#like. the style. is so on point. that them saying damn jolts me

[indigosabyss]

Oh yeah, that was one of the shows Netflix gave two seasons but called the seasons ‘Parts’ so they could pay the cast less. They did that a lot. Most notably with the ‘Sabrina’ reboot, before they cancelled it, and ‘Riverdale’ had to give it a backdoor series finale.

MOTHERFUCKER

I hate this bc no good nick was an insane concept. And it worked. It was the first sitcom-style show I ever watched, and couldn't fully appreciate the tropes and style of it back then. I'm watching it again. The laughtrack actually adds so much to it. A desperate girl just stole five thousand dollars from her fake foster family to give to an obviously fake lawyer and she is so happy bc she thinks she's going to see her father free soon, and ten seconds later the laugh track is back.

Fuck Netflix. Fuck them fr.

[majeoeje]

Babysitting aftermath

Gojo Satoru x Reader

It doesn't take six eyes to see how you truly see him as a blessing

"I didn't know picking up children from school was a deadly mission for you" Satoru unashamely giggled pointing at you as he patched the scratches and bruises on your face, disinfecting your wounds

"I'm shitty with kids you know that" you hissed when he accidently pressed the cotton bud too harshly on your wounded skin

"Hmmm Megumi and Tsumiki sure does pack a punch.... pft- those kids.." he was smiling again. You hate to admit it but it does always bring peace to your mind, especially after losing someone so dear to him.

Come to think of it... you noticed a different aura coming out of him recently. You noticed how his eyes seem to gleam when he handed out Megumi and Tsumiki's lunch that he prepared so carefully, how he's been annoying you in asking your opinion about different hairstyle for Tsumiki and even practicing often on a wig he bought online thinking you didn't know, how he dress Megumi to "develop a finer style" or so he said, how often he has drag you to find nicer clothes for them and....you especially noticed how a snicker could be heard when he saw you picked up Megumi and Tsumiki who were fast asleep in your arms with bruise and blood adorning your face (they thought you were a kidnapper)

"I can't help but think you might enjoy being a teen dad, dude" you tried to joke but once again, you winced in pain feeling the stinging alcohol on your dried wounds bringing you back to reality, you jolted backwards instinctively

"Stop being ridiculous. And stop being such a baby" he pulls you by the back of your head, closer to his inspection

"It hurts you lab rat looking ass" you say pouting like a child as you covered your wounds from him. You say you hated kids but you act just like one (yeah he doesn't see just how hypocritical that thought process was)

"Maybe it won't hurt as much if you just close those damn eyes and don't move"

You sighed before giving in and closing your eyes

"You're in good hands" he said, empty words of comforting spouted automatically from his mouth

When he sees how your brows furrowed in anticipation, satoru couldn't help but think about some mean things in his head like pushing the cotton bud too harshly to mess with you or to bump your forehead with his. But seeing the way your brows knit together twisted unwelcomed knots in his stomach

"I don't doubt that" you voiced, it was a joke but you had sounded unusually sure. It made him raised his eyebrow at how compliant you're being

Minutes passed as he treated you. It didn't hurt as much as before, you thought. You guessed he was being a lot more considerate which may or may not curled the corner of your lips upwards to a relaxed smile

"Smiling now i see?" He teased

"So what? Am i not allowed to smile now?" You say, still keeping your eyes shut

"No. I hate seeing you happy"

"What a bitch of a fiance"

Well of course you can, but if you're going to look downright gorgeous doing it he might just have to ask your clan to ban you to smile for other people

"Tell me when you're done, Gojo" you say, despite cursing at him, you still have this relaxed look on your face..

"...just...one more spot"

By then, you felt him shift closer to you as you felt something came in contact with your forehead. You could tell was different than the freshly wet cotton that he had treated you with or the bandaid that he carefully placed on your face for the past couple of minutes, it was warm, perhaps even soft? It had only brushed on your skin as if it was a feather. You thought perhaps he used another tool? Though you didn't remember having wounds up to your forehead really

"...It's done"

You opened your eyes, touching your patched face out of curiosity.

Upon closer inspection, satoru's face was unusually red as his eyes drift somewhere else as if anticipating for a reaction?

"Thanks a lot Gojo, you're not bad at this apparently" you nudged him, thinking that was what he was waiting for

But you were dead wrong seeing his face contort in annoyance as he rolled his eyes and clicked his tounge

"What the fuck is up with your attitude, brat." you squinted, poking his cheek, annoyed with his moodswings

"Cih. It's nothing. Get out of my room" he pointed out his door before you walked out flipping him off like you two were 6th graders getting into an argument

But what you didn't know, as soon as you shut the door close he had burried his head on his pillow, screaming like a teenage girl out of frustration. God. Could you be any more dense?!? It feels as if a vein could pop on his forehead as his face burn in embarassement and frustration of what he tried to pull

(A/N:harmless fluff drabble with gojo‼️‼️ )

[youngpettyqueen]

Hi! I'm back and saw the bad injury prompts you reblogged. 👀 Could you please do "I can't feel my legs" with Julian saying it? ❤️

thank you for your patience!! its been. a wild week. but I finally have the energy to sit and get this written out. ive been pondering it all week hehe

I went through a couple ideas before I settled on doing a missing scene style of thing set in The Siege of AR-558. this is set after battle, but before the conversation we see between Sisko and Worf right at the very end. ive talked about it on this blog before but it makes me absolutely feral that Julian gets shot and just. gets up and keeps going. forever chewing on that but I digress ill save my insane rambling for the tags

I hope you enjoy! I like writing Julian and Worf a lot, and I hope you enjoy reading them <3

Doctor Bashir can be a very difficult man to find.

Worf isn't surprised. This is a battlefield in its aftermath, naturally a doctor would be difficult to locate, especially one as quick and efficient as Julian. He stops to ask a few people who look to have been treated, and they all give generally the same answer; that they just saw him, and he went over that way.

Worf follows the general direction of all the pointing, and he finds himself in a tunnel leading to another part of the caverns. He starts to walk through, figuring he'll find the elusive doctor on the other side, where other wounded surely lie.

Instead he damn near trips over him.

Worf thinks it's a rock, or a dropped weapon, at first. But then, as he's taking a second to regain his balance, he hears a low, quiet groan. He looks down, expecting to find a wounded officer, and that's exactly what he finds.

Except the wounded officer is none other than Doctor Bashir.

Julian is half-concealed by the shadows, tucked right up against the tunnel wall and lying flat on his stomach. One arm is outstretched, like he was reaching for the other side, while he has his face buried in the crook of the other elbow. Worf had tripped over one of his legs, which is bent at the knee, like he'd fallen mid-step.

Worf drops to a crouch beside him. "Doctor Bashir," He says, but gets no response, "Doctor, can you hear me?" He places a firm hand on the doctor's shoulder, in case the touch might rouse him.

Julian flinches under his hand. Then he stirs, and he lifts his head, trembling with the effort of it. "Worf...?" He looks up at him, eyes squinted in the dark.

"Yes, Doctor," Worf replies, "What happened? Are you injured?" He questions.

Julian's head drops back against his arm, but he keeps it turned so that he's still facing Worf. "'Fraid so," He grimaces, "I was... I was shot. My side..." He manages to give a weak, indicative nod.

Worf nods. "I will assist you," He tells him. He gets a hold of Julian and, carefully, he maneuvers him onto his back. Julian grabs onto his arm, and there's a surprising strength to his grip. A strangled sound of pain escapes him, grinding out through tightly-clenched teeth. Worf can feel him trembling still, so he pulls him a bit closer, supports the doctor's weight against his own body, "Try to hold still. I must see the wound."

Julian nods wordlessly. He faces the pain well. It's difficult to make out, in the dark, but there's just enough light from the tunnel's exit for Worf to be able to see the large hole burnt away from Julian's uniform jacket. It's burnt right through, both jacket and undershirt gone, leaving raw, angry skin exposed to the dusty air of these caverns. He can see the glisten of blood, can feel it saturating the jacket as he places a bracing hand by the wound.

It's bleeding badly. Julian will have already lost a lot of blood, he needs to slow it until he can get him to one of the medical officers. He shifts his hand over and presses it firmly against the wound, and he keeps a firm grip on the doctor as his entire body jolts with the action. Julian continues to face the pain bravely, turning his face into Worf's chest and screaming against his teeth.

There's a part of him that threatens to get very, very angry at seeing Julian wounded. There's no honour in harming a healer, even some of the most bloodthirsty Klingons he's known would spit at the idea. It's an instinctual reaction, one he has to bite back. He has to remind himself that Julian was here not only as a doctor, but also as an officer. He was wounded as a warrior on the battlefield.

"I don't- I don't think I like that look, Commander." Julian wheezes, his weak voice drawing Worf back out of his thoughts. He's managing a small smile, teasing and boyish even in agony, but it's clear that he's struggling.

"The wound is severe," Worf replies. He doesn't see the point in trying to soften that information, he's sure that Julian, as a doctor, is all too aware of his current condition, "Why did you not seek medical assistance?" He asks.

