#i can barely organize my own shit

[caramelstupid]

Uuuuugh a buddy of mine wants to read the lord of the rings in english (i think he got the german Version. He also has never managed to sit through a Single movie. Fuck off) (I got him a spotify link and the substack link!!!! Options!!! Free even!!!) But he kinda invited himself over to go get MY personal Edition and i didnt know how to say no and. Now he has my edition of lotr and i want it BACK do i just buy him one as a late christmas present. Like no sir thats my book qwq u will take forever to read it cause like u dont read. Give it back thats my 50 years special Hardcover U WONT EVEN APPRECIATE IT AAAAAAH. I never lend out books because people have a terrible track record and now someone has my favourite book and i HATE it but also. How do i get it back. And when. In a year????? How do i get it back without sounding like a complete asshole or toddler. Sir please learn to read social cues i was visibly UNHAPPY dont do that qwq

[themanwhowouldbefruit]

my doctor was sooooo fucking worthless and unhelpful im going to masturbate and i hope it fucking kills me

[goldfishshithead]

thinking about an au where the Hero Association does not exist...

[rebelfell]

steve harrington x fem!reader

So periods are bullshit. That’s it, that’s the gist of why this exists. It’s also bullshit I haven’t been issued a Steve Harrington for this exact purpose.

cw: painful period, use of a vibrator, “unprotected” piv sex

18+, MDNI┃2.4k

Steve’s eyes blinked open slowly, reluctantly being drawn from sleep at the sound of muffled grunts and groans coming from behind him. The clock on his nightstand showed an abhorrent hour in glowing red numbers as he rolled over in bed and reached out to feel the warmth of your body beside his. The streetlight coming through the slats in your blinds illuminated your edges, showing the shape of you facing away, curled in on yourself and clutching your abdomen.

He pressed himself flush against your back, knees finding a home in the curve of your own, slotting against you perfectly and gently rubbing his hand up and down your arm.

“Bad?” he murmured, the sound of his voice still deep and rumbling with sleep. 

All you could do was grunt.

Shit.

He’d known it was coming since that afternoon at the grocery store when your mild expression had begun to sink into a sullen frown, wincing and pinching your eyes shut every few minutes. The cramps had barely started then, but seemed to have reached their maximum potential.

He reached down and pressed his hand against your lower belly, in the same spot you always laid your heating pad. Warm and broad and strong, the pressure of his touch provided enough relief for you to exhale a stilted breath. Enough for you to push out an answer.

“M’sorry I woke you,” you whispered, voice close to breaking.

“You didn’t, honey,” he assured with words as warm and solid as his body. “I wish you had. How can I help? Do you need anything?”

“Think you can do a quick hysterectomy?” you joked as best you could in your fragile state.

A soft puff of air danced across your cheek as Steve chuckled and gave your neck a kiss.

“Damn, I left my scalpel in my other PJs.”

“Rats,” you chuckled back weakly.

He nestled in closer, pressing his hand down a little firmer as he moved it in a soothing circle. You rolled onto your back, your nose and lips skimming his temple, his stray hairs tickling.

“Anything else?” he murmured. “Do you, um…do you want help?”

He tries not to sound too eager when he asks. 

It’s not the first time he’s offered assistance of this sort, and he never wants you to think he’s just using your pain as an excuse to fool around. But ever since you told him how orgasms helped with the cramps, he’d been more than willing to offer a helping hand.

Among other appendages.

“Yeah,” you replied after a long pause. “But I…I don’t think I can take anything in me.”

You looked down when you said it, unable to hold his gaze even in the dark. Normally, having Steve inside of you—literally any part of him—was a level of bliss you could hardly describe.

But something about this phase in particular sometimes made it too difficult.

After the lawlessness of ovulation when you were practically trying to mount him every hour on the hour, your body became much more discerning. The cramps made you achy, made it harder for you to enjoy anything besides purely external stimulation. And even that was tricky—your clit becoming stubborn and reluctant, only able to be coaxed out with the utmost delicacy.

You never felt sexy when you got like this. How could you when one of your organs was literally turning against you? Making you absolutely miserable just for not getting knocked up?

Getting off was more a means to an end, seeking pain relief rather than actual pleasure.

“That’s fine,” Steve whispered, nose brushing softly along the apple of your cheek. “I just want you to feel better. Whatever you like, yeah?”

“I like that,” you told him with a soft moan, tipping your head back as he rubbed his hand back and forth across your lower stomach.

“Yeah?” he hummed in your ear. “That helping?”

“Mmhmm…”

“I can get rid of these for at least nine months, you know,” he teased lowly, “Just say the word.”

You tried to groan at him, but it dissolved into a breathy sigh as his hand dipped lower, pressing down on your mound and massaging. You felt his nose nudging at your chin, bumping it to get your attention until you opened your eyes to meet his.

They were still hooded, half-lidded with sleep. It gave him a sultry kind of gaze, one that made your heartbeat quicken and a gasp rattle in your chest. His lips met yours in a languid kiss, slow yet eager, deep yet soft, his fingers now tracing over your quivering belly like he was trying to confuse your nerve endings. The kiss grew deeper, messier, needier, and his fingertips continued their journey upwards, barely skimming your skin until you shivered.

You whined into his mouth, arching your back into him, asking for just a little more, but his touch remained feather light and delicate. The pads of his fingers flicked over your nipples, guessing correctly that your chest would be too tender for anything more intense.

They pebbled under his touch, stiffening behind the sheer nylon mesh of your bralette. 

Steve groaned. His lips broke from yours, kissing down your neck, murmuring sweet whispers to your jugular you couldn’t quite make out. He kissed tentatively but persistently along the curves of your breast until his mouth found the hardened nub of your nipple. He laved his hot tongue over it, letting his warm spit coat it until he pulled away to do the same to the other one.

The shock of the cool air being pushed down from the ceiling fan overhead hitting your wet, stiff peaks has you gasping, the feeling oddly soothing as Steve slid down your underwear.

He dipped a finger into your center, swiping it through your slick folds, still not putting an ounce of pressure on your sex, just letting his digits glide at a leisurely pace. He could already see the effects of his attentions, the pinch between your brows disappearing, the corners of your mouth no longer turned downward. You let your eyes flutter closed, let your head sink fully into the pillow as you breathed steadily…in…and out…in…and out…

They stayed shut even as his gentle stroking ceased and he curled his hand around your own, lifting it to his lips. Your eyes opened just in time to see him kissing the soft pads of your fingers, slowly taking them into his mouth and swirling his tongue to coat them in spit. You then watched, practically hypnotized as he guided your hand down between your legs.

“Hold my place for me, honey. I’ll be right back.”

He slid open the top drawer of your nightstand so smoothly, you barely registered what he was doing until after he had produced your bullet and a bottle of lube from inside. Your own fingers continued his lazy slide through your folds, finding a pace and rhythm you liked while Steve absconded to the bathroom to clean your toy.

It takes him only a minute or so before he’s sliding back up next to you, the heat coming off his body preceding his return as he fondled the toy.

He clicks it on and touches it to the back of your neck, the vibrations rippling along your hairline. The pace of your own fingers holds steady as he draws it further down your body, running it over a few select hotspots he’s done more than enough research to know the exact locations of.

You worry your bottom lip with your teeth as he traces the outer curve of your breast, down to your rib—still light, but hard enough not to tickle. It’s almost like he’s sketching you with a piece of charcoal, following the graceful lines of your waist to your stomach. His breathing gets harder the closer he draws to your core until you withdraw your fingers and he replaces them.

“How’s that?” he husked, his lips at your ear now, his warm breath cascading down your neck. “S’good? Not too much?”

“N-no,” you gasped, all shuddery and nervous all of a sudden. Steve always had that effect, but especially when he was studying you so intently, so zeroed in on your experience. 

“Relax, honey. Just focus on me, yeah? You’re so pretty. My pretty girl making the prettiest sounds. I don’t know what I did to deserve you…”

“Steve—”

“S’true, baby, I think about it all the time. Y’know how many things had to go right? How lucky I had to get for you to end up being mine?”

He’s too good at this, all the lovey dovey shit that makes your head spin as you go back and forth between wanting to believe him wholeheartedly and your innate distrust. Not of him, but just of anything that chipped at your walls, that chinked in your armor—that made you want it like air.

But you let yourself feel it, let yourself get swept up in his sweet words that drown out the quiet buzz of the toy between your legs. He kept it on the lowest setting, knowing that anything higher would be too much, and he let it glide slowly through your folds, spreading out the lube and letting the vibrations tickle your lips before he even thought about bringing it to your clit.

“You’re so perfect,” he moaned, almost whining like he’s the one who needed more as your hips started to subtly thrust. “Do you know how crazy you make me?”

You can’t answer him, too overwhelmed by the pressure steadily mounting in your core, the hot flames of your arousal being stoked and fanned by his words.

“...just want you to feel good…”

His voice drifts in and out, your ears catching bits and pieces as your pulse thunders in them, rapidly approaching the precipice you can see you’re so close to it now.

“Will you come for me, honey?” he begged. “Come for me, I know you can—”

Your hand wraps around his wrist to hold him still, the nub of the toy pressing perfectly to your clit and the pressure tipping you soundly over the edge. A shuddering moan leaves your lips, your chest heaving with it, tears stinging in your eyes and leaking out the sides.

He slams his lips to yours, the most force he’s shown all night, swallowing the sound of your orgasm like it sustains him. Like it’s his favorite dessert. His lips vibrate back with a moan of his own until you relax your iron grip on his wrist. He pulls away just long enough to click off the toy and then swiftly returns to your kiss. It makes you keen into him, back arching off the bed.

”God, Steve…please,” you whimpered, pawing at the waistband of his pajama pants.

“What, honey? You want another? Anything you want, it’s yours—”

He brought the bullet back to your clit, but you batted it away. “No, no—need you.”

Your hand curled around his length, cupping him through plaid flannel to feel just how hard he had gotten pressed up against your hip. A low groan burst out and you thought for a second he might have come just from that. But he still twitched in your hand in response, gasping as he pushed his face close to yours, cradling your jaw as your sweaty foreheads touched.

“Honey, are…are you sure? I thought you said—”

“I can take it, I swear,” you whispered. “I need it, I have to feel you.”

It’s like night and day, the difference in the way your body reacts to him, and there’s no doubt in your mind what you want now. You can almost feel how things inside of you have shifted, how your organs have rearranged to take him in like it’s the only thing they were meant to do.

Steve let the bullet drop to the floor and he rolled on top of you, his bottoms and boxers shoved to the middle of his thighs. The short, thick hair on them rubs your own as your legs spread wide to accommodate his body, legs kicking up to hitch over his hips and ankles locking behind him.

There’s no pain, not so much as a pinch as he slides inside you and buries himself to the hilt. The slippery mess between your legs envelops him completely, walls fluttering and squeezing him so tight it makes Steve’s breath come out in halting gasps—grunting as he presses his face into the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Panting like he’s never felt anything so good.

His musk fills your nose—that smell that’s more than just his gourmand cologne or his woodsy body wash or the light, fresh florals of his styling products. It’s the smell of his skin and his hair and his sweat all coming together at once.

Something that’s pure…Steve.

“God, you…feel so…fucking…good,” he groans into the pillow, his words coming out stilted as he starts to thrust at a slow and even pace. You can feel his muscles quivering under your hands with all the effort it’s taking him to hold himself back.

“Faster, Steve,” you plead, clutching at the planes of his back, “I know you want to, please—”

“Fuck—nothing feels like you, honey. Nothing, nothing, nothing…s’the best thing in the world, I swear to god—”

He’s still holding back, still reluctant to fully thrust and pound in you the way you know—the way you can feel—he wants to. Your hands slide up to his neck, tangling in his tousled locks.

“Fuck me, Steve,” you whine, gripping tight to the hair at the back of his head, pulling it. “I want you to fuck me until you cum, fuck me full of you.”

“Ohhhh, Jesus Christ, baby, you can’t just say that—”

He’s letting go now, his hesitation crumbling as his hips start to snap at a brutal pace. His gasps and moans mix with your high-pitched cries and the lewd slapping of skin, the soft creak of the mattress springs, the bedframe thump, thump, thumping against the wall.

