#i searched “dad stance” for this one

[autitello]

Homosexuality be damned

My boy can work a grill

[rafecameronssl4t]

I need more season one rafe fics please! I love your writing!! Also, last fic was amazing! Tbh I'm not a fan of #her ( yes I'm a hater)

Midsummers || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: It was concerning stumbling across your boyfriend and JJ fighting, but what was more concerning was his comment about Kiara.

Warnings: swearing, mild fighting? if there’s anything else lmk

Word count: 1,425

A/n: my summaries are always so shit 😭 anyways…. this was so much fun to write 😭 if u want more s1 rafe lmk and send thru requests!!!

MASTERLIST

Divider by @yoonitos

“Rafee,” you squeal, feeling his hands firmly grasp your ass, igniting a wave of pleasure that you struggle to contain. His lips trace a heated path along your neck, only intensifying the sensation and making it harder to stifle a moan. “It’s fine, no one’s coming here,” he mutters against your skin, his breath hot and reassuring as it mingles with your mounting desire.

A sudden knock at the door makes Rafe groan in annoyance. “What? We’re kinda busy here!” he yells out, his frustration evident. Undeterred, you press a trail of kisses along his jaw, your lips trailing down to his collarbone, trying to distract him from the interruption.

Topper and Kelce walk in making you huff in annoyance, pulling away from Rafe, who glares at their direction. “Seriously, guys?” you mutter, irritation clear in your voice. “Sorry—uh—JJ just walked in,” Topper stammers.

At the mention of JJ’s name, Rafe’s expression darkens, and he quickly rises to his feet. “What the fuck is that pogue doing here?” he spits out, his eyes flashing with anger. Without waiting for an answer, he glances at you sharply and commands, "Stay here." With that, he storms out of the room, his frustration palpable. You watch as they leave, leaving you alone. With a huff, you get up and begin wandering around the room, trying to find something to entertain yourself.

~

Rafe and his friends race through the island club, their eyes sights set on JJ. He darts through the crowd, but they close in on him, finally cornering him in the locker room. Kelce moves swiftly, seizing JJ and locking him in a tight headlock. JJ struggles, but Kelce’s grip is ironclad. "Hold him still," Rafe commands.

Rafe smirks, his eyes glinting with cruel amusement. "What do you think? A 4 iron, right?" he asks his friends playfully as they all chuckle. "Keep his head still, yeah, Kelce? I'm gonna line this up." Rafe adjusts his stance, mimicking the motion of a golfer about to take a swing. JJ, despite Kelce’s suffocating grip, manages to choke out, "Very Rafe of you. Five on one?"

"If you could please stop talking. It's very disrespectful. I'm trying to hit a ball, alright?" Rafe snaps, his tone sharp and irritated as JJ continues to struggle. He gives a disapproving shake of his head. "Hey, learn your etiquette, my friend." His voice drips with condescension as he lines up his imaginary shot, the tension in the room growing thicker by the second.

~

As the minutes tick by, your boredom intensifies, and you decide to defy your boyfriend's request. Leaving the room, you set off in search of Rafe. It doesn't take long before you hear his voice echoing down a hallway.

Rafe snorts derisively as he examines JJ's bruised and bloodied face. "Your face looks really bad. Starting to look a lot more like your dad—" His sentence is abruptly cut off as JJ spits directly into his face.

“Oh, shit,” you mutter under your breath, feeling your heart rate quicken as the scene unfolds before you. "Rafe?" you call out, stepping forward. Your eyes lock onto JJ, who is trapped in Kelce's grip, his expression defiant despite his situation.

As you approach, Rafe wipes his face and slings his arm around your shoulders, pulling you tightly against him. His grip is firm and almost possessive, a clear display of both his irritation and protectiveness. You can feel the tension radiating from his body.

"What the fuck are you doing here? I told you to stay in the room," he mutters against your head, his voice low and angry. You shrug, unable to find the words to explain your disobedience.

You glance at JJ, who despite his predicament, meets your gaze with a steely resolve. His eyes flick between you and Rafe, and for a moment, a silent communication passes between you. The air is thick with tension, a volatile mix of anger, defiance, and barely contained violence.

Rafe’s friends stand around, their faces a mix of amusement and anticipation. Kelce maintains his grip on JJ, his muscles taut with the effort of holding him still. Rafe’s irritation is palpable, his jaw clenched and his eyes hard as he stares down at JJ.

"Y'know, I never understood why you're dating him, Y/n," JJ says, his eyes raking over you. A scoff escapes your lips as you feel Rafe tighten his hold on you. "What's that supposed to mean?" you ask, tilting your head slightly in challenge.

"Well, isn't it obvious?" JJ chuckles, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You need a man, but he's high off his ass every fucking day. That's not very manly, don't you think?" His words hit you hard, and your face falls. "Are you trying to get killed pogue?" Rafe growls, pushing past you to storm up to JJ.

“Rafe, it’s not worth it,” you whisper softly, placing a hand on his arm to pull him back. But Rafe’s jaw is set, his muscles taut with rage. Suddenly, the lights begin to flicker, and a man walks in. "Gentlemen!" he announces. Kelce immediately releases JJ, shoving him towards you, but Rafe moves quickly, pulling you out of the way just in time.

"Is there a problem here, guys?" The security guard scans all your faces. "Pardon me, officer," JJ quickly interjects, trying to regain control of the situation. "No, there's not an issue. I just—actually, yes. No, there is an issue."

"Uh, we got a criminal trespass in progress here. Beep! Call it in, right?" JJ continues, his voice trembling slightly with mock seriousness. You watch in amusement as Rafe scoffs at him.

"Blatant disrespect for private property—" JJ starts again, but Rafe cuts in "Yep," his voice dripping with sarcasm. "—I'm in violation of all kinds of shit, sir."

The security guard raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by the theatrics. "But these young gentlemen..." JJ begins, reaching out to adjust Kelce's wonky bow tie, but Kelce aggressively pushes him away.

"Don't touch my shit," Kelce snaps, his tone sharp with irritation. JJ stumbles back, caught off guard. "...Uh, caught me, sir, and they're about to take me away," JJ continues, trying to regain his composure amidst the tension in the room. Your head begins to ache from the sheer amount of talking he's doing.

"And that's what you should do, escort me out of here. You got me," JJ says, extending his wrists as if offering them up for arrest, a sardonic grin playing on his lips. You all watch in amusement as he puts on a show for the security guard.

"Come on," the guard says, pulling JJ along with him. "All right. Fix that tie, son," he adds, glancing back at Kelce. JJ turns to Rafe with a smirk, "You're looking spiffy too."

"You powerpuff girls have fun!" JJ taunts, addressing Rafe and his friends before being led away. Leaving your side, Rafe hollers out, "Tell Kiara she looks pretty hot for a pogue!" The words hang in the air, and your jaw nearly drops to the floor at the audacity of his comment.

In a split second, JJ breaks free from the guard's grasp and charges towards Rafe, but Kelce is quick enough to stop him from getting any closer. "You think I'm afraid of you, bro?" JJ shouts, his voice filled with defiance as the guard yanks him away once more.

"Hey! Safe travels back to the cut," Rafe calls out with a smirk on his face, clearly unfazed by JJ's threats. "This ain't over!" JJ shouts as the guard shoves him through the door, his voice echoing down the hallway.

"Hey, hey, it was really nice seeing you again, JJ!" Rafe's voice echoes down the corridor, breaking the tense atmosphere that hangs thickly in the air. He turns, a grin playing on his lips, only to catch your unimpressed expression.

"What, baby?" he questions, his smile faltering slightly as he moves to embrace you, but you push him away with a firm hand on his chest. "The fuck was that for?" Rafe's confusion is evident, his brow furrowing as he tries to make sense of your sudden reaction. The other boys shift uncomfortably, their eyes darting between you and Rafe.

"Are you fucking serious right now?" you snap, your frustration bubbling to the surface. Rafe's expression shifts from confusion to concern, his brows knitting together in worry. "What?" he responds, his voice tinged with confusion.

"Tell Kiara she looks pretty hot for a pogue?" you spit out the words, your tone dripping with venom. "I said that to piss him off, I was fucking joking, wasn't I?" Rafe protests, seeking validation from his friends, who quickly nod in agreement.

"Ha. Ha. Funny joke, Rafe. It had me rolling on the floor," you retort sarcastically, your tone laced with bitterness as you push past him, the fabric of his shirt grazing your fingertips. "Y/n," Rafe starts, reaching out to you, but you cut him off with a sharp glare, your eyes flashing with anger.

"Don't fucking talk to me, dickhead," you say, your voice cold and cutting as you storm away, leaving Rafe and the boys in stunned silence.

[princessbrunette]

jj never left the house without his gun.

with good reason too— the way rafe behaved, and all that shit in the past with the royal merchant or even his dad made jj an antsy, jittery person. he didn’t like feeling caught out or helpless, and the thing about his pistol was that 99.9% of the time it promised him security.

you were used to it. that bulge in his waistband where it was usually tucked, the blonde muttering for you to ‘watch it’ when you’re getting handsy with him in public and accidentally brush it. you didn’t see what the big deal was, after all it was just a pistol.

you hear his sneakers bounding along the floor to his rickety home, skidding and scuffing around as he searches for the weapon that he won’t find. you giggle mischievously, borderline psychotically before he appears at the doorway — seeming a little concerned and out of breath.

“so— you haven’t seen my piece, right?” he blinks.

“oh your gun?” you tilt your head casually and he nods, pressing his lips together. honestly, he was half expecting you roll your eyes and ask him how he could lose a deadly weapon — but instead you smile, drawing back the bed covers from where you sit up in bed in your cute underwear set, pistol in hand.

“oh you mean this gun?” you hold it very loosely and casually making jj freeze up, holding up a hand.

“holy— alright, okay. i get your point mama m’not going to misplace it again just like… put it down.” he demands in that pretty southern accent that made you leak. you were in a bratty mood today, wanting to push him until he broke so that’s exactly what you’d do.

“hm, but i like it. i feel soooo protected and safe right now. y’never know what creeps are out there, jj.” you tease, dragging the cold tip of the gun down your chest, your nipples hard from adrenaline through your bra.

“y’know you’re like — commitin’ all kinds of crimes right now. shouldn’t take someone else’s firearm it’s like, bad gun… karma.” he steps closer towards the bed, still visibly uneasy despite his tone.

“you should arrest me then.” you shrug, eyes lighting up in excitement as the gun travels further down your body, dragging down the soft skin of your stomach to your waistband. he freezes.

“uh… what you doin’ there kittycat?”

“just messing around.” you sigh dreamily, before widening your legs. the blonde looks conflicted— yes it was dangerous and he needed you to hand it back right that instant, but also… you looked good. the tip of the barrel begins to rub slow circles on your clit over your panties and you sigh, brows furrowing as you look up, glassy eyed at your boyfriend.

“babe…” he warns, blinking at your open legs. you swear his dick jumps, visibly.

“feels so good, jj…” you groan, and the second you let your guard down, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure your boyfriend grabs the barrel, disarming you before flipping you onto your front in one fluid movement. you whine in irritation, beginning to squirm violently but the strength of the blonde boy overpowers you and he holds you down effortlessly. “ugh, jj!”

“yeah not so cocky now huh? how you gonna protect yourself now?” he drawls, shoving a thigh between your legs to widen your stance as he keeps you arched. “d’you have any idea how stupid that was?”

“no.”

“yeah i di’nt think so. but you’re gunna.” you feel the cool tip of the gun again, pressed to your back. “slide them panties off. don’t make me tell you twice.”

[perseephoneee]

Can you do a isaac lahey imagine where the reader us on her period and freaks out and doesn't know what to do so lydia tells him what to do

hehe yes omg

period talk (isaac lahey x f!reader)

warnings: fluff, period talk, dumb boy

a/n: try the drink mentioned if you want to imagine running through hogwarts on a winter day.

↳ masterlist ↳  want to be shipped with a fic character?

Isaac wouldn't admit it, but he loved the cold weather. He liked when the winter season would hit, and holidays were a topic of conversation. Holidays were the only time his Dad treated him like he was actually proud of him, and despite that fucked up relationship, Isaac couldn't help but romanticize the season. It's why, when Beacon Hills hit a new low for the weather, he was excited to see you at school. Perhaps he could even convince you to skip class and get hot coco with him.

Unfortunately for him, your period had started therefore your mood was sour. The cold just added to your discomfort, and you basically hissed at him when he came by your locker.

"Woah, what did I do?" Isaac recoiled, a nervous laugh on his lips. You took a deep breath before turning and facing him.

"Nothing, you did nothing," you sighed. "I'm just...not doing great."

"Whats wrong?" Isaac inquired, brows furrowed and concern evident on his face. You loved your cute werewolf boyfriend, and while he was very helpful, he probably couldn't do much for you right now.

"I'm on my period," you admitted with a twinge of shame. Talking about these things was never fun, even to someone you trusted. A blush coated Isaac's cheeks as he processed what you said.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Should I, uh, do something?" Isaac stammered, hands in his pockets.

"Just be you, I'm a big girl and can handle myself," you chuckled, lightly slapping his arm as you closed your locker and started in the direction of class. Isaac stood in the hallway a moment longer, before deducing a game plan and targeting the area of the school he knew the familiar red head would be. She was typing on her phone when he ran up beside her, backpack slung lazily over his shoulder.

"I need your help," Isaac said hurridly, earning a squeak of surprise form Lydia. She set two angry eyes at him, and he resisted the urge to run away. Women did not like him much today.

"Stop sneaking up on me like that," Lydia rolled her eyes, putting her phone in her purse. "What is it?"

"Y/N is on her period, and I want to help, but I don't know what to do, and you're a girl and you're smart so I thought you'd have some ideas?" Isaac rushed, lips pressed in a thin line as Lydia cocked a brow at him.

"Why do you have to make everything so dramatic?" Lydia huffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Isaac sent her a look though that showed that he wasn't going to figure anything out, anytime soon. "Look, unless she asks for products, don't bother trying to buy her them-- you'll likely get the wrong ones anyway. Get her her favorite warm drink, a heating pad, blanket, maybe an activity or something calming."

"Drink, heating pad, blanket, activity, got it," Isaac listed out everything, brows scrunched together in concentration. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, during this time, she's always right. Even if you think she isn't, just agree that you're wrong and she's right. Otherwise, she'll claw your eyes out," Lydia crossed her arms, daring Isaac to challenge her. He stayed quiet though, and she loosened up her stance. "I have to go, have fun, don't get killed."