"Didn't realize it was... this bad," Julian rasps, "My brain does this... funny thing, where I'll see people who need me, and... and nothing else really matters," He rests his head against Worf's chest, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. He looks nauseous, his brow pinched tight and sweat glistening on his forehead, "I hardly felt it till I collapsed." He manages to finish.

"I fail to see how that is funny," Worf gruffs, "Your dedication to your patients is admirable, Doctor. But now, it is you who requires assistance. Are you able to stand?" He asks.

Julian shakes his head. "No, I... I can't," He replies honestly, "I'm... afraid I can't feel my legs, Commander." He admits.

"Then you will be carried," Worf adjusts his hold, gets an arm under Julian's knees and pulls him against his chest. He pushes himself up with ease, the doctor's weight inconsequential as he cradles him securely, "Hold on, Doctor." He instructs.

Julian's arms come up to wrap around his neck. His head drops against Worf's shoulder, his face half-buried in his neck. He can feel Julian's shallow, quick breathing against his skin. He doesn't have time to waste.

Worf sets off, ducking out of the tunnel and moving into the next open cavern. With the injured doctor in his arms, he makes a brisk pace as he seeks out the first medical officer he can find.

[fionacle]

In English class class last year I had a ‘Saving Holden Essay’ (short story) where I had to write Holden from The Catcher in the Rye meeting me and I help him work through stuff. Throughout the book I’d felt a strong connection to Holden, plus I was excited to try out the informal writing style, so it’s easily one of my favorite writing projects I’ve ever done. Decided to turn it into a Y/N thing for you guys because maybe others like him too, and even though I’m not romantically attracted to him, apparently a lot of people at my school have been, so if you interpret it that way I can offer some food to a crush that I assume doesn’t get too much content (I’ll google after I post this). Unfortunately me being (outwardly anyway) a girl is important to how Holden acts towards the reader (originally me), so it’s not gender-neutral.

In the first draft I had me keep refusing to accept his help because stranger danger, but then his continued insistence made him too much of a creep and 1. That sucks he deserves better and no one wants to read that and 2. How the hell is that supposed to transition into me helping him?? So help accepted.

Anyway, story under the cut :) (and yes the first couple sentences are taken straight from the book)

I didn’t know where the hell to go. I didn’t want to go to another hotel and spend all Phoebe’s dough. So finally all I did was I walked over to Lexington and took the subway down to Grand Central. My bags were there and all, and I figured I’d sleep in that crazy waiting room where all the benches are. And I woulda done it too. But on the way, I wasn’t looking where I was going, and I walked right into this girl.

We didn’t fall on top of each other or anything, like they do in the movies. Where the guy lands on the girl with his hands next to her shoulders. And it takes them a second to realize what happened. But then they see they’re in this real perverted position, and they get up all flustered and embarrassed. No, it was nothing like that. The girl just kinda dropped what she was holding on the floor, and started saying she was sorry over and over while she picked up her things. I told her it was fine, and figured I outta help her out, so I bent over and started picking them up too. I looked at her and noticed she was pretty pale, and had scabs and bumps all over her damn face, though not as bad as Ackley’s. Her hair was short and brown, and kinda messy, but she didn’t look half bad. I half expected we’d grab a book or something at the same time and accidentally touch hands, then she’d look away all shy, and I’d take her out to coffee to apologize. The goddamn movies, they’ll ruin you.

All the stuff had been picked up, so we stood, and she looked at me, probably expecting me to hand her her things. But I felt weird letting a girl carry all this on her own. “Let me carry it for you, where you heading?” You could tell by the look on her face that she wanted to accept the help, but didn’t want to seem rude. That killed me. “Oh, no. It’s no problem, really. I can handle it myself.” “I insist. Come on, where you heading?” I took a step closer, and she looked like was getting a little uncomfortable, but I didn’t really feel like stepping away. “Where you heading?” “Just going home after visiting a friend. Her apartment isn’t too far from here.” “I’ll come with you, got nothing else to do.” “Well, I mean, if you don’t mind.” She killed me, she really did.

We started walking down the road away from the waiting room, and there was a while where neither of us talked. I think we both wanted to say something, but there’s a point when you’ve said nothing for so long that breaking the silence starts to feel like a crime. But then I thought I might ask her about the ducks, and that felt like a reasonable enough excuse for breaking the law. No one else seemed to know, but she was new, so it was possible she’d have an answer. “You know the ducks at the pond?” She sort of jolted when I said that, and she gasped as if I’d just told her her mom died. Guess she wasn’t expecting me to talk. “S…sorry, which pond?” “The one in Central Park.” “Um, yeah, I guess. Why?” “Where do they go? During the winter, I mean.” “Oh, I’ve never really thought about it before.” “Well, I think more people ought to. Not enough people are worried about where the ducks go.” She smiled at that, a real big genuine smile. I wasn’t really sure why, you could tell I was really sort of frustrated. “I think they migrate, like butterflies.” “What the hell do butterflies got to do with it?” “Well, they migrate too. Have you ever seen pictures of monarch butterflies huddled together on trees?” “No, because I’m not talking about the damn butterflies! Everyone’s always bringing up other things, I’m not asking about the butterflies or the fish, I’m talking about the ducks!” Her smile fell, and she looked away for a second. And I almost felt bad that I’d sort of yelled at her. It wasn’t that I was mad at her or anything, really, just that I was tired of people avoiding the question.

She still didn’t look at me, but she said something. It was so quiet I barely even noticed she was talking until she was half way through the damn sentence. “I think they fly south, where it’s warmer, and then they come back when spring comes.” I stayed quiet.

She looked at her feet. “Why don’t you just look it up in a book? You banned from the library or something?” “No, I’m not banned from the damn library! I… just don’t really want to.” “I get it. I think.” “You do?” I tilted my head like a confused puppy. “Yeah, like… maybe you can just never remember to go, maybe you’re scared of the answer, maybe you’re scared of the search being over, or maybe all three. It sucks to lose something you can ask people about, and stuff isn’t as fun when you just give it a definitive answer. It just loses something. Sorry, I don’t know if that makes sense.” “No, it… it makes a lot of sense, actually.” She turned to face me again and we just silently smiled at each other, it felt nice.

“Oh, this is my apartment building. I can take everything from here.” “I can help you bring it in.” “No, I think I’d prefer to do it myself, thank you.” “I was thinking we could chat some more.” “Maybe another time, bud.” I put what I was holding into her arms and she adjusted her grip around the pile to make sure she wouldn’t drop anything.

She started to walk off, but then quickly spun back around looking real shocked and embarrassed. “Oh, I just realized I forgot to ask your name!”

“Oh, I’m-”

I thought for a moment. I wasn’t really in the mood to lie about my name, to tell you the truth.

“Holden Caulfield.”

She smiled, and sort of chuckled a bit.

“(Y/N) (L/N).”

[aritamargarita]

ATTITUDE || 016

*makes my return, all the things she said plays in the background, holds up women’s championship* HEYYY GUYS.

AGHGHGHG. that’s basically how i feel about this chapter. there’s a lot going on but at the same time everything is awesome. decided to just put attitude out first smh im already late asf on everything WHY NOT⁉️ i hate tumblr. sorry if this seems short i was scared to even post this bruh

now ik u guys are wondering. some superstars randomly disappeared (coughEDGEcough) but they’ll be back soon lmao..including more superstar appearances like nwo, eddie, all that jazz.

You feel okay.

Like you’re hanging off the edge of a cliff. There is no way to get back up. Your only choice is to fall down.

You’re laying on the floor of the locker room. Nothing could ever replicate the feeling of Raven’s touch. No, nothing could ever replicate his presence.

You’re not even sure if you have the energy to go out for any matches anymore.

The sound of banging at your door doesn’t make you jolt even a little bit. Austin’s voice behind it doesn’t make you move a muscle either.

“Open this damn door!”

You still make no moves, instead tilting your head upward. The room is upside down. But the feeling of blood rushing towards your head feels fantastic.

After a few more minutes of banging, the door eventually comes off its hinges.

Wow. He actually took the door down this time!

You smile seeing not only Austin, but Debra coming into the room. There’s a cameraman right behind them, so you figure you have to play things up a bit.

“The hell’s gotten into ya’?!” He yells. There’s a scowl on his face but it only makes you laugh. “I don’t think this shit is funny...”

“[Name], I’m very concerned about you…” Debra trails off nervously. “You were rude to me earlier and Doctor Smiley said your session went terribly.”

Austin decides to yank you up off of the floor. All you have is a goofy smile on your face. He narrows his eyes at you. “Ya’ got anything to say?”

“I’ve never, ever, felt so alive.” You answer, voice calm and collected. “I think Doctor Smiley’s classes were enlightening. However…I’m sorry, Debra. If we’re being honest, Austin’s the one who started it. It was such a cruel, cruel attack on Raven, who was only participating in the exercise. I feel like Raven did no wrong. I feel like he does no wrong whatsoever.”

For a moment, the other two look at you in confusion, before brushing it off. Debra looks over at Austin and crosses her arms. “Do you have anything to say about this?”