You love the way he takes you like you’re the one thing in the world that matters; love the feeling of making him feel good, of taking care of him the way only you can—the way only you get to. 

It’s the same way he feels about you.

Ty for reading. Love you, mean it 🥝

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

Nasty Girl ⟡˖ Older!Rafe Cameron x Perv!Reader ⟡˖

✰ Rafe is an arrogant dick, over a decade older than you and your dad’s boss, you shouldn’t want anything to do with him. So why can’t you stay away? ✰

۶♡ৎ This is a request from my angel @babygorewhore I love you sm, this one’s for you pookie ۶♡ৎ

✰ Age gap (Rafe is early 40s reader is mid 20s), Obsessive behaviors, perverted acts involving panties, gagging, choking, spit kink, daddy kink, unprotected sex, pussy slapping, pillow humping, pussy eating, cum eating, size kink 18+MNDI ✰

You can’t stand Rafe Cameron. And the fact that you’re so obsessed with him only makes you hate him more. No matter how much you hated the way he walked around like he owned the world, or the rotating door of women he brings around, you can’t shake this irresistible pull he has on you. You shouldn’t feel this way, not only is Rafe a huge dick he’s also over a decade older than you and your dad’s boss. It started off small, stealing glances at him every time you visited your dad at work, dressing in your most revealing dresses and skirts to his work events, making off handed comments and brushing past him when there was clearly room to go around. It wasn’t until you caught him in a bathroom with some lanky blonde bent over the counter while noises that resembled a crow left her body that you finally lost it.

You decided to leave the company charity event early, making sure to pass Rafe’s car and leave your tiny pink thong on his side-view mirror. He wouldn’t know they were yours, but he would know that they didn’t belong to the girl he was currently balls deep inside of because you saw her coral thong pushed to the side. After that it was like you couldn’t stop. You started leaving your panties anywhere you’d think Rafe would find them. In his office on his desk or the chair, his car became a favorite, you even managed to loop one around his drink while he wasn’t looking at the country club once. After the first few pairs you started leaving dirty photos of yourself along with them. Not showing your face, of course. Just shots of your ass and tits, always matching the underwear you planned to leave. You thought about maybe just texting or even emailing them to him but your dad gave him both of those things “in case of emergency”. So you decided to do it old school and take photos on your Polaroid. It was sexier that way, anyway.

But you haven’t done anything like what you’re about to do. You’re upstairs with the sound of loud voices all drowned together barely making it through the thick, high floors beneath you. It didn’t take you long to find Rafe’s room. A double door at the end of the long hall with gold ornate knobs was very clearly the master. You also weren’t surprised he had a keypad lock on his door, especially throwing a party like this. Your dad and his coworkers are everyday businessmen to the sivlian eye but behind closed doors they’re into some pretty deep criminal shit. Luckily you already managed to break into his laptop. It was almost too easy, he navigates technology like a grandpa even though he’s only forty. You had a passing thought about teaching him a more efficient way to organize his work laptop but you quickly shut it down. You’re supposed to hate him. Even if you him to fuck you until you can hardly breathe. He had a whole entire document of passwords and key combinations and you may have written all of them down. So you easily slipped inside after entering the numbers on the keypad.

You spent some time looking around and it was about what you expected. Sleek, expensive furniture, no decorations, the white walls bare aside from a random picture of a boat near the window. It's so clean it almost seems like no one lives here but you assume that’s probably due to the cleaners. You go through his drawers, nothing of interest really, unless you count all the clothes you could potentially steal. His bathroom is just as clean as his room and you can’t help but smirk when you notice a full skin care routine sitting on his counter. So vain. But, you can’t deny a man who is invested in his hygiene is extremely sexy. You smell his expensive colognes, his body wash, even his fucking shampoo. You inhale every single one like it’s your drug of choice. Though, you’re sure they smell a million times better on his skin, mixed with his musk.

After spending some time snooping, your focus turns back to the real reason you came in here. You walk into his large walk-in closet and flick on the light. There’s a glass jewelry case in the middle, filled with designer watches, rings, chains, and sunglasses. You approach it and try to pull open the top drawer when you’re met with resistance, you notice another combination lock. But a lightbulb goes off in your head, remembering the key code marked “jewelry case” before pulling out your phone, finding the numbers and unlocking the drawer with a click. The first drawer is, as expected, more jewelry that matches the items in the display case above. The second drawer though, that’s a different story. When you slide it open instead of expensive designer, it’s filled with lace and silk.

Every single pair of your panties you’ve left for him are in this drawer, along with the Polaroids stacked neatly. Upon closer inspection you notice that they’re covered not just in your cum, but his too. It has your pussy nearly dripping, you were already wet from the minute you saw him earlier tonight but now you can feel your slick dripping down your inner thighs, causing them to stick together under your micro dress. You have to practically drag yourself away from the sight of your underwear under lock and key, almost like they’re treasure, covered in a mixture of Rafe's cum and your own.

You look around the rest of the space and the entire span of the closet is lined with his clothes hanging on wracks. One side is clearly business attire and the other is more casual. Though there isn’t a huge difference, you’ve never seen Rafe in jeans and a t-shirt. You can’t decide if the thought is more sexy or comical. It’s hard to imagine him being well, relaxed. You grab a black button up before exiting the closet, undoing the buttons as you go. A thousand dirty fantasies run through your mind as your eyes roam over the king sized bed. But there’s one you can make a reality right now. The whole reason you came in here. You grab one of his silk pillows and wrap his shirt around it before placing it in the middle of the bed. You turn around to grab your Polaroid out of your bag and then crawl onto the mattress, mounting the pillow. You don’t bother taking your fuzzy platform heels off either, he can sleep on the grime from the bottom of your shoes along with the juices from your pussy for all you care.

You start off slow, running your hands along your body, groping your tits through the faux leather of your dress, imagining that they’re Rafe’s much larger hands. It doesn’t take you long to get worked up, your juices starting to make the cloth underneath you slick. You're so wet that when you start to jerk your hips back and forth on the pillow that you practically glide. The lace of your thong gets pulled tighter, adding extra pressure to your puffy clit. Your dress rides up your hips, revealing your ass and the plush of your thighs as your hips start to speed up. Once you start to really get into it you pull your panties to the side and yank the zipper that goes all the way down the front of your dress down your chest so your tits can spill out. You switch up the movement of your hips every few moments, rotating between using the pillow for leverage and running your hands down your body.

You start to get so lost in the throes of pleasure you almost forget where you are entirely until your white sock covered shin smacks against your pink polaroid camera. You smirk to yourself in remembrance as you pluck it from the bed and turn it on. You hold it above yourself while you press your tits together and spread your legs far enough to show your mound on top of his shirt and snap a photo. You take more than one this time, using almost the entire roll taking pictures of your body from various angles. You shove your fingers in your mouth. Take photos of your tiny thong string nestled between your ass. You even take one with his shirt held up between your teeth. That ends up being the last photo because the smell of his cologne hits your nostrils and it has you inhaling deeply while your hips start to subconsciously grind down again.

Rafe practically felt like a madman as he tried for the fifth time in the last twenty minutes to get out of this conversation with your father and their business partner. Every single time he tried to slip away he was pulled back in somehow. But that didn’t stop his eyes from traveling to the tantalizing view on his phone screen every ten seconds. He felt like a cat who caught a mouse it’s been chasing for months. All without even trying. You lead yourself into a trap he didn’t even set and it couldn’t be more fucking perfect. The fact that you had no idea that his entire house was bugged with cameras that he could see directly in the palm of his hand made his cock twitch. Rafe checked his phone the minute he got the notification that someone was unlocking his bedroom door, ready to send security up there to grab a thief. But he was oh so pleasantly surprised when he saw it was you. You weren’t like any of the other girls he’s ever seen in all his time living on this island. Your platform shoes and dark make-up were utterly enticing to him and your bratty attitude made him want to bend you over his knee until you cried. He also knew you were a naughty girl, with a dirty little secret only he knew. Rafe’s obsession for you only grew by the day and now it was at an all time high.

He decided to let it play out for a bit. He watched as you surveyed his blank walls and rummaged through his drawers. Then you made your way into the bathroom and he watched as you greedily inhaled his colognes and body washes. You went into his closet and somehow unlocked his jewelry case. He’d have to figure out how you managed to learn his key codes later. His heartbeat sped up when you reached for the second drawer but the way you looked down at the trophies you had ever so graciously gifted him with elation only made his appetite for you nearly unbearable. What really sent him over the edge though was how you were currently strandling his pillow as you bucked your hips with his shirt held to your nose.

The entire scene had him losing his mind with lust and you just kept taking it further. He watched you pull your tits out, the way you took all those slutty pictures for him and he wished more than anything in the world he could turn his phone up to full volume so he could hear the pretty little moans leaving your lips. He could tell from the avid speed of your hips and the way your eyes are rolled back that you’re close to your end and he’ll be damned if he isn’t there to see it. He finally excuses himself under the guise of having to go to the bathroom and slips up the large staircase with ease.

You're so close. The pace of your hips is so quick that the entire bed shakes underneath you as delicious euphoria is seconds away. You have the corner of Rafe’s shirt grasped tightly in your fist as you hold it up to your nose. The cloth is pulled taunt against your clit just right, drool drips down your chin onto the black material as you take in Rafe’s scent. Heat washes over you and you moan with reckless abandon, too lost in your tidal wave of an orgasm to care if anyone can hear you.

“I knew you were a dirty girl, but this is even better than anything my mind ever could’a dreamed up…” The sound of Rafe’s voice makes you practically scream and you clutch his shirt over your chest on instinct. Your entire body heats as you take in his large form leaning against the closed bedroom door. His arms are crossed and he has probably the most smug smirk you’ve ever seen in your life painted on his face as he looks over at you through hooded eyes.

“Rafe! I - aren’t you supposed to be hosting a party?” You scoff and roll your eyes, clearly trying to change the subject when you’re the one who broke into his room.

“Well… you see…” Rafe stalks over to you like a predator that caught his prey and stops at the end of the bed. He places his large hands on the mattress so he can lean down only inches from your face, his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip as his eyes travel down your body before connecting with your own. “This little unassuming mouse wandered into my den without even considering that I have eyes on every inch of this house.”

“How - how long have you been watching?” You clutch onto the shirt tighter, hiding your boobs and bare pussy even though he’s already seen both on multiple occasions. Something about him knowing it was you was making you suddenly nervous.

“Oh, sweetheart, I get a notification when someone opens that door… I saw everything. What do we have here?” His eyes are blue fire as they land on the Polaroids and he picks one up with delight before picking up another and another until he’s seen every single one. He sets them aside in a neat stack before abruptly gripping onto the shirt covering you and ripping it down your body with a growl. You gasp in surprise and use your arms to cover your nipples while slamming your legs shut. “Oh, no, none of that. Don’t get all shy on me now, I’ve already seen it all.” Rafe grabs the pillow and pulls it from underneath you causing you to fall backwards on the bed onto your ass. “Would you look at that…” He looks down at the pillow with hungry fascination as a low groan rumbles through his chest. You watch as he runs the pad of his finger through the creamy wetness before bringing it to his mouth and holding eye contact with you as he sucks it between his lips. His eyes immediately roll back when your taste hits his tongue. “Fuckin’ delicious. But I’m always tastin’ you secondhand.. I can’t wait to taste that sweet pussy directly from the source.”

You’re utterly stunned for a moment. You look up at him with your jaw hanging open while you do your best to cover your most intimate parts when all you want to do is throw your legs open and fully submit to him. You always told yourself if he ever caught you that you would make him work for it. But with the way he’s looking at you now? You can already feel yourself slipping and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

“Who - who said I was going to let you taste me? And what do you mean secondhand?” You tried to say it in a biting tone but your voice squeaks and betrays your facade immediately.

“Oh, little mouse… this little back and forth we’ve been playing has been fun and all. But now you’ve wandered right into my bed and I’m done playing games.” Rafe abruptly grabs onto your ankles, pulling you down to the edge of the bed until your feet are dangling off and you try to pull your knees together again but he grips onto them and pulls them back open. “Quit hiding from me.”