Isaac was never that great at social cues, but he really liked you, and that was enough. Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling taking pit in his stomach, he skipped out on school to go get the necessary things Lydia listed. Starting off with a butterbeer chai, a concoction you created (two pumps caramel, two pumps toffee, caramel drizzle, and chai); going to CVS for a heating pad and a blanket; then finally the bookstore down the street where he found a book you wanted (after searching through his phone for fifteen minutes trying to find the text where you mentioned wanting a new release). By the time he had finished his grand adventure, school was out and he would be able to surprise you.

You were having a crappy day with a side of more absolute garbage, so you were very pleasantly surprised when your golden hair boyfriend comes bounding up the street as you exit the school building.

"Woah, where's the fire?" you chuckle. You finally take notice of the bags he's carrying, as well as the drink.

"These are for you," Isaac stutters, passing you the drink. You peer in the bag and can't hide the grin on your face as you take in the plethora of supplies he got. "I know you weren't doing well, and I felt bad, so I got some stuff."

"Isaac, you are the sweetest puppy of a boyfriend a girl could ask for," you smile, wanting nothing more than to pick him up and twirl him around (he is too tall, you are too small). "How did you know what to get?"

"I asked Lydia," he mumbles, staring at his feet. You fight back a chuckle.

"Probably the smartest thing you could've done."

"That was my thought process as well," he chimes, scratching the back of his neck and shooting you a grin. You lean up, kissing him on the corner of his mouth and looping his arm through yours.

"C'mon, lets go hide from the cold together and I'll bitch to you about life," you chime, the cold dusting yours and Isaac's cheeks in shades of pink.

"Sounds perfect, just like you," Isaac smiles, kissing the top of your head as you walk off back home.

[carolmunson]

spin doctor | e.m. x reader

mini ficlet, eddie munson works at a record store. he’s a little snobby. sort of shy!reader if you squint? it’s the very late 90s.

tw: 18+ references to smut/virginity, all around meet-cute-ish.

The rain slaps off the top of your coffee cup and into your eyes while you take a sip, woefully regretting not bringing an umbrella because the weather man said it was only misting. This isn't mist, this is just under a downpour, the hood of your dad's old canvas jacket doing little to protect you from the rain while it darkens with each drop the green fabric absorbs. You stop at the corner, protecting yourself from the weather under the awning of a laundromat. Squinting up towards the overcast gray sky, you double check the cross streets, two more blocks and you'll make it there. There being the record store that you found in the yellow pages after you inherited your parent's record player in their latest attic clean out. Your dad was smart though, sold all of the records that were in mint condition to collecters -- which left you recordless and sort of at a loss of where to start now that they were only sold at specialty stores.

You hurry your way down the next two blocks, finally seeing the sign for VI Chord Records lit up across the street in buzzing red neon. You wait to cross, seeing the reflection of the light in the wet asphalt while the sky starts to darken. Winter easing in slow these days while the nights start to come quicker than expected.

The door jingles when you open it, two guys at the check out counter looking up breifly and then back to their conversation; the other patrons don't even look. You take a breath, happy that at least no one is paying attention. You've never been to a record store before -- bought music, sure; CDs and cassettes but never vinyl -- that was like an old people thing. But your dad couldn't stop going on and on about how music just sounds better when you listen to it like that; and to be fair a lot of your favorites from the 60s and 70s sounded flat on your Walkman. You were on the hunt for the authentic experience now, the real deal.

You start at the 'New Arrivals' bin, pulling down your hood and taking off your headphones to put in your nylon back pack while you search. You sip your coffee while your fingers flick, flick, flick through the sleeves, crunching on and over the plastic protective covering of each record. You don’t know who most of the artists are, names hidden in intricate artwork or vulgar close ups of tits and crotch. You laugh at a few under your breath.

You continue your search, going over to the K section to see if you can find Carole King’s Tapestry, only to be inundated with Kiss record after Kiss record. Kix, Krokus, Kick Axe — King nowhere in the bunch. You let out a soft sigh, eyes scanning the back wall over the guys heads at the check out counter. Guitars hang on the velvet wall paper, gleaming with a fresh sign with scribbles of signatures on them. You land over by the S section, fingers flick flick flicking again to run into Slayer, T’s taken over by Twisted Sister. You don’t even realize how much time has gone by until you take a sip of coffee and nothing is left.

“Can I help you find something?”

You jump, not expecting to head a disembodied voice by the back of your neck, “Huh?”

“You just seem like you’re not finding what you’re looking for, can I help?”

You turn while he asks, one of the guys from the counter who looks like he’s stuck somewhere in the 80s and his grunge phase. His hair is to his shoulders, wavy and cut into a shag that put your moms 70s hair do to shame. The slight stubble on his chin and cheeks stretches with his smile — customer service perfection, but only for pretty things like you.

His crosses his arms over his army green tee, matching your coat that’s nearly dry now. His tattooed arms bulge slightly in the stance, straining against the small sleeves. Your eyes focus on the guitar pick dangling in the center of his chest; suddenly embarrassed by the attention.

“Um,” you start, eyes flicking up to meet his brown ones — soft and eager, like he’s excited to talk to you. Your eyes scan down to the black and gray flannel tied around his narrow waist, falling limply over his dark wash worn jeans into combat boots.

“Uh,” you stutter for a second, trying to not to get caught up in this handsome stranger, “I’m sorta new to records. My dad just gave me his but he sold all his good stuff so um — starting from zero I guess.”

“Ooh, nice,” he grins, “So a virgin, huh?”

You sputter, “Well um — no but —”

“Vinyl virgin, sweetheart,” he winks, “Don’t worry. I don’t need to know the horny details.”

“So what were you trying to find today?” he asks, leaning against the stacked milk crates full to the brim at the center of the room, “We actually just got some solid rares in if you’re trying to start a good collection.”

“I just wanna listen to oldies,” you laugh.

He laughs too, it’s smoky and cool, “Nah, nah, I hear you. What kinda oldies like — early Black Sabbath or…?”

You bite your lower lip, “I was more thinking like um, Motown? The Temptations? Maybe some James Taylor. I was mostly trying to find The Flamingos single for —”

He laughs while you continue on but then realizes you aren’t joking, head coming back to center, “Oh you’re, you’re serious?”

You feel heat lick at your cheeks and chest, sweat slickly creeping on the top of your back, “Yeah I thought…it’s a record store so—”

“Not that kind, princess,” he shrugs, hands dropping to lean against the crates behind him, “We only sell hard rock and metal here for the most part. You could check the dollar bins for drop offs, we don’t really sort those.”

“Oh,” you nod, averting his gaze while you see the big bin in the corner labeled ‘Dollar Donations’.

“Yeah maybe you’ll find your doo-wop stuff in there or something,” his voice has a hint of teasing to it that makes your teeth grit.

“Are you like, shitting on me?” you ask shakily, kind of surprised this is actually happening to you. That this guys is legitimately being a jerk over wanting music that maybe he’s not into.

“No, no, no,” he urges, “No. I’m sorry, seriously. It’s just that we don’t really get people who come in here not looking for what we sell. We’re kinda well known for being a vintage metal store.”

“Yeah well, I didn’t know that so,” you shrug, defeated weighing down your shoulders.

“It’s okay,” he assures, sweet smile tugging his lips up to reveal deep dimples, “You’re a vinyl virgin, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember,” you roll your eyes, making your way to the bin while he follows behind you.

“Maybe if you tell me what kind of music you like now I can find a good one for you,” he offers, hand resting on his chest that’s covered in silver rings and chipped nail polish, “I’ve been told I make great recommendations.”

“I’ve been liking Blink-182 lately. Backstreet Boys on the other side of the coin,” you shrug, “And um, one of my friends has been trying to get me into Nine In Nails.”

“Now we’re talking,” he smiles, “There we go. Anything else? What’s the other older stuff you like?”

“Uh, um,” you shrug again, “Elton John? Eric Clapton?”

He nods again, “Okay, some of this stuff I can work with. What about uh, hmm, Fleetwood Mac? Sort of your vibe?”

You smile at him without meaning to, making him nearly stutter at the site, “Yeah, that’s sort of my vibe.”

“Alright,” he nods while he racks his brain for the perfect album to pick for you, “I think I got an idea of what to pull for you.”

“Okay,” you cross your arms with a smirk, “Fine. I hope it’s impressive.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he grins cockily, “Never had anyone complain about me popping their cherry.”

“At least take a girl for a drink first,” you joke back, “I don’t even know your name.”

“I’m Eddie,” his hand extends out and you take it, his skin warm and slightly clammy at his never ending bumbling when talking to girls like you, “Happy to be taking your vinyl virginity today.”

You laugh, squeezing his hand slightly when you introduce yourself before letting go, “Be gentle, please. I’m new to this.”

“C’mon,” he cocks his head to the opposite wall by the ‘F’ section, “I got a lot to show you. We’ll go slow.”

He winks again; making you swallow hard. It might not have been where you meant go today, but it might have been exactly where you were meant to be.

[hellfire-state-of-mind]

don't you worry your pretty little mind

pairing: Dave York x fem!reader

rating: PG for 1 (one) ass squeeze but otherwise just all the fluff

word count: ⁓ 1.3k give or take

warnings: none, i think?? teeny tiny smidge of angst at the very beginning, Dave being an adorable dad, one singular ass squeeze as mentioned above, reader has no physical description besides being called "wife"

a/n: my contribution to @happypedrohours's Charcuterie Board Challenge!! thank you Mel and Sara for putting all of this together 🥰 my pairing was Dave + feta cheese. the event doesn't technically start until Friday but i have another wip scheduled for that day 👀 and i was just too excited to wait to share this. happy belated father's day to our favorite murder daddy 💛

“Honey, have you seen the feta?”

Dave wanders into the kitchen to see your entire top half buried in the open fridge. He laughs at the sight and you whip around with wide eyes.

“Well?”

“It should be right there on the shelf in front of you.” Dave leans on the counter beside you, chuckling again as you dive back in.

“You’re right, it should be. But it’s not.” You slam the door closed and begin pacing around the kitchen, opening various cabinets in a frantic search.

“Sweetheart, it’s not going to be under the sink with the sponges.” Dave tries to reason with you but you’re set on your task. He finally sighs and gently takes your wrist, halting your movement. “Hey, relax. It’s just a stupid plat-”

“David York, I swear to God if you say ‘stupid platter’ one more time, I will hit you over the head with the cutting board,” you threaten only half-seriously. “This is the one thing your mother requested for this party and it’s ruined.”

Dave fights the urge to roll his eyes as you’re already on edge and he knows it would only piss you off even more. “It is not ruined because there’s one thing missing. Look,” he wraps his arm around you and directs you to the center island where your meticulously designed charcuterie board lays out, “there is plenty of food here already. Grapes, olives, bell peppers, pitas and hummus. Carrots and ranch for the girls.” He turns to you and lifts your chin to meet your eyes. “My mother is not going to miss one thing out of all of this.”

You huff despite your appreciation of his attempt to reassure you. “Yes, she will. Because she hates me.” You cross your arms, deflating as Dave scoffs and backs away, rubbing his forehead.

“We’ve been over this. She does not-”

“Yes, she does, Dave! She literally told me herself that I’m the reason you and Carol split!”

“And we both know that couldn’t be further from the truth!”

“Yes! I know that. You know that. But she is convinced that I’m a homewrecker and she’s on a mission to destroy me by nitpicking every single thing that I do.” You match Dave’s stance, rubbing your own forehead to stave off a headache. “I just…she’s your mother, Dave, and I…”

Dave sighs and closes the distance between you again, rubbing your arms soothingly. “I know, baby, I know. I appreciate you wanting to impress her but in the end, it won’t make any difference.” Your head shoots up, brows furrowed in confusion. “I love you. You’re my wife. And nothing my mother says or does is going to change the way I feel.”

You relax at his clarification. Scrunching your eyes closed, you groan in defeat and lean your head on his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist. You hold each other for a moment, Dave rubbing your back. Finally, Dave lets out a deep relenting breath.

“But if it really means that much to you, I’ll run to the store and get more.”

You squeeze him tight and peck his lips, a cheesy smile breaking across your face. “Thank you.”

When Dave returns 3 hours later, the kitchen is even more a mess than it was before. It looks like the fridge vomited all of its contents across the counters and dining table. Your charcuterie board, however, still sits untouched in the middle of the island. You’re nowhere in sight.

Dave sets the plastic grocery bag containing your cheesy trophy next to the culinary creation and opens his mouth to call your name, but the doorbell cuts him off. He goes to the door, welcoming in his daughters and ex-wife. Carol bears a tray of brownies and follows Dave to the kitchen while Molly and Alice race upstairs.

Carols lets out a low whistle at the tsunami of food items. “Doing some spring cleaning, Dave?” she jokes.

Dave just shakes his head in exasperation as you enter in from the garage. “I thought I heard the door!” You cross over to give Carol a quick, friendly hug and take the dessert tray from her.

“Baby, what…is all this?” Dave turns in a circle, motioning to the room around him.

You crouch down and rifle through a cabinet for a plate to set out the brownies. “I turned the entire fridge inside-out looking for the feta. No luck.” Standing, you see the grocery bag on the island and gasp delightedly. “You got it! What took you so long, anyway?”

Dave groans and drops his head back tiredly. “You would not believe the trials I endured to find that for you.”

You and Carol laugh at his dramatics. She pats his shoulder and ventures over to the stairs in search of the girls. You round the island and place your hands on his chest. “My hero.”

He looks down at you, smiling at the appreciation in your eyes and pulling you into his arms. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Yeah, I am.” You lean up to kiss him and he happily accepts, cupping your cheek with one hand to deepen it. You pull away slightly to mutter against his lips. “I’ll have to figure out a way to thank you later.”

A rumble emits from deep in Dave’s chest as his other hand slides down to cup your ass, earning a soft squeak from you as he squeezes. “I might have a couple ideas.”

You pull apart from each other as a shout from upstairs warns the impending arrival of Molly and Alice. You unpack the cheese and begin slicing it as the thunder of small feet spills down the stairs and into the kitchen. Dave steps forward and catches Alice in his arms as she runs in, followed closely by her sister, lifting her with an exaggerated groan as she squeals in excitement. “You’re getting too big for me, baby girl.”