Austin scoffed. “Listen, the guy was gettin’ a little too handsy. You would’ve done somethin’ too.” He doesn’t exactly apologize. “That ain’t the point. Chris Jericho’s my opponent tonight and ya need to get it together before we lose again. Do whatever ya’ can to help me out.”

You nod, the liveliness slowly coming back. “Of course! We won’t lose. There’s no way we’d lose.” For a moment, you feel like you’re back to your mood from earlier tonight. Just full of happiness and excitement to be here.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine. Totally don’t know what got into me. Listen, I’ll distract the referee or something!”

Debra seems fine with your apology, walking over to you with a frown. “Sweetie, let me fix you up a bit..” She tries to fluff your hair with her fingers, then dusts off your shirt a bit. If only she had an iron... “There’s dark circles under your eyes! Did you get any sleep last night?”

You thought you did. You wonder if earlier might’ve………….

“And pull your pants up, you look like Lita.” She points out.

“I’d look cute with Lita’s style though.” You sigh, pulling them up.

“The hell you would.” Austin cuts in. “I’m gonna get changed. Ya’ have 5 minutes to meet me in gorilla. I’m leavin’ if you’re not there.”

“Okay.” You give a thumbs up as he exits the now doorless room.

Debra gave you a small smile. “You can tell me anything, you know.” She says. “It doesn’t make sense for you to be so…you know. What happened after I saw you?”

“I’m just nervous.” You quickly say. “I uh, I keep hearing that I’m going to get a match at Vengeance. I’m not sure how to feel.”

“I see. Don’t let it bother you too much. I’m sure you’ll give whoever you’re going against what’s coming to them. I don’t want you walking around like you don’t have any sense.” Debra comes over one more time to make sure you look presentable.

“I’m frustrated with you two…but all I can ask is that you two try your best.”

Just as she asked, you’ll do your very best.

RAW IS WAR // 8:49 PM

The sound of glass shattering was your cue. You follow right behind Austin, waving to the crowd as you go. You probably weren’t supposed to, but oh well.

Austin quickly gets into the ring and starts attacking Jericho with strikes. You want to hop on the ring apron for a closer look, but instead you stay outside of the ring. Austin irish-whips Jericho into the ropes but the latter clambers out to get some air.

Not for long though. You turn him around and slap him, reminiscent of a couple nights ago. Austin comes out and shoves Jericho into the corner of the steel steps.

He gives him a few chops on the chest and turns towards you. “Hit ‘em!”

You’d be more than happy to! You lick your hand before tearing it back and slapping him across the chest as hard as you could. The crowd sitting nearby winces at the loud sound.

You shake your hand out with a smile and smack him one more time before he falls to the ground in pain.

Austin takes back the reins, pulling Jericho up and slamming him into the guardrail.

That was enlivening! All you can do is laugh. Bringing him pain was the highlight of your night. You hope there’s more opportunities to rough him up.

Back into the ring they go. You’re on the outside, watching ever so carefully. The more you watch them go, the more you take notes. You think Austin’s wrestling style is a bit too hard hitting for you, but it’s still good to learn.

Austin attempts to hit Jericho with a stunner, but the latter reverses and tries hitting him with his own stunner. It fails, and Austin takes him down with a double leg sweep.

You jump for joy as Austin starts twisting him over into the Walls of Jericho. This is fantastic! Your partner has been on fire all night! He didn’t even need your help right now.

But alas, the moment is short lived as Jericho reaches over to the ropes, grabbing it and causing the referee to make Austin drop the hold.

Jericho was holding onto that bottom rope for dear life, so you come over and smack his hands. “Let go of the ropes!”

Austin stomps on his back and you take a step away. You could hear someone from the crowd call your name, so you turn on your heel to face them.

The girl from the crowd seems star struck, but nervously waves at you. You wave back. It wasn’t over, the girl ushers you to come closer.

She raises her voice so you can hear her. “D-Do you think you’ll get the Women’s Championship?”

That was a good question.

“I don’t know! You think I should go for it?” You have a big smile on your face, one that makes her feel more relaxed. “What’s wrong with Trish and the Championship?”

“I don’t really like Trish….” She admits. “I think you’re just the coolest! You’re awesome! Oh, hey, do you have a crush on Jeff Hardy?!”

It’s the nicest thing you’ve heard all night from a fan. “Thank you!” You exclaim. “Listen, Trish is a good champion though!” You’re not sure how to reply to the Jeff comment, after all, Raven is your one and only! “Mmm, I’m not sure.”

Jericho is getting the better of Austin in the ring. This time, he tries pulling him into the Walls of Jericho as revenge for earlier.

Turning your attention back to the ring, you felt scared. You hope he doesn’t tap out. Just incase, you hop onto the ring apron in an attempt to get the referee’s attention.

“Hey!” You call, giving a wave. “Over here!” You make a fuss long enough for Austin to crawl over to the ropes and grab it. Once you notice he’s got it, you jump off. The referee yells at Jericho to release his hold.

He does, dragging Austin to the center of the ring and tries to put him in the submission again. Luckily, Austin kicks him right in his face.

Jericho staggers for a moment, but gives the finger to Austin as he’s still down on the mat. He instead runs over to the ropes and jumps off to try and give him a moonsault, but Austin rolls out of the way and Jericho lands on his feet.

Austin recovers much to your relief, and before you knew it, he hits the stunner on Jericho. Just like that, you hear the crowd scream “1, 2, 3!”

The match was over!

You’re almost brought to tears. Even commentary refers to this win as something you’ve both needed. You roll into the ring, excitedly jumping up and down before holding your hands up.

Austin hesitates for a minute, unsure with what you were doing at first, but gives you a high five with both hands once he realizes. He then walks over to the side and catches two beers that were thrown at him.

He cracks one open and tosses another to you. You crack it open with ease. Now, you weren’t a big beer drinker, but the swig you took was the sweet taste of victory.

This is a night that we all deserve!

RAW IS WAR // 9:01 PM

“That was awesome!” You yell, turning over to Austin. The camera pans over to you. “You won! No, we really won! I mean, when you hit that stunner, it was like BAM! Jericho didn’t even know what was coming to him! He tried it, then you got back at him! Like ugh!!!!”

Austin gives you a smile, a genuine one. He finishes his last bit of beer. “Hell yeah we did.”

Debra claps her hands for you two. “You two were wonderful tonight. Congratulations!”

“I say we go to McDonald’s!” You recommend. “In celebration! I can drive!” As you head down the hallway, you stop suddenly stop in your tracks.

“Ohhh my god.” You mutter, hitting Austin’s shoulder. “OHH MY GOD!!”

“What’s the problem??” He yanked away from you, a confused look on his face.

“Look! Down the hallway!!” You point. “That’s Bret fucking Hart!” You were completely starstruck, hell, completely in awe. The crowd too, popping for the mention of his name. “Oh my god.” You wanted an autograph. You wanted an autograph bad. Really bad.

Austin doesn’t even know what to say at first. For the first time in a while, he’s speechless. All he can do is laugh. “Ya’ serious?”

Debra gasps. “Oh my! We are in Canada after all, no wonder he’s hanging around. I can’t remember the last time I saw him…”

You’re still freaking out. “Holy shit. I think going to faint. It’s really him!”

The Rattlesnake realizes that you are indeed serious. He points a finger towards the Hitman. “You’re a fan of him? …Debra, you seein’ this shit?”

Debra hits his shoulder lightly. “Let the girl have this. He’s a good wrestler! Good man, too.” Austin crosses his arms and she threw her hands up in defense. “What? I’m just saying.”

He scoffed. “I’m your husband, god damnit.”

“I’ve seen a lot of your matches with him! In Your House was my favorite one!” You hoped you looked good, instinctively straightening out your shirt. It’s safe to say you’ve always had a TINY crush on Bret Hart.

Just a tiny one. He’s very inspiring!

“I really want to go say hi.” You say.

“Go ahead.” Debra lightly pushes you. “We’ll wait for you right here.”

Austin looks like he’s going through all five stages of grief in one fell swoop. “I need to take a blood pressure test. Debra, where’s the cuff link?”

The woman rolls her eyes at him, but you take a deep breath and head towards Bret. You need to hype yourself up. Make it seem like you’re really cool. You take a deep breath as the camera follows you over to his spot.

“Hi…!” You wave.

He turns around curiously, giving you a warm smile at the sight of you. You’re feeling lightheaded, good god. “Hey, how are you? Do I know you?”

“I’m greood! I mean, I’m great, good!” You inwardly curse at yourself for mushing your words together. You were nervous as hell. “No, you don’t know me. I’m [Name], a WWF wrestler. But I know you! You’re Bret Hart, and I’m a really big fan.”

“Really now?” He grins. “You’re really a fan? “Now that I think about it, I may have saw one of your matches as I was watching Raw. If you’re who I think you are, you’ve got some spunk to you.”

“Thanks! Stone Cold Steve Austin said the same thing to me, actually.” You say. “I’m like, his supporter or something. I’m just here.”

“He’s right.” He confirmed. “I think you’re a star in the making. You keep up the good work, you’ll win a title in no time.”