His hands grip tightly onto the meat of your thighs, the gold rings on his fingers pinching your skin in a way that has you holding back a moan. The look in Rafe’s eyes is nearly animalistic as he stares down at your puffy, wet pussy. Your little black thong pushed to the side, covered in creamy, white juices. His fingertips travel down your legs gripping hard enough to bruise with every inch. He brings his thumbs to the crevices of your thighs and presses his fingers hard on either side of your folds, pushing your pussy lips together. You can’t hold in the tiny mewl that leaves the back of your throat. He punches your slick cunt together roughly a few times before pulling you apart. Your pussy clicks for him from your wetness as he pulls you open.

“Been waiting for this moment, ya know?” Rafe runs his thumb along your slit, gathering your wetness before bringing his thumbs to rub along the sides of your lips, teasing you. “I knew it was you. I had my suspicions from the beginning. Ever since you walked in on me in the bathroom…”

“How?” Your voice is a broken whisper, any thoughts of fighting back slipping further and further from your mind. Embarrassingly enough, you feel like you could come from just this.

“Well, I was almost positive after that cute little cherry thong…” Rafe grazes over your clit for just a moment before going back to teasing you. “Earlier that day you were wearing these sexy little jeans and when you bent over I got a view of that same thong. Then, to my surprise, the very same pair ended up in my office later that day.” He presses hard on your clit, giving it a few strokes and you think his teasing has finally come to an end but as soon as it’s there, it’s gone. And he goes back to teasing your pussy tantalizingly. “But then, about a week later I saw you sneaking out of my office and I decided to let you get away with it.”

“You decided?” You push yourself up on your elbows and scoff with your eyebrow raised, your irritation with him returning. Rafe just smirks before shoving his thumb knuckle deep in your pussy and curving it against your walls. It makes your eyes roll back while you wriggle underneath him.

“Yes, princess, I decided.” His other thumb presses on your clit hard but doesn’t move. “Once I was positive it was you, I wasn’t ready for it to stop. Especially once you started leaving those little pictures for me. Who knew you were such a dirty slut.” He pulls his fingers from you before landing a harsh smack on your clit causing you to yelp.

“So you knew it was me and didn’t say anything? And then proceeded to keep them in a treasure box and jerk off all over them? Pervert.” Rafe slaps your pussy again, three times in succession.

“Stop being a fuckin’ brat. If I’m a pervert, what does that make you, huh?” He slaps your pussy even harder and then brings both of his hands down on your inner thighs with a loud smack. “Leaving me your panties, takin’ dirty photos for me, I saw you inhaling my cologne like it was a line of coke. And now I caught you in my bed, coming all over my pillow. You’re a nasty. Little. Girl.” He punctuates each word with a slap to your cunt and you can’t help but moan loudly for him.

“Yeah? Well you’re a nasty old man.” Your chest heaves but you still manage to paint a cheshire smirk on your face, your eyes twinkling with mischief as you use the last of your resolve against him.

“You know what? I’m sick of your bratty fuckin’ mouth.” Rafe grips onto the thin strings of your panties and pulls them down your legs before balling them up and shoving them in your mouth. The sudden intrusion makes you gag, but it’s not unwelcome. The act of dominance and the taste of yourself on your tongue has any and all attitude in you evaporating from your body. He grabs your chin and roughly shakes your head side to side. “That’s better. You gonna be a good girl and let me taste that perfect cunt now or do I need to beat the attitude out of you?”

You moan around the lace in your mouth and drop your knees to the sides, offering yourself to him. Rafe looks at you devilishly as he lays on his stomach on the mattress and throws your legs over his shoulders. He runs his nose along your inner thigh as he takes in your sweet scent before hovering over your pussy and inhaling deeply.

“Smell so fuckin’ sweet, bet you taste even sweeter.” The flat Rafe’s runs through your folds up to your clit before circling it a few times. He nips it with his teeth and shoves his tongue as far as it can go inside of you causing you to cry out and arch your back off the mattress.

“Quit wiggling.” Rafe growls into your pussy, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. His large hand splay on your hip, holding you down as he eats you like a man starved. He circles two fingers at your entrance before pressing them knuckle deep inside of you. He caresses your sweet spot while sucking your clit into his mouth and it has an explosion of pleasure washing over your body as your orgasm consumes you.

Rafe pulls off of you when you come down from your high and brings the fingers that were just inside you to his chin dripping with your juices. He smears it around before sucking his fingers clean, groaning like he just ate the best meal of his life. He leans forward and plucks the panties from your mouth before slamming his lips against yours. The kiss is dominating and he shoves his tongue deep into your mouth, swirling it around and coating your taste buds with your own cum. He leans back to admire you and he feels like his cock is going to burst. Your hair is a mess, your dark lipstick is smudged and slick, and the zipper on that tight little dress is barely hanging on. Your tits are on full display as you lay like a perverted little angel with your legs spread beneath him.

“God damn. I’ve gotta fuck that pussy, baby.” Rafe pulls the zipper of your dress the rest of the way down before leaning up on his knees and reaching for the buttons on his shirt. “Take that shit off. Leave the socks and shoes though.”

He licks his lips as he continues to unbutton his shirt while his eyes practically swallow you whole. You quickly rid yourself of your dress and push yourself up onto your knees to watch him undress. You have to stop yourself from jumping him when he gets his shirt all the way off, his perfectly toned body towering over you. When he gets his pants down enough to get his cock out you can’t even hold in your gasp. He’s huge. So thick you aren’t sure you could wrap a single hand around him and so long that you aren’t sure if you could take him all down your throat.

“Fuck. I don’t know if that’s going to fit…” Your eyes are the sizes of saucers as you stare at his cock with your jaw slack. Those words make Rafe feel like he’s going to go insane and his hand flies to your hair, grasping onto it at the nape of your neck and yanking your head back.

“Oh, it’ll fit.” His tongue slides over his teeth and he takes his shaft in his hand so he can rub his precum along your lips, adding to the mess. Rafe uses his grip on your head to manhandle you onto your back before throwing your legs over his shoulders. He smirks down at you while he pumps himself in his hand. “You want it?”

“Yes, fuck. I want it so bad.” You tilt your hips towards him searching for any kind of friction but his hand presses down on your hip, stilling your movements.

“Oh, come on, baby doll. You can do better than that. How bad do you want it?” He taps the head of his cock against your clit a few times before running it through your folds. You try to angle your hips to push him further inside of you and he just tuts at you like you did something naughty before pulling his cock away entirely. “Let me hear it, beg.”

“Please, daddy, I want it so bad.” Rafe breathes out heavily through his nostrils and grips onto your throat, leaning down so his face is inches from yours.

“Oh, little mouse.. you’re just full of surprises, huh? I don’t think you know what you’ve done.” Rafe chuckles darkly and leans back up onto his knees, positioning his cock at your entrance. He presses his head into you and he’s so thick you already feel so full by the time he’s only a few inches in.

“Oh, god. I don’t - I really don’t know if it’s all going to fit.” The air is nearly taken out of your lungs when he thrusts his hips forward and you’re sure he’s all the way inside of you now but he pulls almost all the way out before slamming his cock into you to the hilt with his hips flush against yours. “Holy shit, oh my god.”

“I thought you wanted it so bad, now you’re whining that it won’t fit? I’m gonna fuckin’ make it fit and you’re gonna take it like the dirty little slut you are.” Rafe rams his hips into yours at a brutal pace as he grips onto your throat again and squeezes tightly. His free hand comes to rub circles on your clit and it makes your vision blur. “Yeah fuckin, take it. You gonna come for me? I can feel your pussy squeezing me. You’re so fuckin’ tight.”

“Yes, fuck daddy, please make me cum.” Your voice is a broken sob as your makeup smears messily down your face. “I’m so fucking full.”

“Yeah, that’s right, sweet thing. Give me your cum.” That’s all it takes to have an all consuming orgasm washing over you. Your walls convulse around Rafe’s thick length and he picks up his thrusts, chasing his own high. He uses his grip on your throat to press you down into the mattress and your legs fall down onto his hips. You lace them around him and this new angle has him hitting so deep you swear you’re going to feel him for days. The hand not on your throat hooks onto your bottom teeth, pulling your jaw open so he can spit on your tongue. You swallow without asking and then suck his fingers into your mouth greedily.

“You’re so fuckin’ nasty, ya know that? Letting your dad’s boss fuck you till you cry while he’s right down stairs. Leaving me your little fuckin’ panties. This perfect god damn pussy.” Rafe is babbling like a man possessed as he pumps into you hard and deep until his cock starts to twitch inside you. He growls as he fills you with ropes of his cum. When he pulls out you feel nearly hollow and then he shoves his fingers knuckle deep inside of you, collecting some of his cum on his fingers. You pull his hand back to your mouth and lick his fingers, moaning at your combined tastes.

“Oh, I’m gonna have so much fun with you, little mouse.” Rafe stares down at you with a hunger that’s laced with obsession and you don’t even care because you’re just as obsessed as he is. “You’re mine now.”

Taglist: @nemesyaaa @strawberrydolly333 @sturnioloshacker @loserboysandlithium @gri959 @rafeinterlude @xoxohoneymoongirl @tacymbcm @bunnies-p1tst0p @starkeysprincess

Dividers by @anitalenia

[cranberryjuice-posts]

My dearest

Pairings - Abby Anderson x Reader

Synopsis- Abby expressing her love for her new life with her wife and their soon to be child.

An - Abby defo is a Girl mom

For as long as Abby could remember she wanted a daughter. A beautiful girl that she could all her own. Of course being in the Washington liberation front that wasn’t much of an option. From her only goal to kill Joel to her strong physique to even just being disgusted by the thought of sleeping with a man; Abby just assumed that it would always remain a dream.

Two years had passed since she left her former organization. Finding lev, being tortured by the rattelers, finally rejoining the firefly’s and being at peace Abby felt new. She was free, allowed to finally be herself. With that came her meeting you. Oh perfectly you. Abby couldn’t stop herself from falling in love and no one blamed her.

She could never regret the decision though. Laying in bed with her pretty wife who was propped between her legs. Her strong hands softly holding your stomach while peppering kisses on your bare shoulder.

“Abby” you laughed tilting your head away as the kisses tickled.

“I’m just pampering you what’s the issue” she continued trying to kiss you once again. Any chance she got she would happily take to have her hands on you, on the baby you both were having.

At first the idea of you laying with a man disturbed her but she came to terms with it; after all it came with a pretty good reward. Of course before any of this was a thought you both had asked lev if he was ok with the idea of a kid. He had little to no complaints, even eager at certain points to help with decorating the nursery or to help pick out names.

Holding your stomach you leaned forward in pain. The joyful mood came to a quick pause. “Shit— baby you ok?”

“Yeah” You groaned. She quickly tried to hold you to ease the pain but it didn’t do much. “The baby’s just bein’ a lil rough”

“Well her moms pretty stubborn so I’m not too surprised.”

Looking over your shoulder with a soured face you looked at Abby, who quickly laughed at your expression. “Sorry”

Thinking for a moment your body relaxed and you asked her “What makes you think the baby is a girl”

“Oh I know it is I have killer intuition”

“You do now?”

“Yup”

Sighing you leaned forward kissing her gently. “Well hopefully Our daughter can inherit some of her moms skills then”

Capturing your lips again she smiled, admiring your face like it was the first time she’d ever seen it. “Your so beautiful” she barley whispered.

“You tell me that every day” you grinned.

“I’ve got too, if I stop im worried you won’t believe me anymore”

Nine months and a painful delivery later Abby ultimately was right. You both had a girl.

[canmom]

So a little over a month ago I was reached out to by @peterkats, a gay refugee currently living in a camp with a small group of other gay and trans refugees.

Peter has, to put it mildly, had a fucking time of it. In his home country, Uganda, his partner was murdered for being trans. He stayed for some time in Kakuma refugee camp in Kenya with a group of gay and trans people (pictured above), but violence from police forced them to move, and they're currently in a refugee camp run by the UNHCR. (I've been asked not to explicitly name the country but you can probably figure it out.)

Unfortunately this has not in any way been a reprieve. They've managed to flee right into an impending famine, and if that's not enough, they're still facing violence from police and other refugees, and general indifference from the UNHCR medical staff - who are also facing supply shortages. But it's not completely hopeless. When Peter contacted me, he needed money for food - I sent him some via an intermediary and he was able to get quite a bit (the exchange rate seems to be favourable). With help, things can be quite different.