You laugh and smile fondly at Dave interacting with his daughters. Carol enters and quietly offers to help you arrange the platter, careful not to interrupt the heartwarming scene in front of you. You start handing her pieces of cheese as Molly walks over and plops her chin on the countertop with a disappointed huff. “Awww, you found it.”

You scrunch your eyebrows and look up at her. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”

“I hid the cheese, but you found it anyway.”

This catches Dave’s attention as he looks over, putting his hands on his hips in a typical dad stance. “Where did you hide it, Mol?”

The young girl crosses to the fridge but opens the door to the freezer instead. She digs to the back of the bottom drawer and emerges with a rock-solid brick of feta cheese. “Right here.”

Carol’s jaw falls open in surprise. You press your lips together, stifling a laugh. Dave stutters out, “W-why…why would you put it there?”

Molly shrugs, unconcerned. “Because it’s gross and I didn’t want it.”

You burst into a fit of giggles at the innocent statement and Alice joins in. Carol simply sighs and drops her head in exasperation before devolving into soft laughter as well. Dave, meanwhile, still stands with his hands on his hips, blinking repeatedly as he tries to comprehend his daughter’s words.

He finally looks over at you incredulously and you try to smother your amusement for his sake, but the look on his face is too priceless and only makes you laugh even harder.

“Happy Father’s Day?”

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Reunion

Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, Sam Winchester x little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: Dean goes to get Sam at college, but things come to a head when he tried to get you too.

“So, where is she?”

The first several minutes after leaving Stanford had been spent in silence, and Sam only broke it after realizing what was missing in the Impala.

“We’re getting her now.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Dean sighed. “Bobby’s.”

“Bobby’s?”

Dean avoided Sam’s searching gaze.

“Yeah.”

“You gonna tell me why she’s there and not with you?”

It was silent for several long minutes, and Sam was about to demand an explanation when Dean finally spoke.

“After you left, she kept begging to go and see you. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, and dad got pissed. After she…after she tried to sneak out to take a bus to you, dad dumped her at Bobby’s. That was about eight months ago, and dad hasn’t even mentioned her since.”

Sam gaped at his brother.

“You let that happen?”

Dean scoffed, “It’s not like I let dad do anything. Dad does what he does, and there was nothing I could do about it.” Dean continued to avoid Sam’s eyes. “Besides, she was safer with Bobby. She’d been asking questions about hunting that neither of us were willing to answer, and Bobby’s better at lying to her than I am.”

Despite John’s better judgment, he’d allowed Dean to raise you with no knowledge of the hunting world. You knew that Sam and Dean helped a lot of people, and you’d figured out that their job had something to do with crime—you’d realized that when you noticed how many of their cases came from reading the newspaper—but you didn’t know about monsters.

“Ok,” Sam did a horrible job of hiding his seething, but perhaps that was on purpose. “So why are we getting her now?”

Dean shrugged noncommittally.

“Well, you’re back, figured I’d make it a full reunion.”

“Right,” Sam scoffed. “And dad’s not here to stop you.”

Dean bit back a smile.

“Maybe that too.”

…

“She’s asleep,” Bobby stood with his arms crossed over his chest, blocking the staircase.

“We’re here to get her,” Dean matched his stance and his stubborn expression.

“You shoulda thought of that eight months ago.”

Sam ran a hand across his face, biting back a groan.

“Bobby, please, can we just-“

“Hush, Sam. My beef isn’t with you at the moment.”

“You can’t just keep us from-“

“I can do whatever I dang well please, Dean. She’s been with me for nearly a year, and she just unpacked her bags a few weeks ago. She kept expecting you idjits to come back and get her, but you never did.”

“Dad thought-“

“I don’t give a crap what John thought, you broke her heart. So if you’re gonna take her and raise her proper, then I’ll let you. But if you’re gonna uproot her again, only to drop her back with me the next time she starts asking questions, then it’d be better if she never saw you again.

“We’re not gonna ditch her,” Sam insisted.

“Well thanks for the input, but last I checked you were trying to leave this life behind, so your vote doesn’t count.”

“I’m not gonna leave her, Bobby.”

The conviction in Dean’s voice silenced him for a few seconds.

“And when John comes back?”

Dean shook his head, “She stays with me. No matter what he has to say about it.”

Bobby gave Dean a long, searching look. He’d never heard him openly defy John before, never even say a word against him. When the time came, would he really-

“Dean?”

Dean’s head shot up at the sound of your voice.

“Dean!” You bounded down the stairs, and when you reached the third step you leaped off, landing harshly into Dean’s arms. He staggered back a half step before steadying himself, laughing as he spun you around once before standing in place, lifting a hand to the back of your head as he held you in his arms.

Bobby watched the scene soberly for a moment, before a small smile lifted his lips. He’d gotten his answer. No one who saw the two of you right now could doubt the truth; you were Dean’s girl, and he wouldn’t abandon you.

“Hey baby,” Dean breathed.

“Are you staying?” You held your breath.

“Nope, but you’re coming with us,” Dean promised, finally setting you down.

“Really? I-“ You turned your head, spotting Sam for the first time, and you froze. “Sammy?”

He grinned, “Hey, kiddo.”

You ran into his arms.

“What are you doing here? Are you coming too?”

“Um,” Sam winced slightly, “For a little bit, yeah.”

Then you asked the question that the boys had been hoping to avoid for a bit longer.

“Where’s dad?”

“Honey,” Dean pulled you away from Sam and knelt so he could see you at eye level, placing a hand on your arm. “Dad…he hasn’t come home for a couple weeks. That’s why I got Sammy, we have to go look for him.”

You were silent for a moment.

“Is he ok?” You finally asked.

“We don’t know much right now, but we’re gonna find him, ok? I promise.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Ok.”

He sighed contentedly, and as he stood you wrapped your legs around his waist, too comfortable in his arms to let go yet.

“I missed you,” you whispered as though it was a special secret for only Dean’s ears.

Dean began to carry you up the stairs, brushing past Sam and Bobby.

Once Dean had reached your room at the top of the stairs, he leaned forwards and pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

“I missed you too,” he whispered back, before gently setting you down. “Pack up your stuff.”

Once you’d grabbed your few possessions and packed them in your backpack, you followed Dean down the stairs, stopping to hug Bobby goodbye.

“Take care of yourself, kiddo.”

You smiled, “You too, old man.”

Bobby scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Go on, get. Ya idjit.”

Sam followed you out the door, but Bobby grabbed Dean’s arm before he could leave.

“You take care of that little girl, Dean. I know you look up to your dad, you should. But don’t you be like him. You be good to her.”

“I will, Bobby,” Dean clapped a hand on Bobby’s shoulder.

“I promise.”

[jeonqbunny]

sounds like denial

megumi fushiguro x reader smut ♡

summary: megumi & you never got along as roommates, until one day you found him using your panties to get himself off.

content warning: dom!megumi x sub!f!reader, degradation, pussy slapping, choking, cnc if you squint, edging, use of petnames (slut, whore, good girl) MEGUMI IS AGED UP!

word count: 3.7k

MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI!

megumi fushiguro was the absolute bane of your existence. his cold shoulder was one that made you fume with anger. he was a neat freak, constantly moving your items from the place where you had left them to leave you frantically searching for them in your time of needing them.

“megumi– i swear to god if you move my keys again, i will strangle you.” you growled under your breath as you snatched them out of the top drawer in your shared kitchen. he shrugged, not paying much mind to your anger as it didn’t intimidate him like you thought it did. his spiky raven locks fell into his face when he snapped his head to look at you scurrying out of the kitchen and heading towards the front door.

“yeah yeah ye– wait, where are you going? don’t you have something better to do? like y’know.. study for your finals?” he crossed his arms over his chest, his dark blue orbs burning holes into your skin. you reached up to tug at your hair in annoyance, shooting back the same glare he gave you.

“god, is what i do really any of your business megumi? you’re my roommate, not my fucken dad.” you spat, adjusting your stance as you rested against the door frame. “you’re in a pissy ass mood and i’m not having it. if you’re gonna go, just go.” he barked back, a hint of annoyance coating his words. kicking his feet up on the coffee table in front of him, he rested his arms behind his head as his eyes closed as if to instigate some more.

he tried his very best to act nonchalant, but you were genuinely striking a nerve at this point. normally, as much as he hated to admit it, he did enjoy getting a rise out of you, but only when it really benefited him. and right now, you weren’t benefiting him in the slightest.

you swallowed thickly, biting back the venom that your thoughts threatened to spit at him. you let out a scoff, pivoting on your foot to leave the apartment dramatically. you had a meeting with your teacher to go over your exams, and no thanks to megumi, you were now running late. when megumi heard the door click shut, one of his eyes opened to the side as if to make sure you were really gone.

he hesitantly stood to his feet, a thought weighing on his mind as he lugged himself to his bedroom. he threw himself onto his plush mattress, a small ‘squeak’ sounding from the extra weight added to the wooden bedframe. he let a soft sigh fall from his pretty lips, his eyes closing once again as he tried to gather his thoughts

suddenly, memories of his friends constantly teasing him about his supposed crush on you filled his mind. it angered him to think about, there was no way in hell he would ever find you, of all people, attractive. at least that’s what he told himself every time he took a huff of your panties while fisting his throbbing, leaky dick.

the view of you walking around the house in nothing but a t-shirt and underwear began flooding his mind, his member stiffening and straining against the fabric of his sweats. the way your hips swayed with every step you took, the moans he would hear coming from your room late at night when you felt lonely. god, he wished he was the one to make you moan so prettily like that.

his hand ghosted along the expanse of his toned abdomen, slipping under the waistband of his sweats to palm at his needy cock. a whine bubbled in his throat, his hips gyrating forward into his hand to cause more friction. his hand shot over to his nightstand, haphazardly tugging the drawer open before stirring around his belongings. that’s when he felt it, the fabric of a fresh pair of your panties he stole from your dirty laundry hamper the night before.

he gripped it in his clutch tightly, slamming the drawer shut before sniffing them. a wanton groan fell from his throat, his eyes closing tightly as he inhaled your scent. his hand moved against his cock faster, pants and moans of your name filling the air as he continued his more than sinful ministrations.

the lustrous fabric of his boxers decorated with precum became increasingly more annoying, causing him to huff in frustration before tugging his pants and boxers down. he sighed in relief when his needy dick sprung free, the tip flushed a shade of angry red as his precum dribbled down his shaft to his balls.

a pang of guilt filled his chest as he began to fist the tip of his cock, his thumb brushing over his aching slit. he used his precum as lube, a loud squelching sound following each swift stroke of his hand. he ran his tongue along the fabric of the panties where your pussy would sit, shivering in ecstasy as his head flopped back in pleasure. “i’m so sorry y/n.. i– i’m so sorry..” he whimpered under his breath, gripping his member tighter and thrusting it into his hand.

he felt this climax approaching rapidly, the scent of your pussy lingering on the panties he was lapping at so desperately. the knot tightening in his abdomen and threatening to burst at any moment, and just as he was right about to finish.. he heard his door slowly creak open as you began to talk.

“sorry for wh– oh. oh my god?” there you stood, looking like a deer in headlights as you took in what laid in front of you. you chortled in shock, your palm smacking your mouth to stifle the laugh that threatened to come out. you didn’t really know what to say or do at this point, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks as you stood there, entirely unable to move as it all processed.

those were your panties, a pair you’ve been trying to find for a hot minute, in fact. megumi ceased his movements all together, scrambling to try and pull his pants over his hips as he tossed the panties to the side in an attempt to hide them. but it was already too late, he had been busted jerking off with your panties pressed to his face. his cheeks were just as red as yours, the both of you exchanging a look of ‘what the fuck’ for a brief moment before you padded over to sit on the edge of his bed.

“that’s literally humiliating, i would not want to be in your shoes right now.” you mocked, a toothy grin growing on your face as you watched his chest heave in anxiety. he didn’t know what to say or do, wanting nothing more than to just disappear from existence in that moment. “shut the fuck up oh my god. just– just get out!” stammering, he sat up in bed and huffed at you in exasperation. this only caused you to giggle under your breath, shaking your head gently as you slide your hand up the length of his leg before reaching the erection twitching in his sweats.

“well you started, might as well finish it.” your head was spinning in confusion, you never in a million years would have thought that megumi saw you like that. you were palming at his erection teasingly before his hand flung down and gripped your wrist tightly. you gasped, slightly taken aback, your eyes flickered into his with confusion written all over your expression.

he wasted no time in pushing you to your back, crawling on top of you before he made the decision to let go of your wrist. “listen, if you think that i’m actually attracted to you, you’re–” you cut him off swiftly, letting out a scoff and smirking at him. “oh, so you only find me attractive enough to sniff my panties while getting yourself off?” you retorted, your head tilting to the side as his body caged you in. “sounds like denial to me, ‘gumi.”

this only provoked him further, his eyebrows knitting together in frustration before looping his fingers around the waistband of your shorts and yanking them off with little to no effort. you shrieked, squirming to escape his grasp as you began to protest. “stop bein’ stupid and let me go, you asshole!” you whined, your body writhing underneath him only stroking his newfound ego all the more.

“oh, so your little pussy soaking your panties means you don’t want this? sounds like denial to me.” he snapped back like a rubber band, a cocky smirk gracing his glossy lips as he looked down at you. you rolled your eyes, a slight pout forming on your lips as your legs quivered. his hand reached in between your legs, pressing two fingers against the outline of your soaking wet folds through the panties. he didn’t expect you to give in so easily, but it didn’t exactly surprise him, either.

he rubbed up and down your aching slit with two of his fingers, entirely neglecting your swollen clit as if to tease you even more. you struggled a bit more, bucking your hips on his fingers for at least some stimulation on your swollen nub. he tsked, leaving a harsh smack on your sloppy cunt before rubbing his palm against it to soothe the sting. “you’re such an annoying slut, even in bed.” he husked out, his steel blue eyes eating up the way the thin fabric of your panties stuck to your pussy.

you mumbled out a small ‘sorry’ as you bucked your hips forward, in urgent need to get your pussy touched by him again. “not so hard, now is it? i just knew you were a cock hungry whore, scampering around the house in your dirty little panties to tease me..” he trailed off, two of his digits ghosting over your clit. “just admit it, you need me to fuck you.”