“I really want to. Gonna do the best I can with what I got for now.” It makes you think back to what that fan said. If you went for a title, you’d sure that she’d be elated. “I totally didn’t know you were going to be here! I-I mean I know we’re in Canada but oh my god. Are you wrestling tonight?”

“Don’t plan to. Maybe a promo or two.” Bret says. “I’m taking a bit of a break from wrestling, waiting for the right time to lace up my boots again.”

“Totally understandable.”

It’s quiet between you two before he puts a hand in his pocket, sliding out a pink pair of glasses. “Hey, I don’t suppose a big fan of mine would enjoy a souvenir?”

Was he going to give those glasses to you??? You look at him eagerly. Fuck yes, you’d enjoy a souvenir! “I don’t have a pen on me though.” You say. Even if he couldn’t sign it, you were just thrilled to even get something from him.

“That’s fine. If anyone asks, you can just tell them talk to me.” He reassured, sliding them on your face.

The clicking of heels makes you look over with a smile. Debra’s rushing over to you two with a disposable camera. “How cute! C’mon, let me get a picture. For the memories!”

“Can I get a hug?” You blurt out.

Bret nods. “Bring it in.” He puts his arms around you and you feel like you’ve just accomplished all your goals. That’s it.

….You’re keeping that picture for the rest of your life.

RAW IS WAR // 9:05 PM

“Looking sharp!”

Your compliment makes RVD turn around, shooting you finger guns at the same time. He had his Hardcore Championship around his arms, completely drenched in sweat from his match.

You were going to give him a hug, but he was a little too sweaty for your taste. “You need a towel?”

“Two, probably.” He nods. There are quite a few sitting on a makeup vanity nearby, so you grab two and hand it over as requested.

Seeing him with one title confused you. “You won? Where’s that European title?”

“Yup. They changed the rules a little…Christian didn’t lose his title. I didn’t lose mine either.”

“That’s confusing.” You didn’t get why. Well, if they didn’t want to change it, they didn’t want to change it, oh well. “Whatever. Congratulations!” You cheer.

Again, you’d hug him, but you didn’t feel like changing at the moment. He’s still kinda sweaty!

“Thanks.” He holds his hand up for a high five, and you’re willing to give him one. Woohoo! Hopefully you’d be able to talk to him later. If there’s any tag team match, you’d definitely want him as your partner again.

A couple of minutes later, you find yourself back in gorilla awaiting Trish and The Rock. You were a little earlier than expected, so the Women’s Champion arriving first wasn’t a shocker.

“[Name], you’re early!” Trish chimes. “I’m glad you’re here though. I’m really scared. I hope we can win tonight.”

“I told you, I’ll be here to help! I’ll make it end in disqualification if I have to.” You reassure, taking her hand into yours. “Mr. McMahon is going to get what’s coming to him, I promise. I think his little club is disgusting and he needs a taste of his own medicine……Trish?”

“Yeah?”

“…I’m gonna kick our boss in the nuts.”

Trish couldn’t even respond before she fell into a fit of laughter. “No! Don’t do that. Actually, you’re more than welcome to. You wouldn’t believe the things he’s made me do. Bark like a dog…embarrassed me by dumping guck onto me with Stephanie and William Regal…”

“Don’t even get me started on Stephanie.” You groan. “She’s a witch.” You were lucky enough to have not seen her after your match. “Maybe Chris Jericho was onto something. I mean, bottom feeding trashbag hoe….what a choice of words.”

“You know, you two would be an unstoppable duo if you two became friends.” Trish points out. “I think it’d really work out!”

“Over my dead body. I’m not becoming friends with that egotistic self-absorbed asshole.” You roll your eyes, letting go of her hand.

Trish relents, letting out a sharp breath of air. “..Oookay! Maybe you guys should have a promo going back and forth….”

“You ladies look like you’re having a good time.”

The voice of The Rock makes you look over. You easily give a thumbs up. “Absolutely! Hello, Rocky!”

“….” He doesn’t know how to feel about your little nickname, but goes with it anyway. “Hey. Heard you were on our side tonight. The Rock appreciates that.”

It’s kinda weird to hear him talk in third person, but you roll with it too.

“Of course! I was just telling Trish that Mr. McMahon was gonna get what’s coming to him. You’re gonna win!”

And if luck is on your side, tonight would still be your night.

YAHHH READER GETTIN IN THE MIX! IF THIS POSTED.. WOOHOO!!! split it up again im sorry but this really was just a test run, sorry if it’s a little all over the place grrr.

anyone down for a battle of words with jericho? im sorry but reader would eat him up so quickly

to make it better. i give you more raven in the next bit. and this time i will elaborate on why triple h gave reader lingerie LMAO

[pb-dot]

Film Friday: [REC]

After talking about Paranorman last week I feel a hankering for some more in the world of the spooky, and so I figured it was time to talk about one of my favorite scary movies, certainly the one that has the best track record at scaring the utter bejeezus out of me, the Spanish found footage film [REC]

TV Journalist Angela Vidal and her trusty cameraman Pablo are filming a Human Interest story about the life of firemen on night watch when the emergency services are called to assist an old woman who has fallen in her home. Hoping for a slight touch of action to the otherwise painfully boring footage, Angela and Pablo tag along to the apartment complex where the rest of the movie takes place. Unfortunately for them, by the time they get there the old woman is dead, the exit is sealed by the government shortly after their arrival, and to make it all worse said old woman refuses to actually stay dead.

Now, Found Footage is an oft-maligned subgenre, and I will concede that many of its criticisms are valid. Shaky camera and characters too scared and cinema verite-incoherent to explain what the hell is going on can wallpaper over subpar effects and incoherent writing and the by now beyond cliche ending of whatever beastie is out hunting amateur filmmakers or journalists lunging at the cameraman isn't as satisfying as the first five or so times we saw that. Still. [REC] makes it work, and I think there are a couple of reasons for it.

First of all, the main characters are professionals. Pablo wields a heavier, more stable camera than the handheld camcorders that are often the POV in these things, and his skills and experience compels him to keep striving to keep a more or less readable picture until shit has well and truly hit the fan. Similarly, Angela's journalistic instincts wake up in a big way under the unusual threat and the mad scramble to get to safety as the firefighters and tenants fall to the intensely aggressive rabies-like disease that makes them turn on their fellows. Her ongoing narration and commentary on their situation also help bridge gaps in the narrative and provide a small, but important jolt of characterization. Her attitude also does a good job of justifying the movie going on. When all is said and done, she is a journalist, and what's going on with her may be terrifying, but it is also capital N-News. As she herself says close to the movie's final crisis point "We have to tape everything, Pablo, for fuck's sake."

Perhaps the best part about [REC] is how perfect the movie's sense of timing is and how it capitalizes on the verisimilitude offered by the camera pov style. Sudden jumpscares do not come in the form of cinematic build up and scare stings but in the middle of an otherwise normal-ass scene where something unexpected and frightening will happen at a point where your mind has kind of assumed this scene's just a breather scene or is secretly delivering you some exposition when WHAM!

My favorite of these scares is just so insidiously effective that it has gotten me every single time I've watched the movie. The scene in question where our heroes use their camera, now the only light they have access to, to scout out a potential escape. Despite knowing the type of scene before I even saw it and expecting a scare to come out of left field either before or after I expect it, the scare still hits me like a damn train. It could be that the filmmakers hold back, almost to the degree where you end up wondering if it's misdirection and that the real scare will be when the camera is pulled back when WHAM, you get got by the simplest conceptual scare possible, there's something scary and grody-looking in your attic and it fucking GETS you.

REC isn't one of those movies that I have zero complaints about, there's a kind of out-of-left-field twist to what exactly is going on that feels more like sequel bait than part of a cohesive story. There are also perhaps more moving parts to this apartment building than feels entirely plausible and one or two scenes that don't quite hit the mark. These are minor quibbles hanging on for dear life on a majestic shadow-beast of a movie. Normally I don't even like fast zombies all that much, but these living dead folks got my adrenaline going like there are ambush predators about, and make no mistake.

[iishmael]

hiya, im sort of new here (ive finally started using tumblr properly after having an account for months) and i wanna start by saying what you do is amazing!! well done!!

i know its a bit of a stretch, but could you do something with stoffel vandoorne and mitch evans?? i feel like formula e is really undermined in fics cause the amount of angst you could write about a grid where a part of the grid are ex-f1 drivers...

even like 3 sentences would make me happy, so thanks <33

Welcome!! <3 I am surprised you found my blog since i'm more like the f1 senior ex-driver rehabilitation centre at this point but I hope you'll enjoy your stay (and I do have some brocedes content coming up! fittingly, for the senior rehab rip) I have not written stoffel in so long, the last time i wrote about him i headcanoned him as nando's and jenson's kid. the nostalgiaaaaa... this is very short, but i hope it'll make you smile! <3

Stoffel/Mitch Warnings: none

The raspy, choking sound was preceded by a bang.

"Are you kidding me?!"

"I told you. I told you that a McLaren would-"

"Oh, what the actual fuck! It's smoking too!"