We've stayed in touch since then, talking about our respective lives, the lgbtq situation in different countries, even videogames and music. He's a really sweet guy, despite it all still trying to find a place he can live free. For real, I would not survive any of this shit.

Recently a couple of people in Peter's group have caught malaria. They are currently sleeping on bare mats without mosquito nets. There seems to be some confusion about the exchange rates but as far as I have been able to gather, about €150 (~20,000ssp) gets a mattress and €10(~1000ssp) a malaria net. The UNHCR have not been able to provide any medication except paracetamol, and it's raining which promotes mosquito activity, so this is kind of an emergency.

I would very much prefer if the new friend I've made doesn't die of starvation or malaria. Unfortunately, I do not have the money to support Peter and his group alone. I've sent him money for one mattress (via PayPal for expediency, it won't show up on GFM), and I would be immensely grateful if you would be able to contribute a bit to getting them another (which would be just about enough to keep six people safe from mosquitoes if sleeping three to a mattress).

Beyond that, these guys are prohibited from working so they would definitely benefit from food money. And if anyone has an idea for a long term plan to get them somewhere safer where they're less likely to get bashed, I am sure Peter would appreciate hearing about it. We talked a bit about the UK asylum process but getting everyone here would be very difficult (passports, flights etc.).

But still like, I can only do so much on my own, and I want to give these guys a fighting chance. So if you could pass this around and donate if you can spare a bit? I'd be insanely grateful.

[bkd-b3ans]

You try to repair a watch, Boothill is being annoying as usual, you end up discovering his neurolink perfectly mimics human emotions.

-> Ship: Boothill X Mechanic!Reader (or just tech savvy idk the term really)

-> Rating: Safe for All

-> TL;DR: Boothill visits you after closing hours, nearly ruins a 5 million watch repair commission, stares for a bit too long while you work and overheats for a bit, ends up learning you live above your own workshop and you learn he gets flustered easy.

-> Extra notes: No idea where I will go with these, I just love writing stuff. Next one is going to be more about touching / feeling, but until then, you too can experience casual chatter. I do not proof read, whatever is written is in accordance to Ellios script, go meow at him. Take this "2nd" part as pure world-building.

-> Word count: 2k~ ish

-> First part: here

Thank you for reading and bearing with my awful English. If you have any prompts I would be more than happy to hear them.

"Pardner? Yoohooo~" Boothill was waving his arm like a manic from the front of the counter, trying to catch your attention, but you were too engrossed in your work, tinkering away with some expensive watch you were paid to fix, the tiny gears and springs neatly organized in your table in tiny boxes with labels, while you were hunched over the table, looking through a magnifying glass and listening to music, tongue almost sticking out like some cartoon character while you were trying to place the gear in its place carefully using some precise tweezers.

For all you cared, your shop was closed for the day, so why would anyone in their right mind, or that knows how to read a sign, would even bother you? Of course you didn't take into account a Galaxy Ranger that had a passion for annoying you at random times.

"Psst, hey, over 'ere..." he sighed, "Fudge this". Impatient as ever, Boothill just helped himself with one of the expensive motor oil cans in the counter and stepped around it, taking off his hat and placing it on your head.

The whole motion made you jump out of your skin, dropping the tweezers together with the very important, one of a kind gear, that you could barely notice while it was on your table, let alone on your floor, rolling off into the void like all of the pens you've lost throughout the years.

"WHAT THE FUCK, MY FUCKING WORK OF MY AEONS-" you took off the hat annoyed, hand still shaking from the scare and heart running laps in your chest. Shoving the hat into Boothills chest, you couldn't help but be angry at the man, sighing.

"Damn sugar-cube, didn't know ye were this jumpy. Ye should be more aware of yer surroundings you know?"

"What the hell does that mean. MY SHOP IS CLOSED BOOTHILL, CAN'T YOU READ??"

"Well, not your language no, it's all a bunch of jumbles and lines"

You looked confused for a moment before realizing that neither of you were from the same planet. You rubbed the bridge of your nose, trying to get rid of your furrow.

"Just, shut up and help me look for that gear. AND PUT THE DAMN CAN DOWN"

He raised his arms in defeat, putting down the can of motor oil and looking around your workbench while you were painfully looking for the gear with your magnifying glasses.

"Lotta' shiny pieces you have on the table. Are these really more important than your good old buddy, Boothill?"

"Unless you're willing to give me 5 million, then yes"

Boothill choked

"5 million?? For some beautiful watch?"

"What can I say, some people have more than they know what to do with. Now stop yapping and get on your knees, I can't see shit."

"Is that an invitation, darling?"

"... BOOTHILL!"

"Aye aye, don't get your feathers ruffled like this darling, just sit there and be pretty"

----------------

You couldn't help but be annoyed still, slumped in your chair, fiddling with your pen, while Boothill was looking around. How long has it been already, maybe a few minutes? Hours? Days??? Your work couldn't wait that much, and each ticking second felt agonizing. You were so close too, getting interrupted was the last thing you needed right now. You always had plans, a schedule, deadlines, you couldn't afford the unpredictability that is Boothill sometimes.

You almost got too lost in your thoughts before you heard a sudden thud, metal against wood, and a proud exclamation.

"Here it is sugar-cube, your pretty little thing... Cogwheel whatever. Now can you stop looking like someone spat in your food or do I need to repair this watch myself to make you happy?"

You could swear sometimes he was like a dog, a big doberman. For as scary as he could look sometimes, you couldn't help but be unable to push him away. All you could do was just let out an amused scoff, taking the gear piece in the palm of your hand, and gently placing it in it's box.

"No, no, you've done enough damage already. Why are you here even?"

"Just wanted to pay my best buddy a visit? What, a man can't do that no more?"

"No fixing your body? No maintenance work? Really nothing? Just a visit? Odd, thought you were a busy man"

"Oh I sure am sugar-cube, but sometimes even I need to sit down and relax."

"... In my workshop"

"In yer workshop, yes."

You sighed

"Fine, fine, stay for as long as you need, but don't touch anything that is in this-" you motion around your workbench "general area"

He tipped his hat in acknowledgment

"Aye aye, I'll stay put, fudge me, you can be very serious sometimes."

"5 million"

"Right yes, that's understandable."

You went back to work, trying to finish placing the last pieces inside that damned watch, headphones back on your ears. Boothill was simply slumped on the couch you kept around the waiting area, that barely saw any use to begin with. He was just looking around, bored out of his mind, the silence really starting to get to him. On occasion he's throw you glances, looking like a kicked puppy only to be met by your back either way. Yet he couldn't help but notice the few tics you had, tapping your foot, humming to yourself from time to time, arranging your hair by shaking your head around, and just how damn beautiful you looked in that dim warm light.

By no means we're you prettied up and groomed, after all, working with machinery all day will just lead to one always being covered by oil or sutt, clothes messy, the tools around your belt loud and heavy, but to him, it was part of the charm. The passion you had for what you did, the care you treated everything with, even his own body when it needed repairs. Sure, you two may butt heads more often than goats, but you were the reason he kept making his trips back to your workshop for any needs. He trusted you, felt comfort in your presence.

He could feel his insides start to heat up, his mind trailing off. Sure, he couldn't blush for the love of him, after all blood stopped flowing through his body long, long ago, but his body still reacted from time to time to strong emotions, and now it was no different. It felt, uncomfortable almost, a strange emptiness in his metal gut. Maybe it was the bullets he snacked in like some chips, or maybe it was more than that. He just simply pulled his hat over his eyes to focus and calm down.

-------------------

Finally, after so many hours, you were finally done, the watch ticking gleefully, almost as if happy with it's new look. You sighed in relief, finally placing down your headphones and slumping in your chair, pulling your glasses up.

"Finally... I swear they are trying to drive me insane with all these new 'trinkets' that have way too many small pieces for their own good. How you holding up, Boots?"

"Fine as ever sugar, bored out of my mind, but rested"

"Yeah, I can see that, you've already made a dent in my couch"

"Hey, I helped ya find that gear for free, can't I get some more respect"

"And who's fault was it that I dropped it?" You said, raising your eyebrow.

"Aye aye, sorry 'bout that."

There was a moment of pause

"Say, partner, you've messed around inside my body for a while now. Do you know if there's any functions that might mimic proper human emotions?"

"Human emotions? Hmmm"

You thought for a moment, trying to remember if you've seen any kind of code that might do that.

"I don't think I've seen anything like that, but I've also never like, actually paid attention. There may be some functions that mimic that, after all, you might need them to think and work properly. Why?"

"Ah, nothing important, was just wondering."

"I can always check if you want. Of course, for a price"

He couldn't help but scoff, amused "You were never free eh?"

"Someone has to eat"

"Sure, sure. I mean why not, might as well get this mystery solved, since I'm here and have nothing better to do."

"Then come with me"

You both went inside your garage, Boothill already used to all the steps, laying down on the weird table chair as he put it while you connected the cables to the back of his neck, opening the hologram screens.

"Let's see..." you rubbed your chin, pacing around while moving around screens, trying to find anything remotely similar to what Boothill mentioned, but it was rather hard. Every line kept changing dictating different functions every moment.

"Hmm...."

"Anything the matter?"

"No, I just realized why I might have never seen that kind of function. Your neurolink is adapting to everything you do, so it's changing constantly. I think the only way to spot anything us to trigger whatever made you so curious about your 'emotions'"

"Trigger em? And how the fork do you plan on doing that?"

You thought for a moment, moving next to Boothill, dragging the screens along with you. You didn't really give a warning as you poked his chest with a screwdriver, noticing some changes.

"What in the beautiful sky are you doing?"

"There it is" you just pointed at the screen at the suddenly changing lines.

"Your body reacts to your mental state. Right now you are confused"

"I sure as warm lake I am, you're poking me around with a screwdriver."

"What else would have you wanted me to do? Touch you with my own hands?"

He was about to say something, but you grabbed one of the screens, squinting at it.

"Getting flustered, Boots?" You could almost feel your own smug smile forming on your face.

"Flustered? Please, you'd think I'd get 'flustered' from just a check-up?"

"Bashful... Interesting"

"Hey! Stop saying things and answer me, sweetheart"

"And annoyed. Yeah, you do seem to have those functions, and they're damn advanced to mimic human emotions. Guess you aren't just metal after all. You still have the ability to feel. It's interesting how this changes..."

You got too focused on the lines of code, not paying attention to how you started leaning against the table, your hand extremely close to Boothills, fingers almost touching. Sure, you were just staring at the lines changing, but Boothill was staring at your hand, annoyed almost that he couldn't just grab it, only to be confused over why he was annoyed. You just chuckled to yourself and pushed the screen away, unplugging the cables.

"Well, mystery solved, your neurolink functions exactly like a brain and it sends the proper signals, so your body will be affected by your emotions."

"Great-" he rolled his eyes, standing up and scratching the back of his head "You need a new table, this one is forking uncomfortable."

"I don't take feedback"

"Yeah yeah, whatever you say darling." he just hopped off the table, adjusting his hat.

"H-"

"1k credits"

"Damn, let me finish at least. Fine, you know the drill"

"Nah, I'll let it slide this time. Getting to check your internals can be fun sometimes" you patted his back

"I'll go home, unless you want to guard my shop, you should leave too."

"You don't just live in your workshop??"

"...what...?"

"You know, like, I've always only seen you here, where is your home even."

"Oh... Oh! I guess you can say that? My home is upstairs, I bought the whole building when I opened so everything on the ground floor is the shop, upstairs is my place."

"Ok that makes sense... Can I-"

"No"

"Fine fine, I'll go my merry way then. I'll see you next time partner, and thank you for the free check-up"

"Don't get too used to them"

He nodded, tipping his hat and leaving.

[rowanisawriter]

legacy

patrochilles / F1 iliad AU / ~12k words

inspired by @wolfythewitch’s gorgeous F1 art

After Achilles unexpectedly storms off the track during the last race of the World Championship, Patroclus is tasked by members of his own team and beyond to bring him back to the race as the threat of a Trojan victory looms.

.

“You really think I could get Achilles back on the track with all of you disrespecting him like this?” Patroclus almost laughs but it gets stuck in his throat. “And anyway, I shouldn’t even be here talking to you. I should be cheering on my own team instead of listening to you shit on yours.”