“i hate you.” you hissed back, your eyebrows furrowing in anger from the way he teased you. he pulled his fingers away, throwing a glare your way before shaking his head. “nah, i don’t think you do, y/n.” he cooed, his fingers running along the edge of your panties to provoke you further. “but i could make you hate me, if that’s what you want.” he snickered, his eyes darting between your angry expression and your throbbing core.

“fuck you, disrespectfully.” you still tried to show even an ounce of control, but deep down you wanted him. you knew it, and he did too. “so that’s how you like it?” he asked in a low grumble, slowly sliding your panties down your plump thighs. his gaze never left yours, your panties now hanging loosely at your ankles before you kicked them off to the end of the bed. 

megumi felt his breath catch in his throat from the sight of your leaky cunt, swallowing thickly, causing his adam’s apple to bob in its wake. he visibly shuddered in excitement when he finally made contact with your bare heat, his tongue sliding across his bottom lip in concentration as he swiped the pad of his thumb over your clit.

you let out a whiny yelp, reaching up to grip his shoulder as he continued pleasuring you. his chest was swelling with pride at this point, his pretty blue eyes fluttering closed as he felt your grip tighten with every movement of his finger. “such a pretty pussy.. i wanna taste it..” he groaned, his eyes snapping open to look at the way your arousal dripped down to your ass and onto the bed sheets below.

“i thought you said you weren’t attracted to me.” you snorted, batting your eyelashes at him with a knowing smile pulling at your lips. with this, megumi wasted no time in grabbing your panties and shoving them into your mouth. “do you ever shut your whorish mouth up or what?” he shoved them further into your mouth, causing you to gag and whine. the sight of you choking on your own panties made his cock twitch in his pants, a dark stain bleeding through his gray sweats.

“doesn’t feel so nice does it? choking on your panties, and you still need more. now you really understand how i felt.” still rubbing quick circles on your aching clit, his other hand gripped your inner thigh, digging the tips of his fingers into your skin and holding your legs open with ease.

“can’t say much now, can you?” your reactions amused him, his thumb never relenting from the pace he set on it. he reached up with his spare hand, spitting on his middle and index finger before swiping them against the edge of your needy little hole. he pushed them in slowly, his forearm tensing up from the way you gripped onto his digits.

“fuck, you’re so mmnhh– tight. for a greedy slut, that is.” he pumped his fingers in and out of your heat, his jaw falling slack as he watched his fingers slip in and out with a loud ‘squelch.’ you mewled at the feeling of his fingers sliding against your gummy walls, your eyes closing tightly as a sheer coat of sweat started to grow on your forehead. “please ‘gumi.. please fuck me.” you cried out, your syllables breaking with every thrust of his fingers.

the sight was absolutely marvelous from megumi’s point of view. the way your lips parted, your legs trembling and the way your eyes slammed shut in pleasure as he ravaged your insides with his fingers, fuck it was all almost too much for him to handle. he was finally able to put you in your place after months of torture with your bratty and unbearable attitude. 

“now you’re begging, such a good little whore.” he chimed, his fingers curling upwards into your g-spot, his wrist moving back and forth rapidly. your body tensed up, your hands gripping the sheets below you until your knuckles turned a pearly shade of white. “i’m so close.. i’m so close.. please..” you sobbed, your hips lifting off the mattress to match the thrust of his fingers.

megumi halted his movements, watching you writhe and cry from your orgasm fizzling away. “you’re not gonna get to cum that easily, sweetheart. you gotta work for it. you can do that for me can’t you, slut?”  he chuckled deviously, his fingers moving inside of you once again, you immediately clenched around his fingers, that familiar feeling building in your tummy again.

“gonna cu–” you were immediately cut off, his fingers pulling all the way out and leaving you empty. you squealed in displeasure, a flood of frustration filling your veins as your hips stuttered forward in a desperate endeavor to reach an orgasm. megumi tsked again, biting the inside of his cheek briefly before leaning down to press a soft kiss to your clit. 

“don’t worry, i’ll let you cum. eventually.” he goaded, running the tip of his tongue up your slit to lap at your juices. this elicited a blissful groan from megumi, his tongue diving into your throbbing hole and licking upwards to gather more of your slick. your hands shot down to tangle in his jett black hair and pull him closer to your pussy, your moans unwavering as he slurped up your cunt like his last meal.

“me– megumi!” you gasped, your thighs slamming closed around his head. he removed his tongue from inside your cunt, licking up your folds to your clit and sucking it into his mouth. he swiftly pulled your thighs apart, pinning them down to the mattress as he continued to suck your clit hungrily, his tongue sliding against it. your eyes rolled into your skull, your head falling backwards onto his silken pillows. “i’m– fuck. i’m gonna cum.” you choked out, your voice muffled from the panties in your mouth as your fingers grasped at his hair tighter, your hips grinding against his lips.

he let out a hum of approval, the vibrations of his voice shooting through your mound as you squeaked out in pleasure. your long awaited orgasm finally crashed over you, your back arching off the bed and your legs trembling as your tight walls pulsated and fluttered continuously. megumi collected your cum on his tongue, swallowing down every last drop that dripped from your pleasure-ridden cunt.

your chest heaved as you finished riding out your high, looking down to find megumi already slipping his painfully hard cock out of his sweats. “your pussy tastes better than i could have imagined, the panties didn’t do you nearly enough justice.” he said, his voice laced with pure and utter arousal. he gently plucked the panties from your mouth, shooting you a devilish smirk. you whined, your head falling back again as he pressed the tip to your entrance.

“now it’s my turn, greedy slut.” he pushed the tip in, your walls struggling to accommodate his length as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. he trembled, taking a deep breath through gritted teeth as he pushed in to fill you up to the hilt. you shrieked, a sting shooting through your inner walls from the sudden stretch. you reached upwards, wrapping your arms around his neck to hold yourself together while you adjusted to his size.

he remained still, his patience running thin as he felt your hot gummy walls coil around his cock. “i’m gonna move now, so be the good little slut you are and take it.” he growled, reaching up with one of his hands to grip your chin firmly. he slowly pulled out and pushed back in, letting your slick cum coat his dick entirely before setting a pace.

his hips slammed into you ruthlessly, the bulbous tip of his cock grazing over all of your sweet spots with every thrust of his hips. he fucked you like his life depended on it, he’d rather die than have to stop fucking you. months of fantasizing about your tight pussy, and he was finally getting it.

your cum from your previous orgasm splattered with every harsh thrust into your pussy. still reeling from the way your walls gripped him like a vice, megumi let out a strained moan and slammed his eyes shut tightly. his hand slid down your chin to your neck, squeezing the sides lightly while his other hand grazed your hardened nipples through your shirt.

“i want this off, wanna see how pretty your tits look when they bounce.” he grumbled, his hand getting closer to the hem of your shirt to pull it over your chest. he gasped slightly, his eyes drinking up every curve of your breasts before capturing one of your nipples in his mouth and sucking softly. you wiggled underneath him, the sensitivity making your head feel like it was going to explode. he pulled off your sensitive bud with a subtle ‘pop’, his dark eyes finding yours to send you a threatening glance. you immediately knew what it was for, trying your best to hold still as you clamped down on the cock that was currently splitting you open. 

“that’s more like it, good girl.” he praised with a hum, running his slick hot tongue across your nipple again before sucking it between his lips. he drifted the hand that was gripping your neck tightly down to your other breast, kneading at the flesh. his hips began to stutter from the way your gummy wet walls clenched around him, an exasperated huff coming from his chest.

you could tell he was getting close from the way his manhood twitched inside of you, and you really weren’t far behind him. “i– i’m gonna cum ‘gumi.. ‘m so close..” whimpering and moaning, megumi rutted his hips into you faster. a breathy chuckle leaving his lips as he looked down at you all fucked out on his cock.

“i– fuck. i’m close too. go ahead and cum for me, slut.” he permissed harshly, his hand gripping your tit tighter as he felt you unravel around him. your second orgasm hit you like a truck, your head light and spinny as it rolled to the side. sobs and moans tore through your throat, pleads of his name rolling off your tongue as your slick absolutely drenched his dick.

this threw megumi over the edge, gritting his teeth, his thrusts became a lot less calculated and a lot more sloppy. “gonna cum inside of you, make sure you really know your fucking place.” he mumbled in finality– his cock now pushed right against the entrance to your womb as he filled you up with his load.

you hissed, sucking in air through your teeth as you felt his hot cum paint your walls. megumi’s arms shook as he held himself up, choking back moans as he came down from his high. once you were both finished and panting, you looked at each other in a certain way that had you both holding back laughter.

he pulled his softening dick out of you, hurriedly getting up from the bed to grab a rag. “fuck fuck fuck such a mess.” he stammered, reaching you to wipe up the cum that was beginning to leak from your insides. you cackled breathlessly, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him as he cleaned you up, his eyes narrowing in concentration.

“you literally just came in me, and you’re worried about the mess?” provoking him in your fucked out state was the wrong idea. he laid another harsh smack on your clit, causing a loud shriek to rip out from your lungs. he smirked, swiping your leaking slit once more before tossing it in the dirty bin.

“you just became a slut for my cock and you already forgot how to speak to me?” he paused, sliding on a new pair of boxers as he looked down at you all sprawled out on his sheets. “i thought you were pretending to be stupid, but maybe you really are.” you scoffed, your hand gripping your chest in faux offense before speaking. “i hate you so much.” you mumbled, your lips forming into a small pout causing a throaty chuckle to bubble up in megumi’s chest. “i promise, i hate you more.”

[yuri-is-online]

(Some more bread crumbs for the Aceyuu birdies) Ace enters Ramshackle, where everyone is already gathered in the guestroom, Yuu's in the middle of talking about something when he walks in. Yuu: And I mean, I guess I feel a little guilty about it, but I'd say the one I miss the most back home is Toby!

Ace bluescreening, internally he's asking: WHO TF IS TOBY?!

Epel: Well you did say he was super affectionate with ya, Yuu

Yuu: Haha, exactly! It would be soooo annoying sometimes I'd enter a room and suddenly he's ontop of me, just whining and licking everywhere until I wrestled him of off me!

Ace shaking: Am I having a stroke? Is this what a stoke feels like? I can't feel my legs and I'm blacking out man.

Yuu, sighing defeated: Aw, but then he'd look at me with those big sad brown eyes and I end up letting him do it all over again.

Deuce, laughing: Who knew you had a weakness for puppydog eyes

Ace: EXCUSE ME?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! THAT'S ALL YOU GOTTA SAY?! YUU! I EXPECTED MORE OF A BACKBONE FROM YOU! WHY'RE YOU LETTING HIM GET AWAY WITH THAT KINDA STUFF?!

Yuu, beweildered, genuinely didn't realise Ace had arrived: Who? You mean let Toby...the boxer?

Ace, momentarily doing the quick maths about his chances against a boxer: I don't care what his job is, you can't be letting guys do stuff like that to you! I don't care how good looking you think they are!

At this point, the boys begin cracking up a little, which only pisses Ace more. Even Yuu looks like their trying so hard not to laugh at him, their eyes a mix of pity and adoration (he hopes that's what he's seeing, at least) before they explain; Toby the boxer, as in the boxer breed of dog. Yuu was talking about their family pet(s) back home. Ace tries to cover for himself, saying how he totally knew that but Yuu isn't even listning to his excuses anymore because now it's Grim throwing a tantrum about how could you miss a mangey mutt when you have the Great Grim sitting on your lap?! But don't worry Ace, the guys will make sure nobody forgets this little outburst.

OR something, after we had to put our dog down a few years ago, my dad's finally in a place where he's looking for a new one so I'm just thinking about dogs now uwu

This ask is old but I hope everything went well with the search, it was my roommate's dog's birthday today so this ask as been on my mind for a hot second. Toby is such a cute name for a boxer it's literally perfect.

Listen, this is all your fault, that's going to be Ace's stance on this. If you weren't such a headache to look after, then he never would have thought that you would let someone do something like that to you and he would have automatically known it was a dog. Really now what do you take him for?

"Jealous." You're smiling as if you find the thought amusing. "It sounded like you were jelous."

"Oh please," you have him dead to rights, but he's not going to say that out loud "only Grim would get fussy about you having a dog." Because really he's not jealous of the dog. If anything he thinks it's cute, so the prefect is an animal person; just like a proper beast tamer, look at you!

No what makes him jealous is the thought he can't give you any of that back no matter how much he wants to. His family doesn't have any pets, but from the way his classmates talk about them he knows that's not a bond you can really just replace. And he wouldn't want to, Ace wants what you have to be unique to the two of you and not a replacement for what came before.

Guess that means he'll have to learn about how to take care of a dog huh. He can do that... just not when the guys are around they're already giving him a hard enough time.

[ridestomars]

ISN'T SHE LOVELY? – S. HARRINGTON

𖥻 summary: the party meets y/n and steve's firstborn. 𖥻 pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader 𖥻 warnings: girl dad!steve. the baby's name is amelia. too much fluff. everyone is alive and well thank you. one dirty dancing reference. bad grammar, italics & not proofread (hey it's me). 2k-ish words. weird divs :/

💭 liv's thoughts: this is based on an idea i had last year (s4 i miss you) and a sequel of sorts to my 'all is well universe' of sunny days that won't ever end – you don't have to read it, but pls do it's v sweet. i hope you like it! <3

DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK IF YOU'RE UNDER SIXTEEN.

The sound of loud chattering could be heard from the end of the hallway, which wasn't surprising, given the number of people that were sharing the limited space of the apartment's living room. The kids – can you even call them that anymore? – were never known for their ability to speak quietly whenever they were together. However, everyone seemed to be in such a good mood that you can even hear the loud sound of Jonathan's laugh. There's a first time for everything, right?

You held the small baby in your arms, walking in slow steps out of her little nursery. Though you tried not to disturb your daughter too much, Amelia already had her big brown eyes open and searching for the source of all that noise. She wasn't used to such noises, being too accustomed to her parents' soft-spoken voices and the entertaining sound of their television – that didn't play anything other than Steve's recordings of Barney episodes. It's only natural that she finds the commotion strange.

As you arrive in the living room, you are greeted by Steve in his typical mom pose, hands on his hips as he watches Michael and Max's every move, anxiously waiting for his girls. From his stance, you can see that he already regrets the idea of inviting everyone over. Taking in the very worried furrow of his eyebrows, you just know that he is going over the most pessimistic thoughts as he looks at the crowded living room.