"The McLaren and your driving style combined-"

"Stoffel, please, can you just-" Mitch grappeled with the latch of the door handle, the door of the GT smoothly sliding upwards even under his impatient jolting. "Please get out of the damned car!"

Even though Stoffel was still muttering under his breath - and all of that were Dutch curse words, Mitch was sure - he got out of the car and joined Mitch next to the hood.

"I told you we should've asked the car rental for something different. Maybe something more suitable to you. Like a Polo." Stoffel's smirk was wiped off his face when he inhaled some of the white smoke that kep wafting up from the engine.

Mitch snorted, suppressing a laugh against his will. "We have a serious problem here, can we maybe focus on that?"

He leaned forwards waving and fanning the smoke out of his face with quick movements of his hand, and squinted down to the engine. They had rented a car to get to their holiday destination - and now they stood on the side of the road somewhere in the middle of California, with an engine failure on their hands and the hot sun burning down on them. An inconspicous car would truly have been a better choice, Mitch thought to himself - obviously he was not about to annouce that to Stoffel.

Mitch sighed heavily, stepping back from the mess. Maybe that last donut and the little bit of speeding he'd put the car through had been too much? "I can't see anything with all the smoke," he announced, "and I don't want to stick my hand in there while it's still hot... Do you think we should-"

"Call roadside assisstance?" Stoffel snapped his phone shut with no concern for the bendy touchscreen, and pulled Mitch away from the gaping hood of the car. "Already done."

Mitch groaned and scrubbed his hand over his face. "I'm sorry. This is really not how I imagined our holidays to start..."

Stoffel had had another quip on the tip of his tongue, but when he saw that Mitch was starting to mope, he pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. "Now, stop looking like that. We'll be rescued in no time!"

"Easy for you to say!" Mitch buried his face against Stoffel's neck and hugged him close. "I hate cars," he complained, voice muffled.

Stoffel laughed and started to pet his hair. "Hey, if anyone's allowed to shittalk McLaren, that's still me, baby."~

[mizunetzu]

omg i’m so excited i like,, spam read all of your writing and now i can request,,, anyway, could i request maybe something similar to your Tanaka x femboy reader, but with Oikawa? like he mistakes him for a girl and maybe flirts with the reader a little bit and the reader i just like ,,”you do,, you do realize i am a man correct” and hijinks ensue?? sorry if this is too vague i suck at describing things. lotsa love your writing is literally my favorite 💕

Omg wait Oikawa??? And femboy reader??? Hijinks???? Take me now—

——————

Oikawa x reader - Oikawa Tooru Goes Both Ways

⚠️warnings - reader is mistaken and referred to unintentionally as a girl. I assure you, this is a male reader. Femboy reader, if that triggers you.

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

Oikawa couldn’t help but stare as a...rather cute girl stepped into the gym.

“Oi! Shittykawa! Focus!” Iwaizumi was about to hurl a volleyball at Oikawa’s head when he caught sight of where he was staring. He looked from the newcomer, back to Oikawa’s eyes tracing their form up and down.

“Iwa-chan...” Oikawa held his breath as he pointed subtly. “Who is that?”

Iwaizumi looked over back to the intruder. Sure enough, some girl with (h/c) styled hair stood at the foot of the door awkwardly. They weren’t sporting the school uniform, instead wearing a skirt with a cafe apron tied around their waist. Oikawa recognized the cute logo on the somewhat dirty apron as the coffee shop he’d visit on days he wasn’t particularly busy.

All in all, this stranger was incredibly attractive.

Eventually, coach Irihata emerged from the storage closet, and motioned the stranger over. The stranger perked up, pulled out a slightly-wrinkled paper from their back, and timpered off into the office.

Oikawa sighed dreamily. “Iwa-chan...is this what I think it is? Are we fiiiiiinally getting a cute girl manager to manage our team?!”

He draped himself over Iwaizumi’s shoulders. “Aaaaah~! I’m so happy~! And it’s such a cutie too!”

“Get off me, dumbass. You have like...millions of girls throwing their panties at you, literally all that look like her. And you go for the one who decides to join our club?”

Oikawa huffed. “What’s so wrong about that! She’s cute! And she looked so shy standing there...aaaah, I’m swooning just thinking about wrapping her up in my arms-!”

“I’m saying,” Iwaizumi bonked Oikawa on the head. “If you manage to get with her, then break her heart, or at the very least make her uncomfortable, she’ll have to see your annoying face all day at practice, and then she won’t wanna be manager anymore! Because she has to see you!”

Iwaizumi pinched at Oikawa’s scalp. “I want a cute girl manager and to have them actually stay! And who knows? We get brownie points if it’s not another one of your fangirls trying to get in your pants by joining the club!”

“Ow! Mean Iwa-chan, bad!”

“I’m not a damn Pokémon-!” Iwaizumi was about to kick Oikawa in the back, before letting himself simmer down and take a deep breath. He lowered his legs, and turned towards the office door. “...I’m gonna go look at that girl’s application and see what class she’s in. Maybe we can, I dunno, make her a welcome basket of fruit or some corny shit like that.”

“Let me come with you-!”

“No! You’ll just scare her away, and you have cleaning duty! All you need to do is take down the net, and I’ll meet you outside when I’m done. If you be good, I’ll tell you her name.”

Oikawa thought about it for a second.

“Deal.”

He disappeared to take down the net from the poles. Iwaizumi sighed, and walked towards the door. They were the only two left in the gym, as they were in charge of cleanup for the day, so no one else but him should be in the office. Well, minus the new girl and coach Irihata.

Iwaizumi slid open the door. “Yo.” He greeted. He looked around the room, only finding coach Irihata.

“...Didn’t someone come in here with you with an application form?”

Coach Irihata chuckled. “Oh, yeah,”

“He just wanted to drop in his member application before his part-time job made him go back to work.”

Iwaizumi froze.

“...he...?”

“Yeah, he wanted to join the club as a (Position name). He’s not confident about his jumping or spiking abilities, but he claims to be really dang good at digging and receives.”

The two looked at eachother in silence. Wasn’t she-well, he—wearing a skirt? Now that he thought about it, everything about him looked like...well...a him, minus the skirt. Iwaizumi dashed to the table and picked up the application resting there peacefully.

‘(L/n) (Y/n) - 2nd year, class 4’

‘Position - (Position name)’

Iwaizumi scanned the page. He wanted to doubt this was the ‘cute manager’ they laid their eyes on, but they even had a school photo clipped onto the corner of the paper. Sure enough, that was him. His eyes eventually landed on something printed on the middle of the page.

‘Gender - male’

That proved it. The ‘cute girl manager’ Oikawa was just fawning over turned out to be a guy. And their future teammate, no less. Iwaizumi wanted to laugh in Oikawa’s face.

“Is there something wrong, Iwaizumi-kun?”

“Pfft-no! N-no, sirrrrr....” Iwaizumi set the paper down and walked out the the room, doing his best to keep in his snickers.

Oikawa jogged up to him excitedly once he stepped out of the gym. “So? Did ya find out her name? Her class? Is she our manager?”

Iwaizumi opened his mouth to say something, before letting his mouth clamp shut.

“Nah, coach said I couldn’t see it.”

He watched as Oikawa deflated, trudging his way over to the club room to change and go home. Iwaizumi did his best not to bust out laughing on the spot.

This should be fun.

——

“Iwa-chan!”

“No, you stalker.”

“But Iwa-chaaaaaan!” Oikawa whined. “Why not?! Practice ended early, and we could use some coffee! Come buy coffee with me!”

“You just wanna use me as an excuse to see that bo-that girl who came into our club yesterday, idiot! That’s stalking! You’re acting like your little fangirls!”

Oikawa pouted, and Iwaizumi prayed he didn’t catch him on his little slip-up. He turned around, walking off out of school gates. Oikawa dejectedly trailed behind him.

“I’m going home. Don’t bother me if it’s about that manager again—“

Just then, a text tone pinged from Iwaizumi’s pocket. He stopped mid-sentence, fishing out his phone and opening his messaging app.

‘Mom - no ones going to be home because we have to go out real quick. The house is locked, and you left your spare keys with me again. Go out and have fun with Tooru-kun before I come back!’

Iwaizumi deadpanned. Oikawa had his chin resting on his shoulder, with a shit-eating grin Iwaizumi didn’t even have to look at to know was there.

“Yeah, Iwa-chan. Listen to Mrs. Aina and hang out with Tooru-kun for a bit. We can go to the cafe and hang out like your she said, Iwa-chan~”

Iwaizumi pushed past Oikawa bitterly. “Don’t... fuckin’... call my mom by her name... dumbass... stalker... Shittykawa...” he grumbled as he trudged his way in the direction to the cafe. Oikawa let out a small “Yay~!”

——

Hiding behind the big, laminated menus the cafe provided, Oikawa kept glancing over to the cashier-area to try and find (Y/n). Iwaizumi deadpanned, sitting back in his chair nonchalantly.

“You’re acting stupid.”

“I’m being sneaky.”

“You look more suspicious than if you were to act like yourself.”