“Patroclus, we are all on the same team under Agamemnon. And we are about to get fucked if we lose Helen’s sponsorship to the Trojans. I’m telling you, you might not even have a contract next year.”

Patroclus’s incredulous laugh is a choked sound that bursts past his lips. He looks at Odysseus, the permanent lines across his brow, the silver hair catching the sunlight pouring in from the open bay doors, and tries to find some of the good humor that’s usually there. It’s not here today. All he can see is worry and a hint of fear. It slides across the space between them, burrowing itself into Patroclus’s chest, as cool as the wine from earlier.

“There are two races left,” Odysseus says, his voice barely above a whisper, snatched out of his mouth and weaving in and out and around the crowd that presses in waves of Ferrari red and Mercedes black and Red Bull blue. “Achilles needs to be there for at least one, otherwise we’re cooked.”

[remlionheart]

Can you do a Chuuya x fem reader where her bra can be shown from her white shirt?

pov: you request a simple spicy lil fic from me, but my manic brain is physically incapable of not giving it an entire backstory and plot and making it at least 4k+ words (thank you so much for this idea tho, it was super fun to write! ღ)

* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦˚ *

Sex, Money, Feelings, Die

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ My first attempt at Chuuya smut (and goddamn, do I love that angry lil man ★~(◡‿◡✿). New to the city, you're coerced into working for the PM after a drunken night out. Scared and now in the heart of one of Japan's most notorious criminal organization's headquarters, you decide to reclaim some of your power by ~*teasing the absolute fuck out of Chuuya Nakahara~*. 4.8k words. Porn with a plot. I can't even lie, this shit had me giggling and kicking my feet while writing, lemme know whatcha think. luv u ღ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

When you'd first moved to Yokohama 2 months ago, you had promised your parents that you'd be safe. That you'd find yourself a decent office job to afford you a lofty apartment and that you'd be settled in relatively quickly. You'd pictured yourself walking amongst tall buildings on your days off. Exploring the city with your coworkers on the weekends. Living instead of just existing in your small hometown.

You thought you had your future all mapped out and maybe you did, but those dreams of normalcy were all but destroyed the night you crossed paths with Koyo Ozaki.

She had noticed you from across the bar, quietly observing the way you'd been drinking by yourself all night. It was odd to see a girl with your beauty and lack of abilities so confidently roaming downtown alone. She wasn't sure if you were brave or naive, but the moment you took a seat next to her to thank her for the whiskey and coke she had ordered you, she realized you were the perfect blend of both.

She'd spent the next hour chatting you up, effortlessly coaxing information out of you without you realizing it. She'd offered you an administrative assistant role for the group she worked for, describing it as a "lucrative" and "underground" organization. You were in no position to say no, especially after spending the last month relentlessly applying to jobs with little to no luck.

You woke up the next day musing about silly things like fate and serendipity as you raided your closet for the perfect first day outfit. You felt like this was your big break. The first stop on the roadmap of adulthood that you'd created for yourself. You ironed a pair all black slacks, pairing it with a white-button up quarter-sleeve shirt, and your favorite suede Mary-Janes. Optimism swirled through your head as you eyed yourself in your bedroom mirror that night. You were determined to be so good at this job.

You showed up freshly showered and prepared when you arrived at the sleek, high-rise building. Ozaki waited for you out front with a rather intimidating dark-haired man who introduced himself as Mori, head of the fucking Port Mafia.

Your anxiety rose with each step you took behind them, quickly realizing that this was not the run-of-the-mill clerical job you had envisioned while hazily chatting with Ozaki over whiskey-neats. This was an underground criminal organization full of some of the strongest ability users in the world. You had absolutely no idea why you were here. Why you'd been selected, let alone trusted, to work alongside these people.

You were given your own small office, equipped with a bare desk and landline phone. Mori told you to stay put, explaining that you were to stay out of sight until further notice. You were essentially there as a cover-up.

Apparently, they'd been scouting for girls like you. New to town and completely clueless. They wanted to bring in a handful of these 'administrative assistants' to help keep up the illusion that this was just another ordinary building in the business district of Yokohama and nothing more.

Mori left you with a curt warning about the temperament of the other Mafia members and a haunting, "Welcome to the team." as he closed the door to your office and disappeared down the long corridor. Your heart was slamming into your chest, your anxiety growing the longer you sat. You were angry. Disappointed in yourself for being such an easy target.

You sat for at least an hour staring at the wall in existential dread, wondering what you'd done to end up here. Wondering what you were going to have to do to get out now that you were here. Even if it wasn't necessarily a "job", it still didn't seem like something you could just casually walk away from.

You were in the middle of the Port Mafia's headquarters and you were rightfully, terrified.

The sound of two muffled voices pulled you away from your thoughts while you froze in your chair, realizing that they were right outside your door.

"You're fuckin' with me, right?"

"No, that's really where they're keeping her. She's going to be a fulltime member."

"A member?" it was the first man again, his voice full of shameless snark and volume as he laughed at the idea. "A Mafia member with no ability? C'mon, Akutagawa. Even Mori isn't that stupid."

"There's going to be more, she's just the first to show up."

Tension crept along your spine when both voices came to a curious stop, one quietly scolding the other before the heavy wooden door began to creak open.

A pair of azure eyes stared back at you, disheveled shoulder-length red hair draping off of one shoulder as he mumbled, "Holy shit."

The taller of the two, draped in a long black coat, tried to pry him away, but he shrugged him off with an irritated. "Chill out, I just wanna introduce myself to her."

The dark-haired man scoffed and continued down the hallway while his ginger companion closed the door behind him, leaving just the two of you looking back at each other skeptically.

Despite his height, he had a powerful demeanor. A blend of apathy and cockiness that exuded off of him as he carefully made his way towards you. "So, you're the new girl, huh?"

Your eyebrows furrowed when you looked back at him, your words suddenly stuck in your throat as his foot made contact with your desk.

You managed a nod, remembering the way Mori had advised you not to engage with the other Mafia members, but what were you supposed to do when you were suddenly locked in a room with one?

"God, we really can't just have one normal day around here, can we?" He sighed, almost seeming embarrassed as his shoulders dropped and he leaned against your desk in the spot next to you. "Stealin' girls out of bars? Tch, the hell are they thinkin'?"

His opposition to his boss' plan made you relax a bit. It was the first time all day that you thought you might make it out of here okay.

He picked up on your apprehension rather quickly, taking his hat off and setting it down before extending a gloved hand out to you. "Chuuya." He said simply.

You stared at him for another moment or two before introducing yourself, trying but failing to mimic his nonchalant tone.

"Hey," He said, lightly nudging your foot with his, "You're gonna be alright. I'm sure this gig will only last for a couple of weeks until they move on to their next big, idiotic idea."

"You think so?" It was the first time all day that you felt like you could breathe.

"Trust me, Mori's plans are always changing. He'll probably cut you a fat check for hush money and then send you on your way sooner than later. Just lay low in the meantime, yeah?"

Your eyes were still locked as you nodded at him again, giving him a feeble, "Okay... Yeah, I can do that."

"Good." He smirked, pulling himself away from your desk.

You watched him pause just before exiting the room. He turned around to face you again, his gaze landing a bit lower than your eyes this time.

"And maybe uh -" If you didn't know any better, you'd swear that you saw a flash of red flare across his cheeks. "Maybe don't wear that bra with a white shirt next time."

Out of all of the anxiety and fear that you'd been drowning in over the last few hours, your choice of outfit had been the very last thing you'd considered worrying about until just now.

You looked down, noticing what he meant as you saw the dark, lacy fabric of your Victoria's not-so-secret peeking through the white of your blouse. Your tits were pushed perfectly together, nearly on full display through the sheerness of your shirt.

He flashed you another faint smirk before clicking the door shut, once again leaving you to your own crippling thoughts as your head dropped into your hands.

What an absolutely mortifying first day.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The next few shifts were a blur.

You'd clock in. Sit for what felt like an eternity in your bleak little office. Leave mid-day to grab lunch at a cafe across the street. And then head home 9 hours later despite the fact that you’d hardly done anything.

You'd learned to bring in books and cross-stich patterns to keep yourself busy throughout the day instead of rotting away at your desk. It wasn't an ideal situation, but if Chuuya was right and there really was a big check waiting for you around the corner, you'd decided that it was worth it to see this through. Because no matter how nervous you got each morning, the painful truth was that you couldn’t afford to turn down easy money.

By the end of the week, you found yourself doing more than just sneaking in romance mangas to make the job more bearable though. You were doing everything you could to gain back even a semblance of power.

If you had to be here, you had decided that you were going to make it everyone's problem.

With the ginger's words still fresh in your mind, you made it a point to wear darker bras. Tighter blouses. Shorter skirts that barely covered your ass. It had almost become an inside joke with yourself at what a distraction you'd become to the Port Mafia. Maybe couldn’t make these men fear you, but you could certainly make them trip all over themselves any time you entered the building.

You'd hardly been able to keep a straight face yesterday afternoon when Akutagawa's coffee fell from his hands and cascaded around him after he saw you walking down the hall in black knee-high stockings. You'd finally managed to make everyone here as uncomfortable as they'd made you and it felt good.

You were half-way through the iced matcha you'd picked up on lunch, sitting with your feet propped up on your desk as you continued to embroider the word "fuck" in pretty, cursive letters next to a pink and yellow flower when a knock arrived at your door.

You quickly stashed the circular cross-stitch pad in one of the desk drawers and straightened your back as Tachihara poked his head into your office. "Yo, new girl. Nakahara wants to see you."

Your brows knitted together as you looked back at him in quiet confusion.

No one had ever requested to see you in the time that you'd been here. Even in your attempts to disrupt their daily tasks, they'd still not bothered to learn your name. But now... you were expected to go see Chuuya... in his office?

"Why?" It was the only question you could think to ask.

"Dunno," Tachihara shrugged. "but I wouldn't keep him waiting. He's kind of an asshole." And with that, you were once again left alone and anxious.

You took a breath, standing up to smooth down the fabric of your skirt before venturing down the hallway.

You did your best to push Tachihara's warning out of your head, reminding yourself of the kindness Chuuya had shown you on your first day while your heels clicked across the marbled floor.

Maybe he wanted to tell you that he'd talked to Mori and that your time with Port Mafia was finally up. Maybe he wanted to hand deliver the check you'd so desperately been waiting for. Maybe he just wanted to see how you were doing. Whatever it was, you were holding onto hope that there wouldn't be any more bad news.

You let out a sharp exhale as you rounded the corner and found yourself standing in front of his office. You gave the door a light tap, fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve when he finally appeared.

His eyes traced over you slowly, his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth as he counted not one, not two, but three undone buttons along your blouse that revealed the deep-purple push-up bra decorating your chest.

"Get in here."

His tone was clipped, dripping with what felt like vexation as he closed the door behind you.

His office was much bigger than yours, adorned with high-rise windows that overlooked the city and pristine black marble flooring that matched his leather furniture. The room was dark, just barely lit by a lamp on his desk. You wondered how it was possible for him to get any paperwork done in here but then promptly realized that with his ranking, paperwork was probably far beneath his paygrade.

Still not entirely sure how to approach the situation, you hesitantly took a seat on the over-sized armchair across from his desk.

"Quick question," he said, standing in front of you with his arms folded over his chest, his voice still riddled with irritation. "What does the phrase 'lay low' mean to you? Because I can tell you right now, this ain't fuckin' it."

Your pupils widened, his words hanging heavily in the space between you.

Your mouth opened and then closed again, too focused on the way he was staring at you to form a proper response.

"Is it -" you wavered, mustering up all the courage you had to try and play this off as innocent confusion rather than what it actually was: sarcasm. "Is it my outfit?"

If looks could kill, you would've been 6 feet under.

Chuuya's eyes darkened, a flustered hand rubbing feverishly over his face as he struggled to keep his composure. He wasn't sure if you were trying to piss him off or if you were just genuinely the dumbest girl he'd ever come in contact with.

"Yes," He said with all the restraint he could possibly manage, his teeth nearly grinding together with each syllable. “The outfits are getting out of hand. You've gotta stop."

You were playing a dangerous game, but you were slowly starting to realize that you were... winning.

"What's wrong with them?" you asked, pretending to cover your chest in embarrassment.