Appearing with the small baby in your arms, everyone gasped in surprise and amazement, including Steve, who quickly made his way over to you with the goofiest, most endearing smile. His big hands wrap around Amelia's small frame, as he leans down to take her from your arms. He has that sweet look on his face, that brightens even more when he sees the chubbiness of the baby's laughing cheeks. Delicately, like he's carrying the world's most precious jewel (he is!), your husband shows Amy to everyone, with a proud glimmer in his eyes.

"There she is!" he maneuvers her chubby body tenderly, making the baby sit on his arm to face everyone. Her upper body leaned on his chest for support, and she squealed happily when her curious eyes noticed how many people were in their living room. Unhesitating, Steve translates it to everyone, "Millie says hi". 

That was enough to erupt a string of awws, sighs and one high-pitched "she's so adorable!" from Eddie. It was funny to see how a human being so small had everyone wrapped around her tiny little finger. Even Max, who usually had a hard time showing any emotion other than pure annoyance, was goofily smiling at the baby, admiring her brown (and very full) hair and round cheeks. 

The kids were the most eager to get to know Amelia, with Dustin being the spokesman for their wishes, telephoning almost every day since the baby was born to ask when they could meet her. So, it's no surprise that the first person to make grabby hands to hold her next was Henderson himself. "C'mon, Steve, let me hold my goddaughter!" he exclaims as he looks at your girl in absolute awe. 

"Your goddaughter?" Eddie asks, scoffing from his seat at the couch's armrest, next to the boy. "Yeah, right".

"Guys," Robin quickly intervenes, rolling her eyes as she watches the two bickering all over again over the matter. She was seated comfortably in the chair by your living room's small table, alongside Vicky. "Not this again, please?"

That wasn't enough to silence Eddie and Dustin, who began to argue harder about who is supposed to be the baby's godfather. The usual arguments were professed, "You're not old enough!", "but I'm the most mature!", "The baby's lullaby shouldn't be Dio!", "And it shouldn't be Weird Al Yankovic either!"

Given that he couldn't clap, Steve stomped his foot on the ground as he commanded the room's attention to him again, "Hey, hey, hey!" he exclaimed, letting out a satisfied breath when everyone falls silent again. "So, before we let you hold our daughter, I'd like to go over some rules-".

Loud groans erupt from everyone's mouths, and Amelia looks up at her dad, even more curious.

The kids were squished on the living room's small couch, surprisingly fitting in the space where you and Steve had a hard time adjusting in. Eleven was sitting on the side of the couch's armrest, patiently kicking her feet as Mike, Will, and Dustin elbowed each other in a silent fight for more space by her side. At the end of the couch, Max, Lucas and Erica found a way to position themselves without struggling too much. It was so crowded that poor Suzy had to sit on an old puff that Steve had bought in a garage sale when you moved in together ("It'll come in handy one day, you'll see!" Steve exclaimed while he walked off the sale holding the object, victoriously), right at Dustin's feet. On one side of the sofa, Eddie was slouched on the armrest, while Nancy sat on the other, as put-together as ever. Near her, Jonathan leaned against the apartment's wall, chatting with Argyle and Eden.

Amelia was carefully handed to Dustin, who sat in the middle of the couch. You figured it was the best position to have everyone look at her, an democratic decision, but it was still possible to hear Eddie complaining under his breath.

Your daughter got used to Dustin's hold fast, only shifting her tiny body over his arms a couple of times to find her position. When she did, Amy made one of those adorable baby sounds, showing everyone that she was incredibly satisfied now; and it was like the world had stopped for all of them. The only thing that mattered was to witness baby Harrington simply exist. Feasting your eyes on the scene, you hold Steve's waist, hugging him from behind as you rest your face against his arm, not being able to battle the tears that filled your eyes. Your heart was swelling with pride.

"She's pretty," El murmured, her voice sounding even quieter now, as her eyes sparkled at the sight of the little one.

With a trembling voice, Dustin agreed, "She is very pretty". 

"Yeah," Will says as he watches Millie yawn, "She looks just like you, Y/N". 

"Lucky for her," Mike and Max remark in unison, immediately glaring at each other with narrowed eyes. That makes everyone laugh, and baby Amelia opens up her eyes to check it out, opening a toothless grin after. Max, feeling as if her witty remark was stolen by the boy, adds, "It'd be such a shame if she had Steve's dead-fish stare. Thank God she has Y/N's eyes, too". 

At that, your husband gawks at her, letting out an offended gasp. He's so upset that his mouth hangs open, as he looks at her, in complete silence. Catching his incredulity, Max only shrugs, as if to say, "What can I do?".

"Well, at least she has his hair," Lucas observes, mediating the situation, as usual. 

"Thank you, Lucas!" Steve breathes out, feeling he got the justice he deserved. 

The bickering soon faded into a familiar silence, as everyone's attention fell fully on your little girl, who slept peacefully in Dustin's arms, completely ignoring the commotion around her. And that was when the emotional weight of the moment fell on all of you. Glistened eyes watched in tranquility as the baby squirmed every once in a while, as the importance of the scene settled. Amelia's sole existence reassured you of a peace that you hadn't known in years, as if she was the last step in sealing the serene fate that awaited all of you. She was living proof that life is still normal, and despite all the hard times, it isn't all that bad, actually.

Seeing those grown-up kids taking care of a small piece of you and Steve filled your heart with delight, and a different sense of fulfillment that you hadn't known until now. It's so meaningful. 

The nostalgia of seeing their sweet faces intensified when the kids started to argue about who was going to hold Amelia next, and suddenly the apartment was filled with loud chattering all over again. Just like the old times… but, somehow, better.

"Jonathan, look!" Nancy points out to little Amelia scrunching her nose, as if to suggest that he should snap a picture of the baby like that. Now, the kid was laying in Robin's arms, having her full head of hair brushed by Auntie Bobby – the lame nickname was picked by Steve, of course. "What a cute little nose you have, Amy!"

The oldest Wheeler compliments the baby in a high-pitched tone, as if the girl would actually understand. By her side, Jonathan kept taking pictures of the baby, snapping beautiful frames with that domestic feeling that you're growing used to; he promised that he'll develop all of them later. 

"When's her birthday?" Eden asks quietly, as she smooches her face against Argyle's arm, watching the baby in wonder. 

"October thirty-first," Steve answers quickly, not helping himself. Ever since the baby was born, he started to cultivate this staggering need to answer anything Amelia-related, talking about her constantly as if he didn't know how to chat about anything else.

With that spaced-out way of his, like he just had snapped out of a trance by the baby's birth date, Argyle lets out a chuckle, looking down at Millie with… respect, it seemed. "Ooh, Scorpio. Cool, man". 

Then, everyone falls back into silence, just appreciating her small features and lovable babbles. However, Steve seems a little skeptical about how cool it is for his kid to be a Scorpio, and he slowly turns his head to look at you, giving Argyle a bit of a side-eye when he does so. "What did he mean by that? Isn't that, like, bad?" he whispers to you, still watching your friends interact with Amelia from the corner of his eyes.

"No!" you immediately reassure him, telling a little half-truth, "It just means that she's very… sweet". 

Steve seems satisfied by your answer, mainly because he doesn't ask any further questions, and he goes back to keeping his eyes on Robin, making sure that she's holding your kid correctly. It isn't his fault that she has spaghetti arms, alright? 

Eddie soon joins in, though he doesn't look very pleased about it, walking to stand in front of Robin with an exasperated expression on his face. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking down at the girl. You watch the scene unfold with confusion. 

"Well?" he asks, lifting his eyebrows as if he is waiting for something, though he doesn't say what it is. 

Rob looks up, still playing with the baby's hair, pursing her lips while she waits for Eddie to explain why he is interrupting her moment with Amelia. From over her shoulder, Vicky makes funny faces at the small girl, making loud squeals come out of your daughter's mouth.

When he doesn't say anything, Robin asks, "What, Munson?", blinking her eyes vigorously as she tilts her head.

"You're taking too long!" he tells her like that was the only answer possible. "It's been fifteen minutes already, it's my turn!"

After Eddie's little protest (thankfully, he didn't feel the need to get on top of your table this time), everyone took turns holding baby Millie in their arms. You didn't mind it, because you knew that your friends were just very excited to be meeting your daughter for the first time, but you cannot say the same for Steve. He was hating every second of it.

"Y/N, I can't take it," he breathes out once he pulls you to the side, hiding with you in the kitchen, away from prying ears, "They're passing her around like a joint". 

"Relax, Stevie," you try to calm him down, though it's useless. Spying into the living room again, you see that Amelia is laying in Eleven's arms, which warms your chest a little. "El's rocking her to sleep, there's no prob-" 

You quickly stop talking when Mike takes the baby from his girlfriend's grasp, having a hard time managing his long limbs around the kid's small frame. Eyes widening, you look to Steve, wanting to catch his reaction to the scene. 

And he's fuming. 

But just as he is getting ready to stomp his way over to Michael, you hold his arm, keeping him back and away from the kids. "Give them a break," is how you begin to reason with him, "he's getting the hang of it". 

"Well, my daughter shouldn't be their little guinea pig," he huffs back, crossing his arms.

"Don't be like that," you persuade. "You didn't know how to hold her either, and now you're, like, a pro. Right?". 

His hardened expression seems to melt at your compliment – Steve always feels so elated whenever people praise his parenting skills, especially when it comes from you. Your husband's cheeks flush a little, and he looks down, a bit bashful. 

"You mean it?" he asks, playing with the loose seems of his yellow sweater.

"Of course, I mean it," giggling, you get closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you pull him in for a hug. "She's so lucky to have you as her dad. Actually, we're so lucky to have you in our lives". 

He chuckles a little, pleased to still gain such flattery from you. From where you stood, you can clearly see the timid redness that cripples from his neck up to his cheeks, which makes him seem even more adorable in your eyes. But even his striking looks didn't distract you from the intimate feeling of his hand resting over the small of your back, drawing you closer for a sweet peck on the lips. It's funny how still after all this time, Steve was able to make you feel endless electricity and warmth just by the simple touch of his lips. 

Unfortunately for you, the pleasant moment was ruined by someone clearing their throat. Pulling apart from the kiss, you and Steve looked ahead, catching Eddie and Dustin's embarrassed faces after interrupting. 

"Hey, so, hm…", Dustin starts, clearly not knowing how he should start, still very awkward succeeding the scene they had just break in on. 

"We have settled on who should be Amy's godfather, and we swear-", Eddie cuts in, talking at full speed. But before he could get on with their (definitely) deep and sensible reasoning, you hear Steve groaning. "Jesus, guys. Not this again".

LIKES, REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED! steve masterlist | main masterlist | navigation ── hey! wanna talk? leave me a message after the beep. currently accepting requests for steve and eddie. 

𖤐 I AM RESTARTING MY TAGLIST! if you want to be added to my taglist, just click here.

[truths33k3r4]

CHAPTER 5 - The Stain of Guilt

The quiet of the living room was abruptly interrupted by the sound of shifting on the couch.

Mikey’s eyes wrenched tightly shut as he twisted and shuddered into his oldest brother’s shoulder. Squeaked whimpers escaped his lips, as his hands twitched and gripped the air. His plastron rose and fell in between sharp, quiet gasps through his clenched teeth.

“Mghhh….n-no..”

He buried his face deeper under Leo’s chin.

“Ghhhh…don’t…”

His hands unconsciously wrapped around Leo’s waist, striving for safety and comfort. Leo’s still slumbering form slowly leaned further into his shaking embrace. 

“Hhh.. stop.. HhHHh.. Stop…”

Mikey’s heart beat rapidly, pounding from the inside of his plastron. His quiet gasps quickly worsened as he began to frantically choke on each cracking breath.

“...Mgghhh...No…No!...NO!!!!”

Mikey shot up from the cushions of the couch, reaching his arm out to grasp something that wasn’t there. His dazed pupils searched around the room as his hand clasped onto his heaving chest.

Leo’s oldest brother instincts prevailed against his need for sleep as he too leapt to his feet, patting his shell down in a sloppy search for his missing katanas. He nearly slammed into the nearby coffee table in his dazed state.

“-WHHaaaaAAAT?!?! Whaaaaasss wrong?!?!” The oldest brother slurred and shouted as he scrambled to find his bearings, grabbing his phone from the table and holding it as if it were an impromptu weapon over his head. 

Mikey’s ears rang with the fading echoes of Don and Raph’s agonized screams. His heart pounded into his ribs, making him wince and press his trembling hand onto his chest. A pellet of fear fell down into the depths of his stomach, disintegrating the outer casing and unleashing a vile acid into his core. The hand squeezed to his chest shot up to clasp over his mouth as he felt noxious fumes expel a bitter taste into the back of his throat.

Oh crud. 

I cannot throw up in the middle of the living room- this is the ONE ROOM in the lair with a carpet- Dad will KILL ME.

Mikey recalled the time years ago when Klunk, his cat, had coughed up one heck of a hairball on that very carpet. Master Splinter banned her from that room for eternity, and would always chase the tortie out whenever she got close. 

His mind got ripped back from his loving memories of his cherished cat by the clawed grasp of the growing doom climbing its way up.

Swallow. 

J-JUST. SWALLOW!

With a shuddering but stubborn wince, he forced the acid back down his throat. Tears sprang to his eyes by the vile taste and lingering burn in his mouth.

Ughhhh that was so gross.

 I’ll just wash it down with some pizza later.

Both of Mikey’s hands hesitantly lowered from his mouth, planting themselves onto his thighs. His hunched shoulders relaxed, and he took a much-needed deep breath.

Chill. It was just a dream. It was all in your head. You’re fine. Leo’s fine. Don and Raph are-

alive and home.

To distract from the nausea, Mikey watched Leo as the leader blinked the sleep from his eyes and scanned the room for any intruders. His posture quickly tightened into a defensive stance as he gripped his phone with one hand and formed a slightly quaking fist with the other. Finding no enemies in the general vicinity, he began to search through the room, continuing to hold up his phone as if, in the scenario he did find someone, would beat them to death with it.

His search came to an abrupt halt when he turned around to see Mikey.

“W-whoa. Mike, you alright?” 

Leo’s tight fist opened as he reached out his hand to the youngest. Gentleness and concern masked over the tenseness in his eyes, as his voice quieted to a soothing chime in the settling winds of panic. A firm hand landed on Mikey’s knee as the eldest knelt down in front of him to be at the same eye level.