“As if you would know!” Oikawa whisper-yelled to Iwaizumi, momentarily letting his menu fall flat. “I’m trying not to get caught, unlike one of us-!”

“Hello?”

Oikawa and Iwaizumi froze. Oikawa rigidly turned to the voice, while Iwaizumi almost fell back in his seat.

There stood the boy—well, the ‘girl’, in his work apron, this time, up close. Oikawa could see the detail in his eyes, the way a few of his hairs fell onto his face and stuck because of the small layer of sweat on his forehead, even taking in the small kitty hair clip resting in his hair.

“Hu...huaai...” Oikawa breathed out. Iwaizumi bit his lip. If he started laughing now, Oikawa would tell his mom he was bullying him again.

“Hello! I was wondering if I could get you two anything to drink! No worries if you aren’t ready to order yet.”

His voice had a soft tamber to it, a warm, welcoming aura that fit the vibe of the cafe perfectly. Iwaizumi could see how Oikawa, and probably other people, could mistake him for a girl. Especially with the way he dressed and carried himself as evident to yesterday’s practice.

Iwaizumi tilted the menu infront of him up a bit. “I’ll get a small black coffee. Whabout you, Oikawa?”

When he got no response, other than the hum of acknowledgment from (Y/n), Iwaizumi looked up. Oikawa was staring dumbly at (Y/n) again, and seconds later (Y/n) was caught under his gaze. He stared back awkwardly, waiting for Oikawa to say something or at least order something, until he suddenly jolted up in pain.

Iwaizumi dug his heel deeper into Oikawa’s foot. “Say something, dumbass! Stop staring!” He hissed, covering his mouth from (Y/n) in petty attempts to mask their conversation.

“Ow! Ow! I’ll get a peppermint tea please-! Stop it!”

(Y/n) scribbled down Oikawa’s order, smiling patiently as he did. Iwaizumi removed his foot. There was a beat of silence, until Oikawa smoothly rested his chin on his hand.

“Soooo, (L/n) (Y/n)-chan, is it?” Oikawa said, as he peered at (Y/n’s) name tag. “Pretty masculine name for a cute girl like you~”

Iwaizumi choked on his spit. (Y/n) tilted his head to the side, looking up from his notepad to peer back at Oikawa.

“What...did you say?”

“Sorry, sorry!” Oikawa rubbed the back of his head cutely. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I think (Y/n) is a cute name~”

Iwaizumi didn’t know if he wanted to die from laughter or embarrassment. He was going to pop a vein trying to keep in his cackles.

“Ah. It’s the clothes, isn’t it?” (Y/n) mused. He took a step back, looking at his rather-feminine clothing choices for the day. “I understand why. I get that a lot.”

“...What does your clothes have to do with your name?” It was Oikawa’s turn to sound confused. Iwaizumi let out a few haggard, stifled snickers at his dense expression. (Y/n) raised an eyebrow.

“You...” He pointed at himself with his pen. “You do realize I’m a man, correct?”

Oikawa choked. His eyes widened as his smile cracked a bit. Iwaizumi had to hide his face in his jacket to prevent himself from bursting out into hackles. Oikawa gave a nervous smile.

“Aha...haha...funny joke..”

“I’m not joking, though...” (Y/n) smirked. He wouldn’t deny that seeing the faces of people flirting with him after he told them he had a dick was a guilty pleasure. “Want proof?”

(Y/n) grasped Oikawa’s wrist, tugging it forcefully, and moving his apron to the side. He brought it down closer to his groin until Oikawa sputtered and flailed on the table.

“No! I-I believe you! I-I can see it from here—I don’t need to touch it-!” Oikawa shrieked. Iwaizumi clutched his stomach from laughing too hard, already given up on keeping it in. He snorted loudly, choked on that snort, and erupted into a series of cough-laughs.

By the time Iwaizumi’s laugh turned into the kind where no noise came out-but it hurt in your stomach anyways—Oikawa was laying his head on the table, embarrassed, while (Y/n) chuckled along.

“You knew, Iwa-chan! You knew!” Oikawa hissed, holding his poor, abused hand. “You set me up for failure!”

“You did that to yourself.” Iwaizumi said between breaths. “He’s actually gonna start attending practice as a (position name) starting next week. We don’t have a manager after all.”

“And you got my hopes up for what?!” Oikawa cried out, making Iwaizumi snort again. (Y/n) raised his eyebrows.

“Manager?”

“Oikawa thought that when you came to drop your registration form in yesterday, that you were signing up to be a manager since he thought you were a girl. I saw your form though, so I knew but this guy here didn’t.”

Iwaizumi nudged at Oikawa, who was hiding his face in his hands. “You better be nice to him, though. He’s your new captain starting next week.”

“Ah! How fun! Having my new playboy captain flirt with me before I even join the club. ” (Y/n) mumbled, as he scribbled down something else in his notepad. Iwaizumi heckled when Oikawa whined with his head down.

He didn’t raise his head back up until a slip of paper was placed gently on top of his head. He heard a “I’ll go get your drink ready.” From (Y/n), before he looked up and noticed he was gone. He caught the slip of paper falling off his head as he sat up.

“What’s that?” Iwaizumi said lazily. Oikawa was staring giddily at the paper. He turned the paper around smugly, holding it up for Iwaizumi to read.

‘Call me. If you’re feeling fruity, that is. (xxx)-xxx-xxxx. -‘(Y/n)-chan’’

Iwaizumi stared at the neat handwriting, then back at Oikawa’s smug face.

“...Were you not just listening? He just tried to make you touch his dick? He’s a dude?”

“Eh. Cute girl, cute boy, he’s still cute~” Oikawa dreamily sighed as he watched (Y/n) make his tea behind the counter. “I’d still hit it till he breaks~”

“Pervert.”

“Says you.”

Oikawa earned a sharp thunk to the head.

——————

[levisgirll]

𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛 𝐰/𝐂𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬

Hello everyone!

This is a special collab post brought to you by ‘cookiefics’ and ‘levisgirll’ and we decided to work together and write up a post which is y/n pranking their aot boyfriends!

Check out cookiefics for Eren and Reiner 

And

Check out ‘levisgirll’ for Levi and Jean. (Here!)

Synopsis: Y/N decided to prank the boys in attack on titan by saying they don’t want to ‘sleep with them tonight’. Some will get annoyed, sad, might tease you back or try to get your attention! And to make it up, Y/N ends the prank by saying the 3 words they long wanted to hear! So pick or check out which character you like the most and enjoy <3 We promise this will be good that is filled with love, fluff, entertainment and a little bit angst.

text: I feel honored to work and make a collab post with cookiefics, this was extremely fun to do and working with her was one of the best decisions I made! This is my first collab post and I am happy to say that I am glad and proud how this turned out! Important point please support and check out my friend’s cookiefics post for Eren and Reiner, you won’t regret it���💖 (her work is amazing- and I admire her writings and ideas a lot so check her account please :,)✨)

Levi:

‘Okay I’m gonna do it! No more backing away.’ Y/N thought as they took a deep breath while turning the door knob to enter the bedroom. They are gonna do the prank on Levi tonight.

Y/N entered the bedroom, and the first sight they see is Levi, their boyfriend, sitting on the chair while his legs were crossed and sipping his tea.

He would always wait for his partner before going to bed, he never once went to bed without first Y/N going to bed. He was that loyal and such a gentleman, and also because he is deeply in love with you.

He can’t even relax or lay on bed if you are not by his side! You are his everything, and he will not and never have a goodnight rest without you being by his side because you matter to him a lot.

Oh how you feel bad doing this prank on Levi, your great boyfriend...but you had to, you wanted to see how he would react!

“Love...I was waiting for you.” He sounded so glad, and happy once you entered inside. But, he realized you were a bit late and the next thing shocked him.

You just walked past him with a stolid manner, and did not even reply to him as you went straight to the bathroom. You took your toothbrush and started to brush your teeth.

Levi picked that up QUICKLY and would try to figure out what is wrong with Y/N, while still sipping his tea but now he has uncrossed his leg (cause this sudden act from his partner made him worry). Watching Y/N, observing them in his own sherlock style.

“Hey...Something wrong?” Levi would say as he laid his shoulder against the bathroom door which was open.

When you finished brushing your teeth, you were washing your hands and coldly said “No.”

He lowkey starts to get nervous and then he would probably start to think he is the problem why his lover is acting like this. He will think and be like ‘The hell? They don't love me? What am I to them….?’. He clearly starts to doubt himself and overthink. You gave him no sort of clue what was going on!

When you left the bathroom and went into the bedroom, you started to change into your nightwear, still giving Levi your back. 

Levi is quick and smart to catch on things, especially if the vibe is not the same. ‘Fuck did I actually mess this up’ He tries to initiate the conversation by asking you “Hey Love, did you drink the tea I made for you?”

“Hm, Oh yea.” Y/N said, still with her stolid manner and then proceeded to brush their hair. ‘What?!...Something is definitely wrong, this is the second time I'm saying love to them and they haven't once said love back.’ Now he is getting concerned and he started to come closer towards you, he is conflicted also to hug you or not. (you noticed that and that broke your heart-)

“Y/N, Something is wrong...was the tea bad!?” Levi said out loud in his unease tone. 