You wanted to hear him explain it. Hear him tell you in his own words that you couldn't wear short skirts anymore because it was causing too many unexpected erections around headquarters.

"I -" The poor redhead looked as though he was going to have an aneurysm if you kept this up much longer.

He snapped his eyes shut and let out a frustrated exhale, his hand now bawled into a fist at his side. "Listen, a lot of the guys around here have... noticed you, okay? And I can't take one more day of hearin' those fuckin' assholes talk about how they caught a glimpse of your ass in the break room. Got it? I'll buy you some new clothes if I have to. Just please, no more shirts like this, alright?"

He was actually bargaining with you. Entering the third stage of grief as he tried so hard to keep his cool. To keep his eyes locked with yours and nowhere else. To explain all of this in the nicest way he could.

It was in that moment that you realized where the real source of his trepidation was coming from.

Hearing his coworkers ogle over you was probably annoying for sure, but the more damning, infuriating fact of the matter was that he was ogling over you too. And he was fucking tired of not being able to get any work done when he knew that you were right down the hall. He was pissed that he had to come into his office every morning and lock the door just so he could jerk himself off to the idea of you.

He was in so many words begging you to stop because he wasn't sure how much longer he could take seeing so much of your body without being able bend you over his desk like he did in his mid-morning daydreams.

He was losing - both his resolve and this game at an alarming rate.

"Hmm," you hummed, toying with a pen you'd found wedged between the cushion of his chair. "Well, I'm sorry. I just like feeling pretty before I come in. I didn't know it was creating such a problem for everyone."

The wheels in Chuuya's head were spinning.

Emotions weren't his strong suit and doing these mental gymnastics with you was making him need a cigarette.

"It's -" he sighed, groaning as he forced himself to backpedal. "It's not your fault. I mean, you do look pretty, y'know. It's just... distracting, is all."

It was hard to hide your smirk.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't think he was a bit distracting himself, but he didn't need to know that. Not yet anyway.

"Okay, well," you conceded as you began to stand up. "I’ll wear a turtleneck or something tomorrow then.” You shot him a small smile as you got to your feet, "Promise."

He looked marginally relieved by your understanding. "Sounds good." He huffed, rubbing at the back of his neck while following behind you as you made your way out of his office.

But just before you reached the door, you accidentally dropped the pen you'd been fidgeting with. Bending over without warning so that your ass was right in front of him, peaking out of your skirt as he walked straight into you, his hips suddenly meeting yours.

You thought he might actually kill you this time with the guttural noise of frustration that escaped him.

He grabbed you by your shoulders the second you were upright again, spinning you around so that you were forced to face him.

“Okay, seriously." He said between gritted teeth. "Just what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Your heart pounded in your chest, your breath hitching in your throat as you watched the unfettered anger flicker through his blue eyes.

It was a stupid move, you knew that before you did it, but you didn't expect it to draw this much of reaction out of him. His restraint was lost. Composure long gone while he waited for you to say something with his face mere inches away from yours.

"Sorry," You lied, "It slipped out of my hand so I -"

"Bullshit." He snarled. "Enough with this innocent act. What do you want out of this, huh? For every guy in Port Mafia to want to fuck you? Is that what you're gettin' at here?"

"No." Your head shook before you even had time to think about what you were about to say. "Not everyone..." Your eyes were still glued to his. "Just you."

You didn't know what you were doing anymore or where all of this recent shamelessness had come from, but there was something about being here that made you feel like you could do anything. Be anyone. You weren't sure if it was the power or the crime or the ungodly amount of money that Port Mafia was raking in, but the collective feeling of chaos that these walls housed was finally latching onto you too.

You didn't even flinch when you said it, instead continued to stare at him unapologetically, noting the way his grip had tightened around your shoulder the longer he looked back at you.

"What?"

If the wheels in his head had been spinning before, they were now fully off the ground, exploding into the air as his gaze drifted along your face. Searching intently to make sure you were actually being serious this time before he went any further.

"You really want me to fuck you that bad?" he asked, the warmth of his mouth now ghosting yours.

The question went straight to your center, wetness seeping between your legs as you nodded back at him.

Truth be told, your midmorning fantasies while cross-stitching the last few days hadn't been much different than his.

The gravity manipulator's fingers were suddenly tangled into your hair, his body forcing your back against the door while his lips collided with yours.

"Y'know you could've just asked instead of doin' all this bratty shit, right?"

His mouth was warm, his movements somehow urgent and careful at the same time as his hands wandered along your curves.

You smiled against his lips, letting out a breathy, "I'm sorry." as his palm began to graze the inside of your thigh.

"No, you're not." He smirked, sucking your bottom lip in between his teeth before biting down with just the right amount of pressure. "But you will be."

You let out a small whimper as he placed his free hand under your chin, moving your head to the side so that he could continue his descendent down your neck.

His leg wedged itself between yours, brushing against your clit while his mouth worked along your collarbone.

You were too lost in the feeling of it all to realize that he'd been leaving a trail of meticulously placed bites down the nape of your neck. Bruises in the shape of his mouth that he knew everyone would see.

"Chuuya -" you tried to protest, but it was more of a moan than an objection. "You - fuck, you can't -" You grinded helplessly against the firmness of his leg. Hips rocking back and forth, desperately trying to gain friction while he kept on nipping away at you.

"What's wrong, babe?" he purred against your sensitive skin. "You're wearin' a turtleneck tomorrow anyway, remember?" his breath fanned across your chest as he ripped the remaining buttons off of your shirt. A gloved hand palming at your chest, sliding your bra down so that your tits were fully exposed for him before you felt his tongue glide across your nipple.

Tachihara was right, he was kind of an asshole. But for some terrible reason, you were living for it. Almost embarrassed by how bad you wanted him. Wriggling against him and riding his leg. Whining while you let him leave visible marks on you and destroy the only clothing you had.

"C'mere." He pulled his head away from your chest, swiftly grabbing you by the arm and leading you back to his desk. He picked you up with ease, shoving a binder aside to sit you down in front of him.

"Spread your legs for me." His voice was heady, eyes glossed over with lust as you complied with his demands.

He held his hand up to his mouth, removing his black glove with his teeth before pushing your skirt up and sliding your underwear to the side. He bent over slightly, running two rough fingers along your clit as he watched your nails dig into the edge of his desk.

"Fuck," he groaned, still not taking his eyes off of you. He'd barely done anything and you were already soaked, your pussy practically throbbing for him. “You really do want me that bad, huh?"

“T - told you.” You whimpered, your head tilting back as he drew slow, blissful circles around you.

He kept up the same pace, basking in the way you were so easily falling apart for him.

“Chuuya, please.”

A smirk tugged viciously at the corner of his mouth, slipping a finger into you this time as your walls swallowed him. "Please what, baby?"

You may have had him in the first half, but you were now on the losing end of this game. Forgetting how to speak altogether as you watched him part your legs even further, bending all the way down to rest his head between your thighs.

You moaned at the feeling of his tongue pressing against you. The heavenly lines he was drawing uppp and downnn your center with his middle finger still sliding in and out of you. He was generous in the way he handled you, making sure he didn't miss a single spot. Lapping and slurping up every bit of cum he could as he added in another finger. Groaning against you the louder you got for him.

The only word you seemed to be able to remember was his name, repeating it over and over while your nails lodged deeper into his mahogany desk and your body shamelessly grinded against the warmth of his mouth.

You were in a delirious daze, losing yourself completely to the way he was devouring you.

He could feel you getting close too, noting the frantic rhythm of your hips. The gorgeous, fucked-out noises you were making for him. The death grip your walls suddenly had on him. He knew you were right there, right where he wanted you.

"Chuuya, 'm - I -"

Your legs were locking around his head, shaking uncontrollably as your hand ran through his hair.

He'd never admit it, but he almost could've came at the sounds you were making alone. The pouty way that you called out his name each time his fingers plunged into you was almost enough to drive him over the edge. You were so pathetic and adorable and he was determined to make everyone in Port Mafia hear just how needy you were for him.

As much as he wanted to edge you for what you'd done to him, as much as he wanted to make you beg and plead for him to let you cum, he couldn't fucking pull himself away from you. He was just as lost as you were, drowning in your cunt and not at all wanting to be saved.

His tongue didn’t leave you until he was absolutely sure that you'd ridden out every last wave of your orgasm, still pumping his digits in and out of you until you couldn’t take it anymore.

He came up for air with an exhausted smile, wordlessly coaxing your lips apart with his thumb before bringing the two fingers he had fucked you with into your mouth. Letting you clean off the blend of slick and salvia the two of you had created together.

"See how fucking good you taste?" he panted. "I think this is gonna be a real problem for both of us."

An enamored shade of pink brushed across your cheeks as he dropped down onto the chair across from you, running a tired hand through his hair.

"At least I won't be here much longer, right?" You said, playfully kicking his leg with your foot.

"Oh yeah," he smirked. "That actually reminds me..." Your eyes widened as he shifted around to dig an envelope out of his pocket. "Mori wanted me to give this to you."

Your hands trembled, opening it as delicately as you could to make sure you didn't rip anything when a check for 1,490,200 yen fell into your lap.

"Think that'll be enough to buy yourself a shirt that fits?"

Your eyes snapped towards him in disbelief, your pulse ringing through your ears as you tried to process that you'd somehow made this amount of money in a little over a week.

"Is this -" You stammered, thinking back to what he had told you when you first met. "Is this like a severance check then? ...Hush money or whatever?"

"Tragically, no. Mori wants you to stay."

Your hand instinctively flew up to your neck, covering the love-bites that the redhead had left you with, horrified at the realization that everyone was going to see them. Even more horrified at the fact that they had probably heard how you’d gotten them.

"What?"

"Yeah, he said somethin' about you how you've been 'boosting the morale' around here."

Your head felt like it was going to explode.

You had not only been marked by Chuuya Nakahara, but you were now being asked to stay in Port Mafia.

You couldn't decide which was worse.

"So... that means..."

"Yep. We'll be seein' a lot more of each other." He confirmed while checking his watch. "But hey, you better get outta here, Rando and I have a meeting in 10 minutes."

You looked down at your lack of clothing, the spit and cum that was still stuck to your skirt, the obscenely noticeable bruises that he'd so proudly gifted you with.

"Give me your shirt." you demanded.

"Nah."

The grin he shot you was so cocky, so vile, so... hot.

"Chuuya." You whisper-shouted, biting back your own stupid smile. "Be so fucking for real right now, I can’t go out there like this.”

“Shoulda thought about that before you put on that skimpy-ass outfit I guess.” He shrugged.

You hopped off his desk, straddling him in his chair as you forcefully began to undo the buttons along his collar.

The room filled with suppressed laughter, neither one of you able to contain it anymore as he finally conceded, wrestling you off of him. "Alright, alright, chill. I have extras in here, hang on."

You both stood up, your eyes locked on him while he walked over to an expensive looking armoire in the corner of the room.

He pulled a white shirt that resembled the one you were wearing earlier off of a hanger and brought it over to you, guiding your arms up so that he could put it on.

His movements were calculated, almost thoughtful as he dressed you, adjusting it so that it covered up most of the damage he'd done.

"There." He said, double-checking his work. "Now get out of here before I decide to rip that one off of you too.”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Part 2! ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

[rogueddie]

Eddie slams his pile of books down on the counter, grinning at how hard Steve startles.

"Jesus, fuck," Steve holds a hand to his chest, glaring. "Man, come on, I'm too young to die of a heart attack."

"Are you sure about that?" Eddie reaches over, to tug at his hair- Steve bats his hand away before he can get near. "What are you now, seventy?"

"I'll have you know that the silver only adds to my charm."

"Sure, keep telling yourself that." He pats the pile of books. "I need to check all of these out."

"You know the limit."

"Please? Pretty please? I'll never insult you for going grey early ever again! Promise!"

"You've made that promise before," Steve grumbles, but starts to check the books out anyway. "What's all of this for anyway? New campaign or something?"

"Nah. Robin mentioned something about the cold war and nuclear shit. Got me curious."

Steve pointedly looks at the books, snorting. "Curious."

"What, you've never wanted to learn some new thing or something?"

"Not this much."

"What about all those sports you played?"

"That was more to do with my parents than me actually wanting to do it."