“Mikey. What’s wrong?”

DANG IT. Didn't think of his big brother senses going off...

“I-I’m fine. Everything’s goo-UGH- d.” 

Mikey’s hands shot right back up over his mouth at the feeling of acid creeping up his throat again. He didn’t mean to allow a gag to escape through his last word…When Mikey looked back up to see the eldest’s face, the concern flushed over Leo’s expression had multiplied tenfold.

“-Michelangelo! Are you sick? What’s going on? Do you feel warm? Chills?...” Leo reverted back to ‘Medic Mode’ faster than Mikey could scarf down a pizza, searching over his brother by taking his pulse, craning his neck to spot any injuries, and placing a cool palm on his forehead.

“Hmm no fever- Your color seems a bit greener than normal.. Pulse is a little elevated...” Leo mumbled to himself as he sandwiched the youngest’s face in between his hands. 

“Leo! I’m fiiiiine!” Mikey stated in an exasperated sigh. “I just… woke up weird.”

Leo’s icy irises constricted, peering into Mikey’s soul like they always did. The eldest’s mouth closed and slid into a thin line sitting slanted on his face. His firm palms squeezed into Mikey’s cheeks impelling an actually honest answer. Classic older-brother-speak for ‘You got two seconds to tell me the truth before I beat it out of you’.

Mikey sighed exaggeratedly as he gave in to the icy gaze that had made him crack under pressure for as long as he could remember. He’d never been that great at lying. Especially to his oldest brother who was capable of breaking any poor soul with his patented ‘disappointed mom’ look.

“Ok…fine. I…” Mikey raised his hand and began rubbing at the back of his neck, averting his eyesight from the piercing stare his oldest brother was shooting at him. “...It… it was just a n-nightmare.”

Leo’s laser-pointed gaze fizzled out instantly, leaving nothing but a fallen expression of understanding saturated in remorse. The cool palms surrounding Mikey’s face slowly released their grip, falling and landing onto the fabric of the cushions.

“Oh…I’m…I-I’m sorry.”

Mikey’s aqua eyes searched through the freezing tundra of his brother’s, looking past the dutiful worrying, and finding something far more unrelenting and destructive. The nausea quickly morphed into an unsettled pit of concern for his oldest brother.

He leaned over and placed his quivering hand onto Leo’s shoulder.

“It’s not your fault…I had the nightmare.”

“No…I guess it’s not…” Leo whispered to himself.

…not this time.”

Mikey barely caught the last wisps of Leo’s words.

“You can’t control when these things happen, bro.”

Leo averted his gaze to the floor as his muscles all tensed under Mikey’s palm.

No. Stop it.

Mikey tightened his grip on Leo’s shoulder.

“You didn’t know it would happen.”

“...Not being prepared made it happen.” Leo snarled to himself. His jaw was taut, and his eyes began to shine with moisture. Just as a tear was about to fall, Leo forcefully blinked it away as he shook his head and growled.

STOP IT.

“There was no way you could’ve prepared! Being ready doesn’t always keep things from happening!!” Mikey raised his voice with determination. “You didn’t know that would happen to them. You didn’t KNOW, Leo. You can’t be ready for something that you never expected would ever HAPPEN.”

Mikey grabbed Leo’s shoulders with both his hands, and yanked the oldest close, causing a quick yelp to escape Leo at the rough treatment.

“You are an amazing leader, bro. And you worked your shell off to make it so our brothers could come home. You searched for days! You barely ate.”

Leo’s eyes mimicked saucers as he remained pinned down by Mikey’s increasing grip. His breath hitched in weak gasps as his pupils continued to shrink. 

Mikey let out a steadying breath as he relaxed his grip on his brother’s battered shoulders.

“Why are you trying to redeem yourself when you’ve done nothing wrong?”

Leo’s crystal irises became tainted by the stain of guilt in his heart.

“THEY GOT CAPTURED ON MY WATCH, MIKEY.” Leo shouted, clamping his hands onto Mikey’s arms in a death-like grip. “I let them go to the junkyard! I FAILED TO KEEP THEM SAFE!!”

The sermon on Mikey’s tongue vanished as his breath was knocked out of him by his brother’s fury.

“I am their leader…” Leo’s own breath hitched as he let go of his grip on Mikey’s arms and placed his hand onto Mikey’s face. “...I am your leader. I…h-h-have to keep…you all…safe.” Leo’s voice shattered into millions of fragments as he rubbed his thumb over the tears flowing down Mikey’s eyes. 

“You…are my responsibility, little brother…” Leo whispered in choked attempts to keep from crying. “Sensei chose me to lead you. God chose me to protect you. All of you.

...And I failed.” 

“You didn’t. You didn’t fail, Leo.” Mikey brokenly whispered as he flung himself onto his brother, wrapping his arms around the eldest’s neck as they both fell to the floor with a *thud*.

“You didn’t fail.” Mikey tearfully whimpered as he clutched Leo tighter. “We’re all still here, bro. *hic* W-we’re all h-home.” 

Mikey felt the shudders of Leo’s breath and body as the eldest fought to stay together. Strong arms encompassed Mikey, trying to return the comfort. A weak breath filled Leo’s lungs, slowly being let out in an attempt at a calming sigh.

“..Thanks, little brother.” Leo whispered as he nuzzled his face deeper into the brother’s embrace.

But do you believe it?

“But…d-do you believe me?” Mikey asked in a shaky but hopeful voice.

Everything went silent.

“...No. 

M-maybe. 

I… I don’t know.”

SERIOUSLY?!?!?!

Before Mikey could pull himself together to deliver one HECK of a message to his stagnant brother, Leo spoke up one more time. His words were the most quiet they’ve ever been, and sounded like they were almost painful to speak.

“...P-please pray for me, Mikey…Please pray f-for me.”

Mikey’s eyes widened at his brother’s broken voice. It brought him back to the night Don and Raph were taken. 

The night he watched Leo fall apart right in front of him.

Mikey tried to calm his hiccups and sobs by clearing his throat and taking a quick breath.

God wasn’t the only One Who needed to hear this prayer.

“D-dear Lord.. Please h-help Leo. Um..please help him to n-not blame himse-elf. Help h-him to speak truth in his heart. Help him not to b-believe the lies in his head…

…H-help him to remember how much he is loved.” 

Mikey felt the cool sting of tears prickle the skin on his neck as Leo wept softly over his shoulder.

“..I l-love you, bro. Never forget that. N-never forget it.” Mikey whispered.

“You didn’t fail. You n-need to forgive yourself, bro. You need to-”

“- I can’t.” 

“Yes you can.”

“I can’t!...”

“You c-can do all things through Christ Who strengthens you, right?”

“I…”

“You can!”

“I… I-”

“You need to believe that, L-leo. You need to remember you’re already forgiven. What gives you the r-right to refuse? Who are you to not forgive yourself when Jesus has forgiven you for e-everything??”

Mikey held down a pained yelp as Leo’s embrace squeezed even tighter around his arms and plastron. Drips of the eldest’s long-restrained tears unleashed into thin, remorseful threads flowing down Mikey’s neck.

“God can see everything, right?... S-so.. He saw that you couldn’t have stopped Don and Raph’s capture from happening. He knows it wasn’t your fault.”

Mikey wasn’t positive, but Leo’s grip felt as though it would soon draw blood.

“You n-need to trust Him with that.

 You need to t-trust Him with us.”

Mikey looked up from where he laid, wrapped tightly in his brother’s grasp. His tearful gaze rose to the wooden picture frame hanging on the wall. 

Thank You for pulling us all through. Thank You for bringing us home.

Thank You for giving us all a second chance.

“...T-trust Him, Leo.”

That's it for this chapter! :) This was both a treat and a pain to write- mostly because of how I wanted Leo to react to Mikey's words.

Something you should know about each of the characters in my story- all of the turtle's main weaknesses are mine as well: Leo's pressuring himself, Raph's guilt and anger, Don's responsibility and need to be useful, Lotus' weariness to trust, and Mikey's fear and worry for his family. These are all things that I'm sure a lot of other people deal with as well. And these kinds of weaknesses can dig DEEP. They can be so very harmful.

That's why I wanted this chapter to bring to light how we combat our guilt, anger, worry, and fear. We bring it to the foot of the cross. We bring it to God, and give it to Him. We study His Word, and meditate on the truths to combat the lies of our heart. We need to trust Him. We need to trust Him with all of us. Our good, our bad, our past, present, and future. Nothing is out of reach of His forgiveness.

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. Acknowledge Him in all your ways and He will make straight your paths." ~Proverbs 3:5-6

I pray this chapter touches hearts. I pray it leads others to the light of the cross. I pray it lets them see that they're not alone.

To God be the glory.

~ Melissa

MASTERPOST <- PRIOR CHAPTER NEXT CHAPTER ->

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Second Best 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Lee Bodecker

Summary: The newly-single sheriff sets his eye on an unexpected match.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

‘Really. Ur gonna ignore me.’

The latest in Greta’s endless texts pops up. Thankfully, the shitty reception blocks out most of them and they dump in bunches you can easily swipe away. You ignore her shallow pleas for the carnation badge you’ve been diligently stitching away at.

Your eyes are bleary from squinting and the fatigue tugging at the corners. Another day at the hotel leaves you with barely enough energy to enjoy your time off the clock. You pick away at the pink petals until your head threatens to split from the deep furrow in your brows.

You sigh and pack up your kit, setting it aside and pushing yourself off the floor. Ugh, you’re too young to be this achy. You yawn and stagger out of your room, puttering through the house lazily. It isn’t until you get to the kitchen that you notice the silence.

There’s an unbaked meatloaf on the counter, the oven preheated, and potatoes half-peeled. What the hell? You take a bottle of orange cream soda from the fridge, the special ones your mom gets you, and set off in search of your parents.

Your father’s voice is the crumb trail that leads you to your quarry. Your dad’s on the front porch, hands on the railing as your mother stands at his shoulder. The screen door snaps shut behind you, announcing your arrival abruptly. You follow their gaze to the police cruiser pull across the driveway.

“What’s going on?” You ask as you twist the cap off the bottle.

“We should be asking you,” your mother turns with arms crossed.

“What do you–”

“Taught you better than to steal,” your father hisses as he shifts back to glare at you.

“What are you talking about?” You shake your head.

“Now, now, we ain’t laying any charges…yet,” Bodecker comes up to the steps, previously obscured by the tall post, “just some questions.”

“Questions? About?” You hold the cream soda, untasted. “Mom, dad?”

“Go on,” your dad sneers, “talk to him.”

“Honey,” your mother turns on you, “so disappointed.”

“I didn’t do anything…” you murmur.

“Maybe ya didn’t but I still needa ask ya some stuff,” Bodecker insists, a sneaky wink behind your parents’ back.

You huff. What do you do? You could refuse and tell them how he tried to chase you down in his cruiser but you really don’t think it’s any more believable than it was yesterday. You tramp across the porch and descend the steps, staring at the sheriff.

He beckons you away from the porch. You follow warily. You don’t trust him but you know refusing will only make you look worse. It’s grade school all over again. Your parents always believed the principal over you.

“How ya doin’, darlin’?” He asks as he puts a hand on his hip, kicking out one foot as his stance pushes out his stomach further.

“What are you doing here?”

“Ain’t no way to speak to an officer,” he girds, “ah, ya know, we gotta call from the grocer… says someone snatched some gummy bears on their way out with a cone.”

“Huh?” 

“It’s just candy but it’s still a crime,” he tuts.

“I wouldn’t– I didn’t–” You sputter.

He smirks. Is he lying? Or did Greta swipe something? You wouldn’t put it past either of them.

“I’m not accusin’ you, I just wanted to give you the chance to clear your name,” he taunts.

“You know it wasn’t me,” you utter.

“Do I? I barely know ya,” he scoffs, “and it ain’t for lack of trying.”

“The store has cameras, doesn’t it?” 

“Mm, I thought so but turns out they’re decorative. Deterrent more than functional,” he snickers as he reaches to adjust the bolo tie at his collar, “so all I got to go on is eye witnesses. Supposed I could ask Grety girl.”

The pet name makes your stomach churn. Greta will already be pissed at you for snubbing her, you don’t doubt she’ll happily throw you under the bus, or the police cruiser, for a two dollar bag of candy.

“And if I tell you the truth, that it wasn’t me,” you challenge.

“Your word against hers,” he shrugs, “isn’t it?”

You look at him. His eyes gleam victoriously. He’s got you in a corner. You glance over as your dad sits on the porch, your mother’s shadow behind the screen door.

“What do you want?” You ask as you face him again.

“Just a ride along, darling,” he says, “won’t take long at all.”

You frown, your tongue bitter. You shudder and blow through your lips. What choice do you have?

“I’ll have you back by curfew, don’t you worry,” he chuckles.

“Fine,” you sniff, “fine, I… just need to grab some shoes.”

“Good girl,” he praises and reaches for the bottle in your hand. He takes it and sucks on the neck, downing nearly half of it, “sweet…” he muses, “bet you’re sweeter.”

You scowl and turn away from him. He can have the damn cane soda. You stomp towards the porch as he strides coolly behind you. Your mother opens the door as you approach.

“She’s just gonna come make a statement at the station,” Bodecker explains, “ain’t nothing wrong. Just to clear her name.”

“Oh,” your mother touches her chest daintily.

“We’re not paying no fines for you, girl,” your father growls.

You sidle past your mom and grab your slip-ons. You toss them on the porch and step into them before stomping back to the steps. You don’t say a word. You don’t need the sheriff digging you a bigger hole.

“Shouldn’t be none of that,” Bodecker says, “but she might wanna get better friends.”

You march towards the cruiser defiantly. He’s right. You wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for Greta. But she isn’t your biggest problem. No, he’s got your soda and a smirk on his face.

[the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf]

You're waiting for a train... (7)

Damsel in Distress

Robert Fischer x reader

description - The group goes under and the stakes they find there are more troubling than any of them could have dreamt.

word count - 3.3k (ooooooo she's a biggie)

warnings - guns, car crash, injuries, swearing, Robert being a cutie

a/n - I'm sorry this chapter took a bit longer to come out but I was really stuck with writing it. I could've whipped out a chapter really quickly but I knew it wouldn't have been my best and you loyal readers deserve my best, and I want to give this fic my best! :)

Previous Part Series Master list Master list

If you want to be added to the taglist - here

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

My ticket is clasped firmly in my hand as we wait to board. I had panicked thinking of what to wear this morning. Believe it or not, my experience of first class was lacking. I didn’t want to look out of place so decided upon a sleek stone dress with a matching cardigan and black patent heels.