He turned around and went to his drawer to get the tea box to check if there was anything that was mentioned that could be bad.

He was ready to sue this tea company, ‘I want to end this company’s whole career...how dare they.’

“No Levi….it was not the tea.” You said all worried, ‘What tea is he even talking about?! And why does he look ready to murder someone’ You thought as you looked at him, but also trying to hold your laughter.

He gave out a sigh, relieved it was not the case. Now, he can sleep with you right? He went to change into his sleeping outfit and he was all thrilled to hold his Y/N and sleep with them. It was indeed his favorite time of the day.

But...Y/N wasn't moving towards the bed? And they begin to say “Hey Um...I wanna sleep alone tonight. So, could you leave?”

Levi had a sinking feeling in his stomach, his eyes widened ‘What..?’

He turned around to look at you all confused and...hurt by what you said. “No.” He said after 3 minutes of silence, he was trying to process what the hell was even going on. (poor man-)

“No? Okay, I’ll leave and go sleep in the other guest room we have.” But, before you could even go near the door to leave.

Levi would block the door by standing in front of it, not allowing his lover to leave. “If..” He started to look at you and raised his eyebrows, being all serious. Then, he said in a serious tone. “You go there, I swear to you I will kick the door down and break it.”

You had to hold back your laughter, and tried to control yourself because you know for a fact your man will do that and it would be a lie if he is not clingy. Cause, he is.

“Why! Tell me.” He looked at your eyes, searching for any sign of answer on your facial expression. One hand cupping your side cheek and the other hand rested on your shoulder as he gently stroked it. 

“If it is about the tea, I will try my best to drink those damn bubble teas, frappuccino or whatever they are that you like so much with you!” He gave you a look, that was determined and he was ready to go out and get one even if it was midnight just to prove it to you.

He is actually kind of shocked and he would stand there waiting for your response. But inside, he is sad and hurt about this all cause he is blaming himself this is happening because of him!

“L-Love!! It's a joke, a prank okay?” You couldn't hold yourself and you finally said it was a joke, you just missed not saying love to your boyfriend and you wanted to hug him again and express your love towards him cause you know he was hurt!

Levi would get irritated and annoyed, and let you go. He heads towards the bed. After, he would say. “Again, with your fucking pranks hm? No one is laughing here.” He is clearly pissed at how he fell for this but also, lowkey glad it was not none of the things he was thinking about.

Y/N surprises their boyfriend and would finally say it to make it up for Levi. “Hey...Um” Y/N stood there, all shy while looking down and holding their arms. Levi turned around to look at them, “What? Again another prank? Because that won't wor-”. You ran towards him and brought your arms around his neck while hugging him tightly “Ugh No, I love you!” While you said that, you kept your face on his shoulder and he felt your face burning up.

After you finally say those three words, he goes all soft and starts to even get butterflies. It was the first time he heard you say that out loud, because he knew you are usually shy.

He would think about it again the whole night and that makes him forget you even pranked him.

He hugs you even tighter tonight and kisses their neck quite a lot, he was showing you some of his rare affection and love.

Levi would later say “so you still like sleeping with me...hm? You didn’t say anything about that.”

He wants to make sure his s/o loves and cherishes him, and also he started to show more love tonight to you. 

Jean:

To start the prank with Jean, you decided to give him the silent treatment, and that upsets him to unknown levels for you. He was a really soft boy and small things like this really overwhelmed him!

“Babe...Do you want something?” Jean tried, he really did. To get any sort of reaction from you, he softly rubbed both of your shoulders as he was behind you. He was about to kiss your neck when you said. “Jean...I want to sleep alone tonight, maybe you should go and sleep on the couch because-” You were about to continue when he made you turn around quickly and held both of your arms.

“First of all, who is Jean? I don’t know any Jean! I’m babe for you, remember?” He was highly strung, and tried to pretend he did not hear you say his first name. This guy would always crave and was eager to hear you call him by his pet name. It really boosted his ego up and he loved it the way you always say it. He was deeply in love with his Y/N.

You couldn't bring yourself to laugh yet, because it was kind of cute to see Jean like this and it made you want to tease him even more! “Okay but I wanna sleep alone tonight, Jean.”

‘Wait, wait, Wait! My girl is upset! Shit, what the heck did I do? STUPID JEAN’ He would think while putting his hand on his forehead, trying to think while having an existential crisis on the couch in their huge bedroom. Then he jolted up and said, “Maybe...is it because I ate the ice cream that you left for yourself??!”

‘Um, what the fuck is with this man? And what ice cream is he even talking about!’ Y/N would think as they had a confused look. They couldn't even focus on the prank anymore and were wondering which ice cream it was.

You then turned around, grabbed a pillow and was about to leave the room but Jean was hugging and holding your waist from behind, not letting them leave and he would yell out saying. “No! I won’t let you leave babe! Will you forgive me if I buy more ice cream RIGHT NOW?” Your man was more than ready to go out with his pajamas and his slippers to get you all the ice creams from the nearest corner shop.

He really was willing to do and try literally anything to get you not upset with him and sleep with him tonight, he can’t go on the night without you!

Since Jean is really upset about this prank, y/n had to make it up for him and break off the prank.

“Calm down! It’s a prank babe.” You said giggling, and rubbing his biceps (he really likes that).

He let out such a long sigh and was relieved to hear that, like this guy kept thanking the world it wasn’t because of the ice cream. “Damn it, you scared me there!! Babe, please you will end up giving me a heart attack with these pranks.” He said with such a calm tone and hugged you.

“But you know...I can’t sleep without you.” Y/n said in a soft tone and went near Jean as they put their head against his chest. “You know I love you anyways...”

There was silence, he pushed your shoulders to look at your face that was red right now. “Wait...did I hear that right.” Jean just stood there, and was taken aback by what you just said. You were a blushing mess right now, and looked away. “Nothing Babe!! Let’s go to sleep now, okay?”. You tried to hurry back to your shared bed but he held onto you from behind again.

“Say it again...you made me suffer now with your stupid prank, so you’re going to repeat it! I heard it!” He was holding you so tightly and Jean was not going to let you go until you say it again.

Y/N gets all red and shy, while Jean is just too excited and takes this to his advantage. When you said it again after he was persuading you, he grabbed your hips and picked you up and you both were on your shared bed and he kept tickling you. Love and laughter filled the room and that melted Jean. He loved seeing you laugh, smile and being happy, it meant the world to him.

He showed you and gave you so much love that night you both did not sleep that evening.

We hope you ALL enjoy and love it <3 and if you do please leave a like, reblog or you could let us know what you think about it in the comments or asks🥺💕

[muffinbeliever]

(Almost) Unspoken Words

Dean is mad at the reader for being reckless during a hunt. The reader decides that apple pie and beer will solve all of their problems.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2196

Warnings: mentions of blood/violence, there’s one “damn” so ... minuscule language?, soft dean, beer (shocker lol)

A/N: sorry i’m taking so long for WTSA [05] !! i promise i’m working on it, i’m about half way through until then pls enjoy a short flangst one shot :)

Masterlist 

“You could’ve gotten yourself killed, Y/N! How could you be so reckless?” Dean Winchester yelled from the front seat of the Impala. You rolled your eyes. 

“It was necessary, Dean. I’m still here, and I saved Sam while I was at it,” you retorted, before looking at the younger Winchester brother sitting in front of you. He looked back at you, and you silently pleaded for him to defend you, hopefully ending the argument between Dean and yourself. 

“She’s right, dude. I was in trouble, but Y/N helped me. Stop being so harsh on her,” Sam said and Dean’s hands tightened around the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. He pressed harder on the gas, the road flying under Baby’s tires. You had been in this situation enough times to know that Dean was too angry to rationalize with. The car remained silent as you continued your three hour journey back to the bunker. 

The whole raid on the vamp nest went awry right from the start. You had underestimated the size of the nest and were clearly outnumbered. Yet, true to Winchester style, both brothers rushed in trying to catch as many off guard as they could. About half way through, you were surprised by how well it was going. The floor was littered with beheaded corpses and less than half of the nest was left standing. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Dean but not Sam. You were caught up in your battle, and couldn’t focus on the Winchester brothers, knowing that they could handle their own. After slicing the head off your opponent, you quickly surveyed the situation. Dean was fighting one vamp while Sam took on two. You saw Sam’s body fall, and his machete slide just out of reach. Both vamps began advancing on him. You made a split-second decision before running towards Sam’s direction, kicking the machete towards him and jumping onto the back of one bloodsucker, catching it by surprise.

While you started off with the upper hand, the fight quickly turned sour as the vampire flipped over, effectively throwing you to the ground. Your head slammed against the floor, and for a second you blacked out. You went to punch him, but black spots dotted your vision and you missed. Pain seared through your body as you were bit on your forearm. You were about to take another swing, bearing the pain, when you were splattered with blood instead. The vampire fell to the floor and you were met with the sight of Dean’s heaving chest and bloody machete. Sam finished off his opponent and the thud of the final body hitting the floor resonated throughout the space. 