Eddies eyes narrow because... yeah. Outside of his old King Steve days, Eddie doesn't think Steve has ever wanted something. Not even for his birthday, or Christmas.

All he asks is for them to come to his and Robins flat. All he seems to want is confirmation that they're ok and alive.

"You always say you want kids though, right?"

"I mean, kind of. Though, I'm starting to think the brats we babysat might be more than enough for me."

"Chocolate?"

"Oh no..."

"What?"

"You're planning something, aren't you?"

"No! No, no, no... but there has to be something, right?"

"Something?"

"That you really want."

"There's nothing I need."

"That's not what I'm asking."

"That's all the answer you're getting." Steve shoves the pile of books towards him. "Get lost, I'm supposed to be working."

"Ugh, fine, you're no fun."

But he can't stop thinking about it. He ends up returning the pile of books, despite the fact that he barely read one page. When he tries to use it to question Steve, he dodges the question again.

He very quickly gives up, deciding to pester Robin until she tells him. That takes three weeks of constant, daily efforts. And, in the end, the answer is obvious.

Steve just wants to spend more time with people he cares about.

It's not easy to gather anyone in the party, given that there's no holiday or significant occasion- he manages it, though. All the kids, now young adults, organize transportation. Nancy and Jonathan, over the phone, help Eddie and Robin plan out where everyone will sleep with their small apartments.

The effort, and pain of organizing it all, is worth it for the look on Steves face when he comes home to find them all waiting for him.

When Dustin almost knocks him over with how harm he hugs him, for a second, Eddie is worried that he's going to start crying. But he holds it together, greets them all with so much enthusiasm...

"I forgot that he used to be like this," Robin comments, late into the night. They're sat a little away from the group, watching them argue over their games. "The kids mean a lot to him."

"He means a lot to them."

"I know. I think he forgets though, so... thank you."

Steve doesn't corner him until they've got the kids asleep- half of them going with Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle to Eddies appartment, the rest of them fighting over the little space in Steve and Robins.

"You could've got me chocolate," Steve says, nudging him.

"This is what you really wanted though, isn't it? That was the whole point, big boy."

"Right. Sorry, it... I wanted to say thank you. I know this must have taken a lot to organize and-"

"Steve. You don't need to thank me. Besides, I could never have done this on my own."

"Still... thank you." Steve is quiet for a moment, looking out to the busy city street. "What do you want?"

"This."

"No, what do you really want?"

"Yeah, this. Everyones together, having so much fun. We're gonna do a one-shot when you go to work tomorrow. And, uh... you're happy. I don't need anything more than that."

"Right," Steve clears his throat. He shuffles a little closer, so their sides are almost flush together, tentatively reaching out to hold Eddies hand. "You don't need anything else. What about what you want?"

"You know what I want."

"I want you to say it."

Steve leans over, bumping their shoulders together when he hesitates. He smiles, reassuring, and gives Eddies hand a squeeze.

"What do you want, Eddie?"

"You. I- I want you."

It's terrifying to admit, a horrifying leap... but the smile Steve gives him, so soft and happy, is more than worth it.

"As you wish."

[pinkanonwrites]

Thinking about the concept of cloth or soft things in general being considered luxury to cybertronians, and just imagining one using their holoform to enter a bedroom for the first time. There a big soft berth that sinks under their weight, an entire pile of warm insulating plush fabric, and even more small soft pads that they put their heads on! Could you imagine their reaction to a carpeted room? They even put soft things on the ground they walk on! It would be like looking at one of ridiculously luxurious mansions that are so loaded up with fancy things that it almost looks like a parody

This conjured up a little idea in me with ROTB Mirage, enjoy!

"Watch your shoulders on the-!"

CRUNCH

"...Door frame." So much for getting your deposit back. Mirage shot you a crooked grin, brushing some of the sheet-rock dust off of his shoulder pauldron.

"Sorry 'bout that, sweetspark. No big deal, you can patch that up no problem!"

When Noah had told you that Mirage was able to change his size you had only partially believed him. After all, according to his own stories, the Mirage that was barely larger than Noah in Peru had also had several significant pieces blasted off of his gargantuan frame. And yet, here he was. Fully repaired, mass-shifted to a mere seven-and-a-half feet tall. And sure, he still had to stoop to avoid taking out your ceiling fan. But here he was, in your meager apartment.

It was an equally unfamiliar locale for Mirage himself, having only caught peeks of your living quarters from the alleyway outside. The shag carpet was plush under his pedes, ridiculously soft to the touch. And sure, he'd owned a few of his own garments back in the Towers, in pre-war time, but it still paled in comparison to your room with its thick curtains, fluffy carpeting, and the dozen or so plush organic creatures littering your bed.

"Do you wanna listen to something? You can sit on the bed, if you want. You're probably too big for my desk chair." You were already rifling through your tapes, gesturing to the bed with your free hand and currently oblivious to Mirage's wide-optic stare. He took a careful seat on the edge and Primus, the entire mattress sunk and molded around his bulky frame. It was heavenly. He took one of your stuffed animals between his servos and squeezed, marveling at the squish.

"Man, I can't believe y'all live like this!" He laughed, draping himself backwards onto your bed with a warning creak. "It's comfy, that's for sure. But I don't think I could sleep on somethin' like this. It might swallow me up mid-recharge. And what's with all these little soft organics?"

"Says the guy who sleeps on the floor of a garage. I'd have aches in muscles I didn't even know existed." You pressed Talking Heads 'Speaking In Tongues' into the player with a familiar click, the beginning lick of Burning Down The House echoing through the tinny speaker as you flopped down next to Mirage. "And you're strangling Hello Kitty. They're cute, and soft, and that's kind of all there is to it? Kids like to play with them, too."

"Huh! Cute. Seems like your style. The whole hab seems like your style, actually. All soft and shit. " He handed you back your slightly-dented Hello Kitty, letting out a lazy ex-vent as his arm wrapped around your shoulders. "Well what should we do now?~ You got me all the way up into your berth, aren't you gonna do somethin' about it?"

You barked out a laugh, turning your head to see Mirage's playfully smarmy grin aimed down at you. "Was that your ploy? Show off your cool alien shape-shifting just so you could get in my bed?"

"That depends. Is it working?~"

"Maybe.~"

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can you write a part 2 for the gambit scenario? Where they're restored by the tva per Wade's request and they'll go back to their respective timelines and gambit wants the reader to come to his? Thank youuu!

Part 1 here

When Wade told you that he would find a way to set things right back at the TVA for you, Remy, Laura, Electra and Blade, you didn’t bother to believe that he could. He was only making and educated wish on something he wasn’t fully aware on how it worked, and only did so to appease people, people who had long since had all semblance of hope drained from them the longer they stayed in the Void with little to no chance of escape.

And even if you were faced with the opportunity to go home, you were then forced to face another issue; would you have the heart to part from Remy? Would you be able to and go back to a home where he didn’t know you and was instead completely enraptured by a southern belle, knowing that at one point you and another version of him had something that words couldn’t barely describe?

You honestly didn’t think you could leave Remy, for you’d mourn the life where he would make you something to eat on whatever he could find, giving you sweet affection as he held you from behind and whispered sweet nothings in his native Cajun against your lips. Remy has become a vital part of your soul that you don’t want to taken away, and you’d assumed Remy felt the exact same with how much more affectionate he had became after Wade made his promise before leaving with Logan; It was almost as if the poor man thought you were going to disappear if he were to ever let go of your hand as you slept.

‘Remy?’ You asked.

‘Yes mon Cher.’ He replied, moving to his side to look at you.

‘What if Wade manages to find us a way out, a way home? Do you think you’d take it?’ Remy made a face of thought, going home was all anyone in your group wanted and he was no exception to this, however whenever he looked into your eyes he found himself already at home. ‘That depends.’ He replied.

‘Depends on what?’ You asked, shifting to your side to look at him better.

Remy grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers with his own. ‘Depends on whether I can take you home with me without consequences.’ You gasped softly. ‘You’d want me to come with you? Remy I don’t think the TVA-‘

‘Screw what the TVA think Cherie.’ Remy interrupted as he leaned in close to press his forehead against your own, making you look into his eyes. ‘I’m not leaving this here void without you nor do I want to return to my timeline without you either. So they have to abide by my terms if they don’t want ol’ Gambit stepping a toe out of line.’ He adds with a charming smirk and you couldn’t help but press a kiss to his lips,

‘I don’t want to go back to my timeline without you either.’ You whispered to him as you shuffled closer to him until you were practically tucked under his chin before falling asleep.

However the day Wade promised would come did came when an orange doorway like portals appeared before you and Remy, along with a TVA agent who told you that the portal would take you both to your respective timelines.

‘On whose orders are you acting upon?’ You asked the agent.

‘A one Wade Wilson.’ The agent replied before disappearing into the portal, leaving you and Remy to realise that Wade wasn’t full of shit and was being legit about his promise.

‘We can go home.’ You said but even after you said the words, the pit in your stomach only grew larger as your fear of having to depart from Remy grew stronger. ‘He wasn’t lying, he said he got us home and he has.’ You looked to Remy who had a conflicted expression across his face. ‘No wonder we didn’t see Blade, Electra nor Laura today because they must’ve already gone home.’ Remy says as he looks at the organ he doorway like portal before looking back at you and smiling. ‘Well mom Cher I think it’s about time we leave also. It is time to go home.’ He adds as he stands up, offering you his hand to take as you started at it then him.

‘Home.’ You echoed as you took his hand, allowing him to pull you out to your feet as you both walk closer to the portal, that was until you stopped completely and blurred. ‘I can’t go home! You are my home Remy and I don’t want to leave you and-‘ Remy stops your rambling by grabbing your chin and gently encouraging you to look at him, only to see him smiling sweetly at you as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. ‘And I promised last night that I wouldn’t leave you either mon Cher. I do not intend to break that promise as my offer for you to come home to my timeline still stands waiting for a response.’ He tells you.

You on the other hand couldn’t help but feel as though this was all some dream and that you were still asleep. ‘Wouldn’t we get in trouble?’ You asked knowing that the you in his timeline was dead. So you could clearly see how this wouldn’t go down too well with the higher ups at the TVA, bringing you home to your timelines was one favour, but letting you live out your life in a different timeline was another thing that they’d probably won’t tolerate as well.

Remy shrugs as he pulls you in close to him, smiling reassuringly. ‘Then we shall meet the consequences head on if we must, but I have made it known that there is no Remy without you mom cher. My heart lies with you as it has since the day we first met and I have no intentions of living out a life without you to complete it.’

You smiled at him as you stole a kiss from his lips, still scared of what was to come but finding yourself more and more convinced to leave with Remy. ‘You wanted my answer? Well here it is.’ You took a deep breath as did he as he watched you with a slight nervousness. ‘I’ll come with you Remy. I don’t want to be unhappy in my own timeline when I know I can be far happier with you wherever we go for you are my home and more.’ You confessed as you watched the smile on Remy’s face grow as he swoops in to steal a sweet kiss from your lips this time, which sent off the butterflies in your stomach as you met his passion with your own, happy to know that you weren’t going at this alone anymore and had someone who was going to make it all worthwhile.

‘Let us live out the rest of our lives starting today mon Cher.’ Remy said softly as he squeezed your hand reassuringly as you both then walked through the orange door like portal, ready to start your life together but real this time.

[simp-ly-writes]

Harvey's Proposal

Pairing: SDV Harvey x Reader

Summary: The details, location, and everything else to do with the lead up to and actual proposal of Harvey to the Reader.

Warnings: swearing, slight angst?- just some miscommunication that leads to a HEA.

A/N: Harvey is legit my comfort writing character whenever I get frustrated with another plot.

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

You had noticed your doctor acting strange recently, he made less eye-contact than usual, became generally less communicative with you and had been leaving the house during odd times for "scheduled appointments." Yet when you contacted Maru for who he was meeting with that afternoon she said that the tables were clear for the day.

The furthest devils of doubt from the back of your mind began digging their way front and forward to your thoughts as panic soon took over every interaction you counted with Harvey in recent memory. You 100% thought he was preparing himself to break up with you as you were mentally preparing yourself for the heartbreak

One day, when Harvey comes back from the clinic without a speck of usual tiredness gracing his features has your heart stopping in the kitchen as you turn off the sink, drying your hands to face him. You watch as he stands there still- coat and scarf still off as your ears begin to ring. You were not ready for the announcement, not now- not ever.