We were boarding the plane now, deliberately before Fischer. We aimed to get settled in our seats so there was nothing suspicious about the way we were interacting. I found my seat and calmed my shaking bones. God it was so comfortable, shame I wouldn’t get to relish in it. Well technically my body would whilst my mind ran about. I looked behind me seeing Yusuf, Ariadne, Arthur, and Saito. I looked across and found Eames, my dad, and an empty seat. The person who would claim it would be my direct opposite. My hands clenched the arm rest when realisation set in. My heart was racing to the point where I didn’t notice Robert’s entrance. Eames blocked his path in order to get subtle access to his passport which he then slipped to Cobb.

I perked up when I felt my dad gesturing my way. Not knowing what else to do, I rose and approached him. But I had failed to notice the obvious point of contact until I had once again slammed into someone and ended up on my knees. This time my brick wall happened to hold the steely blue eyes I found impossible to forget. Once again, I struggled to find my voice in the face of his gaze.

“Are you okay?” I sharply inhaled, my thoughts being dragged back to our previous meeting. This time the pressure informed my actions and I lowered my head so my locks curtained my distinct features. He offered me his hands to lift me from the surprisingly soft carpet. Even though I couldn’t let my eyes meet his, it didn’t mean I couldn’t let my thumb ever so gently stroke his firm hands. They had the softness of a privileged life but there was a hardness that came from never-ending worry.

“I’m sorry do I know you?” He laughed through his words whilst searching through my feeble disguise. I let my eyes drift to Eames in a plea for help. What was I to do?

“No, I’m sorry I just have one of those faces.” Robert was amused by my answer. The closer he leaned in the more it felt like the world just crumbled around us. I could feel the muscles in my neck praying for me to look up. Just for a moment. I could feel his hands engulfing my own in a protective hold.

Just then, Robert was shoved from behind, allowing me to recollect and escape the potentially risky moment. Cobb continued storing his bag when Robert span around, looking for the one responsible. Cobb made sure his stance alluded to his innocence.

Once, Robert turned back, expecting to find me, he was saddened to see me returned to my seat. He purposefully moved to continue our conversation but was halted by the stewardess who informed him it was time to take his seat.

Robert returned to his seat glumly. As he sat, his sadness could still be felt radiating despite his perfect posture. He unfurled his jacket from his body revealing a crisp white shirt, his trousers being held by suspenders. My eyes betrayed me to drag over his body. I quickly looked away when I risked meeting his eyes and I giggled at the juvenile gesture on my part. But it appeared he had noticed as he met my giggles with his own melodious chuckle. I looked behind Robert to see my father handling his passport. The fasten seat belt sign alighted and the pilots voice informed us of take off. The plane rumbled beneath our feet. A little gasp escaped me as I briefly felt the gravity leave our mass, lifting us into the air. My fingers curled tighter around my seat, an outward sign of my anxiety.

A ping alerted us of the futility of our restraints. My dad rose from his seat and informed Robert that he had dropped his passport. Handing him back the aforementioned item, Cobb then struck up a conversation, I could only assume about his father and his recent passing. I watched out of my peripheral, refusing to give away any indication of the relationship between the seven people joining Robert’s flight. It ended with my father joining Robert in a drink which I assume contained a secret ingredient.

Within seconds, he was out. This was our go sign. Everyone jumped up, attending to their stations as the first-class flight attendant retrieved our case. Before joining the others, I ran over to Robert’s limp form and kneeled down between his legs. My hand glided over his arm and returned to his pulse point. With the other I cupped his face and with soft strokes I allowed my thumb to peel his eye open.

“What are you doing?” Cobb had spotted my unusual position.

“Just making sure he’s okay.” I answered with an innocent tone. I rose, self-conscious of my position, and joined the others in retrieving my own IV.

I returned to my seat and inserted it into my vein. I looked around at their stone cold faces and righted my expression to fit with the crowd. Here we fucking go.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

LAYER ONE: THE CITY

My eyes shot open and the first thing I felt was cold. Lashes of rain pelting down on my shivering form. Interestingly I hadn’t planned an outfit for such weather as such weather was supposed to be impossible. I shivered in my thin blouse and jeans, hugging my black leather jacket tighter in a feeble attempt at retaining heat.

I took in the dream around me, familiarising myself with the skyscrapers so my brain registered the route of the maze. Cars and their horns blared around me, my frame jumping at each new sound. I traipsed further up the street hoping to find my dad or Eames.

Suddenly, a red car pulled up next to me. The door was ripped open, and a loud voice ordered me to get in. We drove further in silence and picked up Yusuf. Unfortunately, with seven of us, room was limited. And I found myself being lifted into Arthur’s lap. I felt him shift under me at the foreign position, but he kept his hands civil, whether out of respect for me or fear of my father, I couldn’t say. But after many days of icing out on his part I couldn’t deny that the contact was comforting.

“You couldn’t have peed before we went under?” Arthur fumed from behind me.

“Sorry.” Yusuf meekly uttered.

“Bit too much free champagne before takeoff, eh, Yusuf?” Eames teased from the front.

“Oh, ha bloody ha.” I smirked over to Yusuf, trying to distract myself with amusement.

“Well we know he’s gonna be looking for a taxi in this weather.” My dad dragged us back to the plan at hand. We pulled off from the curb. As we drove we latched on to a taxi and Cobb rammed us into the back of it. When the driver stormed out of his vehicle, he was met with a gun pointed at his face.

“Walk away.” Cobb threatened. The driver left in a hurry. Saito exited our car but before Arthur left he turned back to where he’d lifted me off his lap. He gave me a light hug before finally leaving. Once the door closed again, I felt something different weighing down my body. I looked to an unusual bump under my jacket and pulled it back to reveal a holster with a loaded pistol. My weapon of choice. I smiled a little looking to Arthur’s retreating form. He’d never leave me vulnerable.

We followed Arthur and Saito a few yards before I saw Robert, out in the rain, flagging them down. Once they stopped and he was about to get in, Eames left our car in favour of disrupting Robert by appearing to steal his taxi. I stayed back, holding my breath. I feared to speak, fearing the quivering tone of my thoughts.

We pulled over once more to pick up a sopping wet Ariadne. She seemed grateful for the shelter.

I glanced down at the crisp white watch I always brought on any heist. It’s always good to track time when time is working against you. If the schedule was right Saito will have initiated the kidnapping part of the scheme. Ariadne turned to speak but before any words could come out, I felt the breath be ripped from my body and out my stomach. The car hurtled to the side and threw its occupants into a whirl.

I looked up, brushing my wet locks away from my eyeline. The sight I saw made my stomach lurch. A freight train. Hurtling straight through any hopes I had of getting home.

As I seemed to regain function, my courage was dashed as bullets pierced the metal. Specially trained projections targeted our two cars. I fumed at the sight of these men, knowing that this kind of dream training never appeared in our research. I watched Arthur manoeuvre the taxi, feeling lucky it was in his hands. But as more shots rained down, I grew determined. I took a crowbar from the boot and smashed out the rear window.

“KEEP US BEHIND THE TAXI!” I yelled over the newly acquired street noise to my Dad who took my meaning and tailed us to the boys, blocking the projections shot. I fetched my pistol out of the holster. I lay across the back seat rests and straightened out my arms in front of me. Pistol was positioned in a perfect line. I closed one eye. My thumb gripped the trigger down and I felt the bullet unfurl from the chamber.

Direct hit.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

We arrived at the abandoned warehouse that would be our stage. The two cars skidded in and as I exited, pistol still in hand, I noticed commotion between the others.

“Get Fischer in the back room now!” I saw them haul Fischer’s body out of the car and drag him away from my sight. I couldn’t help following him with my eyes and I tried to stifle the sigh that escaped once I saw him unharmed. I quickly composed myself and focused on the situation at hand. Saito was hurt.

“Has he been shot? Is he – he dying?” Ariadne stuttered out as Arthur carefully hurled his form out. I could see the blood seeping through his shirt. I noticed how his eyes lapsed back into his skull as if retreating from the pain.

“I don’t know.”

“Jesus christ.” My dad leaned down to him in order to assess the situation.

“Where were you? What happened to you?” Arthur questioned our whereabouts.

“We got hit by a freight strain.” I managed to stutter out through intermittent breaths.

“Why would you put a train crossing in the middle of a downtown intersection?” Arthur spat at Ariadne.

“I didn’t!” she defended.

“Well, where did it come from then?” Arthur would not let this go. I was confused and scared but if we focused on a singular fault, we’d lose sight of the end goal. And that was all that mattered now. Inception was about improvisation and now I had to improvise a runaway train being a totally normal thing to happen.

“Well, let me ask you a question, why the hell were we ambushed?” My dad screamed down at Arthur. “Those were not normal projections! They’d been trained for god’s sake!”

“You’re right.”

“How could he be trained?” Ariadne questioned.

Arthur calmed his breathing. “Fischer’s had an extractor teach his subconscious to defend itself.” I had to give it to Arthur he had an ability to stay calm in the face of unbridled attacks in the field. Which usually came from my dad. “so his subconscious is militarised. It should have shown in the research, I’m sorry.” He chanced a glance to my shaking frame. He surveyed the range of cuts on my arms and face from broken glass. “I’m sorry.” He softly uttered in my direction, but failing to meet my eyes.

“SO WHY THE HELL DIDN’T IT!” My Dad practically screamed at us now.

“Calm down.” Arthur tried to subdue his fury, lest it seep onto the entire team.

“DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN! THAT WAS YOUR JOB GODDAMMIT!” Arthur rose to meet Cobbs intimidating stance. “That was your responsibility!” He shoved his finger into Arthur’s face.  “You were meant to check Fischer’s background thoroughly! We are not prepared for this type of violence!”

“We have dealt with sub-security before.” I gently reminded the men. “We’re just going to have to be a little more careful.”

Dad now directed his anger towards me. “This was not a part of the plan!" He gestured down towards Saito’s writhing frame. "Now he’s dying for god’s sake!”

Eames appeared from the side of us; he brandished a gun in front of Saito’s face. “Put him out of his misery.” He went to press the trigger before he was manhandled out of the way. Dad now had him locked against the car, gripping his offending hand.

“No, no, no don’t do that!” Cobb now furiously stated his opposition as Eames feebly tried to calm him down. Primarily so he’d release him.

“He’s in agony, I’m waking him up.” Eames defended.

“No. It won’t wake him up.” I froze hearing the words escape my dad’s mouth. You die and you wake up. That’s what happens.

“What do you mean he won’t wake up? When we die in a dream, we wake up.” Eames was repeating so he could convince himself.

“Not from this.” Yusuf spoke up. “We’re too heavily sedated to wake up that way.” Our gazes were firmly fixed on Yusuf, in disbelief of what we were hearing. One thought danced around my brain and only Eames had the guts to speak it out.

“Right. So what happens when we die?” He looked on at my dad for the answer he didn’t want.

“We drop into limbo.”

My heart plummeted out of my ribs and lodged down below. I managed to catch my breath but only in shaky little outbursts that were more like spits than any substantial amount of oxygen.

“Are you serious?” Arthur fumed upon the knowledge of this.

“Limbo?” Ariadne questioned fearfully.

“Unconcentrated dream space.”

“Well, what the hell is down there?” She built upon her question.

“Just raw, infinite subconscious.” Arthur’s voice began to build. “Nothing is down there, except for whatever may have been left behind by anyone sharing the dream who’s been trapped there before.” My saddened eyes followed my father, along with Arthur, both knowing that whatever was down there was a product between him…and Mal. “Which in our case, is you.”

“Well, how long could we be stuck there?” Ariadne wanted to claw the words back down in her throat.

“Couldn’t even think about escape before the sedation wears off.” Yusuf spluttered out his answer.

“Well how long Yusuf?” Eames was now irritated and used it to mask his fear.

“Decades – infinite – I don’t know. Ask him. He’s the one who’s been there.” He weakly gestured to my dad who’d begun to pace, avoiding our stares.

No one had looked my way as I hadn’t contributed to the conversation at hand. Dad was directed away from me, running his hands over his face as if he was waking from a deep sleep. He spun back into the group as a loud sob broke from my throat. Tears welled up and spilled out as the reality of the situation sank in. This job had already been dangerous but now I had lost the way out that could always be a crutch to the impending fear of the deep subconscious. Dad rushed to embrace me. He tucked my head into his chest and placed a kiss on my hairline.

“It’s okay, it’s okay sweetheart.” He softly cooed at me. “We’re gonna be okay.” I could no longer feel if the words were directed at me…or him. I feverishly wiped away the salty tears as they dried on my skin. I peeled myself away and looked up with a soft smile. In a silent nod of contentment. But as our eyes met I saw a flicker of regret when he saw me for what I truly was. His child.

The other boys hoisted Saito up and took him away. I knew the deeper we went, the pain would lessen. But my heart still ached for the agony waiting for him and the risk that came along with it.

Once the boys returned, Dad brought us all back to the task at hand. He addressed us explaining the outlines of the kidnapping scenario and how we’d use it to get Fischer to conjure up a safe combination which we would later use to reveal the will.

I had tucked my body into myself, my mind still running on adrenaline. I jumped back in once dad turned towards me, his next statement aimed for me.

“Honey, because of the dire situation and his clear kidnapping training we need to go harder.” I rolled my eyes feeling the direction of the conversation. “Sweetheart, we need to do ‘Damsel in Distress’.” My heart picked up speed.

“What’s that?” Ariadne questioned. It truly brought me back to how she had been dumped into this unknown world with very little knowledge. Like being dropped in a stormy ocean at night with a singular life ring.

“It’s a technique we use where y/n acts as an innocent victim to gain the marks trust.” Arthur filled her in whilst Dad stared at my expression incredulously. “Once she’s struck up a rapport we pretend to torture her. We’ve found this works with certain men, like Robert. Rich pretty boys who jerk off to the idea of being a knight in shining armour.”

I glared at Arthur’s unnecessary add-ons. He at least had the decency to look ashamed at being noticed by myself.

“Thing is I don’t think I can.” I meekly whispered. Closing in on myself further.

“What do you mean?” My dad asked.

“Because he saw me.” I stuttered out.

“That thing on the plane?” My dad’s annoyance was growing. He bent down and held my shoulders. “That wasn’t long enough to having any lasting effect on the memory.” He huffed out.

“There was another time.” My voice barely broke the room’s air and Eames' face fell as he knew what was to follow. My dad halted and I felt anger seep his veins as his hands left my shoulders. “At the office when Eames and I were doing intel. There was a – moment – well he – We talked.”

“You talked? You fucking talked with the subject?” My dad stormed away and whacked his fist into the car. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I don’t know – I just –” I stammered out in the face of my fathers fury. He laughed in disbelief at my nervous shakes.

“Such a fucking child.” He rubbed his hands over his face, unwilling to look at me in this moment.

I scoffed. “I’m only a child when it suits you.” I stated confidently, my previous anxiety dissipating in the face of his insult. We both entered into a stare down, neither willing to retreat. Our silence hung heavy.

“What does it matter.” Eames tried to pacify the two of us. “The further down we go, the fuzzier his recollection becomes.”

“It matters now!” Dad hissed. He withdrew, his disappointment evident in his stance.

“I was wearing glasses!” I shouted unconvinced at my own excuse. He spun to face me.

“It doesn’t matter, his brain now has an image of you with glasses and without so his unconscious mind will meld the two to form an exact image of you.” He left once again, desperate to forget the conversation.

“I can still do this!” I yelled with conviction. He turned back round to deliver a final blow.

“No. You can’t.” my heart clamped as his words settled in. My tears falling was the only feeling I could register in my numb frame.

God, what have I done.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

taglist: @jonsncws @h-l-vlovesvintage @theethy @fashionki11a @felicity1994 @bearchermer @idkyoutellmesmh @mimimarvelingmarvel @butterfly-lies-chase-them-away @neotanpopper @deliriouslybi @folklorde24 @thefandomdiaries07

[angelxd-3303]

*Set after the comic where Luigi saves Bowser*

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

"So..." Mario's voice cut through the awkward silence. He was busy wrapping the wound on his brother's side, still warily eyeing the enormous Koopa who was curled around them.

"So...?" Luigi replied, wincing as Mario tightened the bandage. Bowser, who was dozing off, heard the quiet hiss, and a deep rumble reverberated through his chest. Luigi rested a hand on the Koopa's massive clawed hand, and Bowser relaxed. Mario let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, continuing.

"The, uh...the lightning is new." He stated.

"So is the blonde girlfriend." Luigi deadpanned. Mario flushed.

"She's not my-"

"Save it, bro. I know you better than you think." Luigi smirked at his brother, though it didn't seem to reach his eyes. God, his eyes.

Mario didn't think he'd ever be able to rid his head of the sight of them glowing an unnatural green, with sparks of electricity coursing across his brother's body. The protective rage channeled into his face as he stood between Mario and Bowser. Even with blood steadily trickling down the denim overalls, Luigi had kept a firm stance, glaring at Mario with an almost hateful expression. Mario had no idea what happened while he was learning to navigate this strange world, but it was clear that Luigi had changed.

And Mario didn't know what to feel about it.

"You and the turtle-dragon thing?" Luigi huffed, turning away from his brother.

"His name is Bowser, and he's a Koopa." He retorted.

"Right..." Mario sighed. Peach had ushered him over to Luigi, insisting that he needed to 'talk things out' with him, but all he'd done so far is stumbled through some semblance of a conversation.

"You know I love you, right bro?" He said at last. Luigi nodded, eyes already glassy. Mario tied off the bandage, handing Luigi back his shirt.

"I promised you that I'd keep you safe, and I just... I don't want you to put yourself in danger." Luigi turned to him, the space around his pupils already flashing green.

"When are you gonna learn that I'm an adult, I can take care of myself? Mario, all our lives I've felt like everyone knew me as 'Green Mario, player 2. I was always just an inferior version of you, but here?" His gaze softened as he watched Kamek from further off, healing a few Koopa Troopas. He turned to Bowser, who was curled protectively around him. He rested his hand against the dark green shell, fingers tracing the lines along it.

"Here, I'm me. I'm Luigi. I'm the guy who hangs out with Kamek in the library and the guy who helps watch the Koopalings when their Dad is busy. I'm the guy who shows the cooks how to make pasta, and the maintenance teams how to repair the pipes."

Luigi turned back to Mario.

"I'm me, and that's enough for them. I know you love me, and I love you too. But... I love them, too. I know what I'm doing, and I'm happy here." Mario searched Luigi's face, finding a sense of contentment that he'd never seen before. Mario looked around, at Kamek, at the castle, at Bowser himself.

"Well..." He said finally. "I can't say I understand it, but if you're truly happy here, that's good enough for me. I really do love you bro, and I want you to be happy." Luigi's face broke out in a relieved smile, one that Mario returned.

"Just let me know if this overgrown turtle hurts you, 'cause I'll beat him up for you." Luigi let out a breathless laugh.

"I'm sure you would, bro."

[xoxoskai]

She threw her head back and laughed, hand teasingly slapping his shoulder as she squealed in mirth.

The man in front of her smiled indulgingly, not averted to her obvious flirting in the slightest, if his open stance toward her was any indication. She said something that made the lazy grin on his face tilt further while she ran a finger down the underside of his tie, gaze inviting.

I was counting one breath in, two and in sync with my third one, he'd already politely pushed back, her attempts useless as he rose from where he was lounging against his desk, creating much needed space between him and his secretary. He definitely made a joke to dissipate the tension lingering after his clear rejection for the smile on his secretary's face didn't reach her eyes.

Pushing the sleeve of his shirt back, the man was finally- finally noting what time it was, rounding his desk to pick up his suit jacket which he put on in record time. With some final orders towards his secretary, he dismissed her.

The clear glasstop of his work desk reflected the city lights that hinted on how long it had been since night had fallen. As he picked up his car keys, he paused. Lightly tracing his finger over the surface of his desk, he smiled to himself before exiting his office, the lights automatically switching off behind him.

Lowering my binoculars, I rolled my shoulders and finally stood up from where I'd been camping out for the better half of two hours. Dusting the dirt off my clothes, I made for the emergency stairwell located toward the side of the building, taking the steps two at a time.

Securing the strap on my helmet, I waited. Counting, calculating. When the unmistakable glint of silver sped past the alley I was in, I finally switched the headlights on, my bike silently swinging into gear behind the car I was following.

The roads were relatively empty, which was not a good cover for me but I pushed anyway. There were consequences to the decisions he was about to make in the next few minutes and I intended to see them through.

Consequences that came in the form of an intersection. Right would take him straight home but left? Left would be an interesting choice I'd never expect him to make.

The light on the signal turned green but his car didn't move. Not when the car behind his honked and lowered their window to belt out curses as they overtook him and not as the light turned red again. Stopped behind a parked taxi, not too far behind, I waited for him to make his decision.

When the light turned green and he turned left, I smiled to myself as I finally sped past.

It was not often I made a spectacle of arriving late in style, it was something people expected of my sister. Like my father, I valued time. Mine more so over others.

"Congratulations, darling" My father was speaking into my hair, kissing my head like he hadn't congratulated me atleast 50 times prior to this.

I was late to a party being thrown in my honor.

"Thank you" I managed, trying desperately not to look like I was dismissing him as my eyes roved over his head, searching searching searching.

"You've got to let her go, hon" My mother slid into place next to my father, his arm automatically finding a home in her waist as he pulled her flush against his side "She does not want to be caught here talking to her parents all night"

"Untrue" I held up a finger "On the contrary, I would love to be stuck here talking to only the both of you for the entirety of this party"

"That's my girl" Dad was beaming at me when I caught a flash of blonde appearing by his side.

"Kissass" My sister coughed into her fist, leaning over to kiss our parents on their cheeks in greeting before pulling me into the biggest bear hug she could manage.

"Babysister won another big award, this is the third party we're attending this year alone for it"

"Sweetheart, it's the Noble Prize. It's much bigger than just a big award" Mom gently chastised.

"Eh" My sister lifted a shoulder "We all know she did it because she was bored not because she was-" Emphasizing her point with air quotes, my sister continued "-passionate about it"

Dad looked ready to rise to my defense, my sister cutting him off before he could "I know it's a huge deal, Dad. No one is prouder than I am" As he opened his mouth to retort, she cut him off again "No, not even you"

Before he could get a single word in, sister dearest cleverly maneuvered me into the direction where I could see her friend group was standing together, champagne glasses in hands, heirs of the most elite families of England.

"You should come say hi to everyone"

"Why should I say hi to your friends?" Trying to dig my heels into the carpet, I tried to wrench my arm away.

"Because they're your friends too"

"No. They're my friends through you"

"Semantics. Now, come on" My sister looked about ready to drag me across the length of the grand ballroom where my father had gone out of his way to celebrate his youngest's latest achievement.

"Why are you forcing the poor girl?"

Halting in her tracks, my sister finally dropped my arm as she huffed, turning towards the ones who had interrupted her plan to drag me across the floor "Because otherwise she's gonna spend the entire night glued to Dad's side"

"Unlike us, some people prefer his company. Why so, that remains a mystery" My brother-in-law reached out and interlaced his fingers with my sister's, pulling her to his side. Turning to me, he smiled "To reaching heights greater than this, babysis" He raised his champagne glass toward me as I nodded in thanks.

"Congratulations are in order, I believe"

Mentally preparing myself was not enough, never enough whenever I had to look at him. He appeared next to my brother-in-law, the dimple in his cheek deepening as his gaze finally, finally landed on me, lingering.

"Thank you" I managed, smiling to cover up urges that had no business being here, tonight, at this party.

"Late to your own party?" He questioned, his smile widening as I blinked.

If I wasn't blindsided by the force of having his full attention on me, I would have managed to respond a lot faster.

"Arriving late in style is a family trait" I gestured to my sister who shrugged in agreement.

It was only when his smile tilted into a smirk like he could see straight through my lie, like he knew I was the butterfly caught in his web that it sent my radars blaring. When he leaned close to whisper, it was as if the world had stopped.

"Four, R, E, one, double L, four"

My sister and her husband looked confused but a sinking feeling in my stomach had my throat tightening as color rose in my cheeks and suddenly, I felt faint. The numberplate of my bike.

"You can do better than this, Ariella"

He knew.

Remington Astor knew I was his stalker.

As he turned to leave with Eli, leaving me behind with Ava, my lips finally lifted into a smile for the first time tonight.

It was our little game. It had been for years. And the stakes just became a lot higher.

xxx

[loaksky]

— 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 | ii

the lowdown — the one where you make neteyam's heart skip a beat.

the who — neteyam x fem omatikaya!reader

the word count — 687

the tags & warnings — no warnings or specific tags! just neteyam being emotionally constipated (the usual).

the notes — another thtbu drabble! i think this one fits well as a prequel perhaps? this is one of the first times neteyam starts seeing you in a different light hehe.

part one | masterlist | main fic

You’re mixing the finely pounded dust of healing rose seedlings into a jar of syrupy liquid when you scent him. A moment later, he’s poking his head through the lowered flap of your tent sheepishly.

“Neteyam, hi,” you greet shyly. “How can I help you?” 

When he fully enters the tent, your eyes widen, glazing over each injury notched into his muscular body. You’re on your feet in the blink of an eye, circling his form to assess the damage. His throat bobs as he stands, frozen, unable to meet your worried gaze. 

He hisses when your fingers plant gently on his shoulder, the other hand softly thumbing a particularly jagged wound sliced between his shoulder blades. 

“What happened to you?” you whisper, rounding his rigid stance to stand before him. 

His eyes map your face as you touch his jaw, moving his head from side to side in search of any more damage. 

He doesn’t answer, too immersed in wondering how your features can be so sharp yet gentle and soft. Wondering when your round eyes, framed by thick lashes, had started gleaming like a nebula. He’s only seen you in passing these past few weeks, but recently there’s been talk. Talk of the shy healer who’s beginning to grow into herself, and maybe there’s something new, different, that radiates off of you. But as he gauges every freckle littered across your cheeks, the plump of your bottom lip, he only finds the same little wallflower he’d grown up with.

“Neteyam?” you try again, brushing over a lesion on his chest. 

“I was on look out for Dad with Lo’ak,” he finally says, voice scratchy. “You know how Lo’ak is…” 

Your lip purses microscopically and Neteyam’s mouth twitches up at the furrow in your brow bone. 

He’s almost certain you whisper something along the lines of shithead underneath your breath when you guide him to sit on the mat mirroring your own. 

There’s a line of little containers already set as he lowers himself, one long leg tucked under the other as he gives you his back to face the entrance of the tent. 

His shoulders tense when you start big, slathering something gooey over the laceration that stings the most. 

“Sorry,” you murmur, breath fanning across his skin. 

He shivers, golden eyes wandering around the tent in search of a distraction. Anything that will take his mind off the fact that your small hands are on him right now. Despite you tending to him intermittently for nearly six years, something different has clung to the air his past few visits and it makes him thoroughly unsettled. 

“Still okay?” you ask softly, touch gliding over his injuries like a kiss. 

He chokes on his words the first time around, but manages a croaky, “Yeah.” 

“Good, can you turn so I can work on your front, please?” you say and he nearly melts. 

He turns wordlessly, infinitely more rigid now that he faces you. 

His heart jerks when you lean in closely and he can smell the herbs in your hair. 

Your pointer finger swipes through the mixture and traces the seam of wounded flesh on his stomach, earning a breath that makes his diaphragm cave. 

You are so close and Neteyam’s nervous. He doesn’t know why, it’s only you. Gentle, quiet, and reserved you. The girl who always got left behind, who smelled flowers for fun instead of hunting with the others, who spoke to Ewya like she was your dearest friend. It’s just you.

You’re about to tend to the cut on his chest, but he stops you with a shaky hand, pulling the little jar of salve from you grasp. You’ll feel the hammering of his heart against his brittle ribcage, he knows it. 

“I can do the rest,” he says quickly, flashing you an uneasy smile. “I’ll bring this back.” 

You blink up at him as he climbs to his feet and he feels absolutely weak. 

“But—“ 

“Thank you,” he rushes. 

He doesn’t see the way your face falls as he excuses himself, leaving you by the crackling of the tent’s dying fire. 

neng © 2023

taglist: @nao-cchi , @jkiminpark , @philiasoul