Sadness began to creep onto your features, a few tears in your eye as you shook your head- not even listening to what he had to say. You watch through blurred vision as he races his way across the tiles- boots slipping from the recently moped floors. You feel as he pulls you into his warmth- long arms wrapping around your frame in a gentle yet firm grip.

You shook your head still as he squeezed you that bit tighter, he presses kisses onto the top of your head as you drop your body weight onto him- your knees giving up in your overwhelming sadness. Your hands shake as you try and pull away as you feel Harvey let you go.

The doctor stands there still- afraid of what you had yet to tell him, afraid of what caused you to have such a reaction. "A-are you alright my love?" Harvey asks, a few tears in his own eyes as he watches you suffer through what he has yet to understand- he wants to help you through whatever it is you are facing.

You cringe as you sniffle loudly and hiccup into a sentence, wiping your face against your sweater as you turn away to face the sink once more- not baring to look at him anymore. "Why did you not tell me earlier, Harvey?" you asked with grief.

Harvey stares at your back with split-second shock of trying to organizing the information of the situation- just like a medical report. "If I had known that you hadn't been feeling well recently, and- and not wanting to go on a walk with me this afternoon. I would never pressure you into going- darling. That I promise you, I'm so sorry if it came out that way, I'm so sorry that all this stress on my part is coming into our relationship-"

You turn around quickly as Harvey takes a step closer, you watch as his hand rises gently before your own and falls just as quickly to his side. "We were in a relationship Harvey!- we were meant to work things out! Go through life together without need to glance forwards or back, all I ever would need is to look to my side and see you there. That is life- what I thought to be and what I dreamed of. I CAN HELP with the stresses Harvey, I can help with the shit, with the fucked, with the world-ending beliefs. And is is not just that I can- its that I would- I would have without a second thought if you were to just have told me what was going on inside."

You take a deep breath of air in, trying to calm down your breathing as you grab a glass of water from the tap. You watch out of the corner of your eye as Harvey stands there still, tears like waterfalls down his cheeks- staining his dress-shirt and making it bleed all the way down to his heart.

He takes of his glasses, wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands before dropping to his knees. You drop your glass in a panic, racing to the floor as well as his head falls into your lap- you feel his ragged breaths as you rub his back. He sobs endlessly- gripping onto your pant leg- afraid to let you go.

Subconsciously you hand makes its way towards his tangled hair, combing your fingers gently through the knots as sigh out, leaning over to press a kiss to the top of his head. Once pulling away, he raises his head, resting his forehead against your own with closed eyes as he whispers out into the near silent kitchen.

"I am such an idiot," you feel his soft cries turning into laughs as you tense once more, "why would you say such a thing about yourself?" you ask in an equally broken tone.

"When thinking back- my recent actions or rather lack there of have been nothing less than... well shit. I'm sorry for all the secrets, some lies and my lack of presence. In my world- I was beyond worrying of slipping something up about my actions but it appears I have done that nonetheless."

Harvey takes a deep breath, eyes opening to capture your own as he fixes his glasses and pushes a hand through his hair- an action that signals he is outputting stress. "What I mean to say is that I love you so greatly- my dear. More than I can even put to words, to think, to know and even categorize what something like what we share can feel- I, I am always at a loss when it comes to you. Lost in the time we share together, lost in your smiles, your laughter, the presence you grace me with. I am the luckiest man alive and perhaps the most undeserving as of late. I love you- and it is you that defines what the word love is and it is only you that places these feelings and definitions into actions that I can only do my best to express."

Harvey shifts up slightly, proping himself up on one knee as you gasp, world spinning yet again as you experience a whiplash of emotions. You cry harder and crane your head back into joyous laughter as he does the same before calling you to face him once more.

"And besides the poor timing, the lack of romanticism, composure on my end and setting of this all. I can only hope that when I present you with this ring, you will help me to greater define what our love can look like, what actions we choose to take together, and make me able to look past, look forward, and to only see you in it all. Will you marry me?" Harvey asks, the ring shining underneath the warm artificial light of the flicker bulb that flutters just like your own heart.

You cry out a yes, you both falling against the tiles as you stare up at the ceiling and in one another arms. With the ring placed on your finger, you hold it up into the light as it refracts all around you- looking towards Harvey you connect smiles and relax to the word that is future.

╰┈➤ A/N: currently crying over this, brb. (hope you enjoyed reading!).

↳ Taglist: @lovelybee666

[sadhours]

Pervy Billy please 🤤🤤🤤

okay okay, here’s a teaser of my upcoming series stuck in the middle with you

billy hargrove x pamela oc!mayfield

cw: 18+ minors dni, perv!billy, stepcest, psuedocest, teasing, groping, dry humping and masturbation

🎀🤍🚬🍦

It’s like the little bitch does it on purpose. Those shorts can barely be classified as such, they’re practically just underwear and she’s prancing around the house like she’s trying to get a rise out of Billy. It’s making him pretty damn bricked up, just trying to enjoy his fucking bowl of Wheaties.

They’re alone. Neil and Susan shopping, like they do most Saturday mornings and Billy’s got no idea where Max is nor does he care. Pamela is doing her chores, pale blonde hair bouncing whenever she reaches down to grab miscellaneous clutter. Thanks to the motion, he also notices she’s not wearing a bra; breasts swaying under her thin cotton shirt. God, her legs are long, he thinks as he skates his eyes up and down them.

Billy’s aware he’s staring. Part of him thinks Pamela wants him to. He shovels another spoonful of cereal in his mouth before dropping the bowl in the sink for Pamela to clean. It’s her chore after all.

He’s got his own chores. Lists them off in his head; fix the leaky faucet in the bathroom, organize the garage, mow the lawn, wack all the weeds and take out the garbage. They can wait, he decides as he keeps his place in the kitchen and watches as his step sister continues on with her chores. Chews on his lip as she uses the scrunchie on her wrist to tie her hair up in a bun. She starts by cleaning off the counters, putting everything back in its place before she takes her place at the sink. A smirk spreads across his lips and he crowds behind her, places his hands on the counter to cage her in.

Pamela tilts her head, doesn’t look at him but exposes her neck like she’s expecting something. Billy takes these movements slow and calculated. He doesn’t want to scare her off, but then again, he’s sure Pamela is playing the same game he is. He laughs, soft as he towers over her. His breath fans over her neck and Pamela’s skin pricks with goosebumps as she wets the sponge. Squirts dish liquid on it before she finally speaks up, “Can I help you?”

Billy purses his lips, closes the gap between Pamela’s ass and his crotch as he tells her, “Just making sure you’re doing a good job is all.”

She snorts but continues cleaning the dishes and maybe Billy’s imagining it but he thinks he feels her push her ass back against him. So he grabs her waist, holds her steady and presses his lips against her exposed neck. It’s not a kiss. Just to feel her warm skin. Rolls his hips slow, testing before moving his hands to feel up her sides. Swooping forward and cupping her breasts in his palms.

He kneads them in his hands, shamelessly rolling his hips and Pamela elicits the prettiest little sound. A moan if Billy’s not mistaken and it makes him greedy. Slams his hips forward, grinding against her ass in those tiny shorts while he gropes at her tits. Pamela drops the silverware and sponge, gripping onto the edge of the counter as she pants.

“See what you’re doing to me?” Billy asks against her ear, rocking his hips forward again. Making sure she can feel the way his cocks hard in his basketball shorts. “Walking around in that shit… dressed like a fucking slut,” he pants, “Tryna get my attention, huh?”

“Billy,” she gasps, a whine of a thing.

He pulls her top up, just enough to expose her tits and gets his hands back on them. Pinches her nipples, rutting against her like the pathetic little perv he is.

“Billy.. we— ah, we can’t,” he babbles out, but she’s still grinding back against him.

“We can’t what?” he grunts out, nose bushing against her temple.

“Do this,” Pamela replies, hands moving to reach for his wrists. “It’s wrong.”

Billy knows it’s wrong. That’s part of why he can’t stop thinking about her like this.

But she’s right. This was probably far enough. He pulls away, looks down at her as she turns. Her pretty face all flushed. And he acts kind of like a child, stomping away to his room and slamming his door. Just to lean against it and shove his shorts down, get his cock out and wrap his hand around it.

“Fuck,” he whines, closing his eyes and imagines his step sister on her knees in front of him. “Oh, you slut,” he whispers, lips twisting up as he plays out this fantasy. Fucks his fist hard and fast, cumming with her name on his lips.

[inlovewithalcinadimitrescu]

I am NOT a writer but I found this in my notes and I thought, this doesn’t suck that much- I probably won’t continue it cuz I have mixed feelings and I’m not used to writing. English isn’t my first language so if there’s any mistake that’s why. This is Wandanat x Reader btw.

When you find yourself on a mission that went downhill pretty fast next to the last pair you would like to be alone with, Maximoff and  Romanoff, let's just say that it's not your ideal way to spend the weekend. It's not like you dislike them, on the contrary, you love them so much it makes you mad.

Natasha and Wanda had been in a relationship for years now, when you joined they were already together so it was a sight everybody else would say you've grown accustomed to.

How wrong they are. The truth is that you craved to be the object in between their affection. You were so jelous they shared kisses and touches sitting on the couch of the compound,

"Y/n",

You felt so jealous of the affectionate hugs from behind that Natasha loves to give to her lover,

"Y/n",

Jelous of the kisses on the cheek that Wanda couldn't go half an hour without giving to her lover,

"Y/n?"

Jealous of-

"Y/n!"

Natasha's voice was not rough, just a higher tone destined to get your attention, she leaned to your side to get closer to your ear "We lost you for a second there".

You blushed and blinked a couple of times "Oh, sorry, I was just thinking-"

"Yes, we need to do a lot of that to get out of here.” Wanda examined the surroundings with a sharp gaze, she had been shot in the shoulder but she didn't seemed fazed by it. "We should try to round the building, there is a safe house that way into the forest" Wanda says way too calm "Are you sure it's a good idea? We could just try to make the run back to the motorcycles and find a way to communicate with the team." Natasha seemed calm on the outside but you could see the way her eyes gave up the worry towards the condition of her partner. "We can treat Wanda in the safe house, the most important thing right now is to get away from this building, we can't risk either of you getting hurt." Wanda looked at you with a warm smile and those gorgeous green eyes while Natasha just nodded at your words with an unreadable expression.

You took the run, you behind them so if any bullet was shot towards them you'll be the one to receive them. It's worth to say that the powers don't take away the pain, and most importantly every wound you got took a toll on your organism. By the end of the run you looked like you just got out of your grave. Your heart rate would've just have already killed any normal human, your eyes were fighting to stay open, a boiling fever was present, you could barely breathe and your body screamed for a lie down. And lie down you did. The last thing you heard was your muffled name and a rustling of a person reaching towards you.

Natasha caught you just in time the moment you passed out, "Shit, lyubov' we need to lie her down". (love) Wanda seemed more preoccupied over you than over her wounded shoulder. Both of them entered the safe house, Natasha lied you down on the bed while Wanda looked for the first aid kit.

"There, there, Malysh" (baby) Natasha was wiping your forehead with a wet towel to try and cool your body down. "Natasha?" Natasha looked up from your face and watched as Wanda was nursing her own wound, Natasha left the cold towel on your forehead to tend to her partner. Wanda's eyes were fixated on you while her lover took care of her. "She's going to be ok, malysh" Natasha said as she finished putting bandages on Wanda's wound.

Silence filled the room, unspoken words clinging to their minds. "What are we going to do?" Wanda's quesion made her partner stare into the eyes of her lover, the intensity of both green eyes didn’t seem to faze either of them, both of them knew what Wanda was referring to. They both glanced at your exhausted body.

Many hours have the duo spent talking about you, many team movie nights have been spent just admiring you, and many other moments have they tried to reach to you but you always seem to be moving on the opposite direction.

Your little secret have been out of the box for a while, one day Wanda heard your thoughts about being with them, she couldn't have been happier to tell her partner that both ways reciprocated, since then they have been trying to get closer to you. "We have to tell her." Natasha interrupted the train of thoughts they both were in.

And that’s it