Dean didn’t say a word, but rather stalked out of the room, heading to the car. Sam made his way over to you, ignoring his brother’s obvious anger.

“Thanks, bug,” Sam said, giving you a small smile before focusing on the bite in your arm. Luckily, it wasn’t as deep as you had originally thought, and it only needed a few butterfly stitches that you were able to apply them yourself in the back of the Impala. By some miracle, you weren’t concussed, so you took some painkillers for the residual pain plus your growing headache from Dean’s yelling. 

You were jolted awake when Dean slammed the Impala’s door closed. He was in a worse mood than you originally thought, if he was at the point of taking it out on Baby. While you understood that you pulled a risky move back in the nest, you didn’t know why Dean was so upset. It’s not like you were drastically hurt and neither was Sam. You got out of the car and grabbed your bag out of the trunk. 

“I got it, Y/N,” Sam kindly offered and took your bag before you could protest. You followed him into the bunker, insisting that you could take your bag once you got to the bottom of the metal stairs. Dean was nowhere to be found. As you walked down the long hallway to your room, you noted the door to his room was closed, usually indicating that he wanted to be alone. You sighed and went into your room, the golden twelve reflecting your dark eye bags and tangled hair. 

You set your bag down, pulling out the dirty clothes that you needed to wash and throwing the ones you were already wearing in the trash. No amount of soap and water could get out all that blood. You went into your closet, grabbing an underwear, sleeping shorts, and a dark gray henley that was probably Dean’s at one point and went to shower. When you had moved in, the boys were kind enough to attach a bathroom to your room so you could shower in private.

You had met the Winchester brothers on a hunt several years before. You had heard a few stories about them from Jo Harvelle. Your mother was a hunter that frequented at the Roadhouse and was close friends with Ellen. She had gone on a couple of hunts with John Winchester, but you had never met the man, nor his boys. It wasn’t until a few years after Jo and Ellen’s death, you ran into them while tracking down a ghoul. Once the hunt was over, you got drinks with the boys and exchanged numbers before heading your separate ways.

You stayed in contact with them over the next couple of years; sometimes they called you for back up or vise versa. After a particularly rough djinn hunt, the brothers offered you to stay with them at the bunker, as it was dangerous for you to be hunting alone. At first, you were unsure and didn’t want to intrude, but they welcomed you with open arms. Over the years, you had become close to the boys, forming different relationships with each. 

Sam thought of you as a nerdy younger sister. Although you were a hunter, your mother wanted you to lead a normal life. You attended college for a couple of years before leaving when your mom was killed by a vetala. Despite dropping out, you continued to research and gain knowledge on topics that piqued your interest. Often nights, you and Sam were up late in the library discussing a wide range of topics, from basic law to parallel universes. He affectionally referred to you as “bug” due to the significant size difference between the two of you. 

While you were close to Sam, Dean was your best friend. The two of you had spent countless nights together, whether it was comforting one another after a nightmare or deep existential talks. Somewhere between the late night drives and the movie marathons, you had fallen for Dean. He was a known flirt and would tease you sometimes, but you knew that he was only joking around. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop your heart from beating faster every time he winked at you. You knew that loving Dean was a waste of time, as he only looked at you as a friend, but you couldn’t resist his shining green eyes or his gleaming smile. 

Blood-stained water swirled down the shower drain as you washed away all of the dirt and grime covering your body. You reveled in the steaminess of the shower and the pelting of water droplets on your back. You wished you could stay in there longer, but you knew that the boys were showering too, and you didn’t want to use up all the hot water. While you weren’t even sure that it was possible to run out of hot water, as it had never happened before, you didn’t want to find out today. 

You dried off and cleaned your wound before applying another set of butterfly stitches. Your damp hair slightly soaked through the back of your shirt, but you didn’t mind, as you were now warm and clean. You pulled on a pair of fuzzy socks to keep the coldness of the cement floor from transferring to your body. Deciding on doing the laundry tomorrow, you left your room and wandered around the bunker before ending up in the kitchen. You looked in the fridge and noticed the half-eaten pie that you had made earlier, and an idea sparked in your mind. You grabbed two beers and the pie tin as well as two forks, balancing them in your arms as you made your way back to the hallway. 

Dean’s door was still closed, but you had come bearing his favorite foods. There was no way he’d turn you down. You knocked gently and heard the shuffling of footsteps before the door opened. While he wasn’t jumping for joy to see you, you could tell that he had calmed down a bit. He was wearing a similar henley and boxers, his wet hair indicating he had recently showered. He took one look at the food in your hands before letting you in. 

You gingerly set down the food, intimidated by the deafening silence. He sat on the edge of his bed and you handed him a beer and a fork. You sat next to him, the pie tin between the two of you. He took a long swig of beer as you took the first bite of apple pie. You waited until he spoke first, knowing he had a lot on his mind that he wanted to say. When he opened his mouth, you expected him to berate you once again, but his words surprised you.

“When I saw you hit the floor, it’s like my heart stopped. You’re a good fighter, Y/N, I know that, but the sheer force that slammed you down was so big that I was worried I had lost you. I heard your head hit the floor, and I swore I heard a crack. But you came back swinging, and I knew you were alright but then that son of a bitch bit you. I knew that I had to continue fighting, but it was hard to suppress the urge to help you,” he confessed. 

“Killing him was gratifying, but I was so angry still. I was angry at you for sacrificing yourself to save Sammy. I was angry at Sammy for getting in that situation in the first place. I was angry at myself because I thought that I would lose you before I could tell you everything that I wanted to,” he took another sip of beer before continuing, “And the worst part was, after I saw you were alright, I still didn’t want to tell you, even though I almost lost you.” 

You were shocked. While he was being frustratingly vague and you didn’t want to get your hopes up, it sounded an awful lot like he had some sort of feelings for you. He was staring into the bottom of his beer bottle and you knew that he was deep in thought. You gently pulled the bottle from his hands, replacing it with yours. You put the pie on the floor and scooted closer towards him. He looked up at you, and you saw vulnerability in his dark green eyes. 

“You’re overthinking it,” you whispered, hoping to encourage him to delve deeper into his emotions. His eyes searched yours and he cupped your cheek with one hand. 

“Sweetheart,” he started, “The way I feel about you… I can’t even begin to describe it. Your laugh makes my day and your smile lights up every room in the bunker. Every time you’re in my arms, my heart races. You have the biggest heart and every day, I am grateful that you have let me into it. You make a killer apple pie and somehow brew the best damn coffee in the morning. I don’t get how you do it, we all use the same coffee maker and blend, but yours always tastes better. Sometimes I can hear you singing in the shower, and I think it’s adorable, even if you are a terrible singer.” Your eyes glazed with tears, as you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You opened your mouth to reply, but suddenly his soft lips were pressed against yours.

There were many times where you had imagined kissing Dean Winchester, but it was nothing compared to the real thing. He kept one hand on your cheek while the other went to your waist and pulled you in closer. You tangled your fingers in his hair as he deepened the kiss. His tongue swiped against your lips and you granted him access, allowing him to explore your mouth. You were the first to pull away, the words dying to be said. 

“I love you,” you said sincerely, his eyes piercing into yours. He smiled and pulled you in for another kiss.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he murmured against your lips. You were lost in him, left breathless and wanting more. 

“By the way,” you said, in between kisses, “I’m an amazing singer.” He chuckled and pulled you into a deep kiss, effectively shutting down your argument, but you didn’t mind one bit. 

Taglist: @akshi8278

[keisurou]

build it up

(ft. koutarou bokuto)

minors dni. 

wc: 3.2k

Warnings: semi-public sex (in the locker room?), doggy style, mirror sex, mutual masturbation, blowjob, atsumu x kiyoomi ship, atsumu being a lil’ shit and drilling ideas into bo’s head, not edited. 

So my friends and I were fangirling discussing and apparently personality-wise, I’m basically a mix of Akaashi and Kenma, and it kinda makes sense because my top two comfort characters are Kuroo and Bokuto. Anyways, this is just a lil’ thing I wanted to try out, and again, this is not edited (i did edit it, and then my laptop just DIED so now its all gone. *sobs*) - does anyone want to be a beta-reader?? Because I literally went on a road trip with my family and just typed this in the car the entire time while my brothers screamed nonsense bs next to me. Hmu if you’re actually interested :) 

“Babe,” Bokuto murmurs into your neck, drawing out the word, his hair still damp and smoothed down from his shower not too long ago. You’re trying to focus on the pile of research assignments in front of you, but the way your fiance is rubbing circles on your back has you rereading the same sentence multiple times. “I heard something I wanna try,” 

“Hmm?” You hum noncommittally, encouraging him to continue, but you don’t look away from the papers. He frowns, frustration clawing at his belly and lets out a small grunt as he paws at your thighs exposed by your silk pyjamas. When he doesn’t speak, you turn to him and run your fingers through his damp locks before ruffling them slightly. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you tired? You have practice tomorrow morning, don’t you?” 

He doesn’t respond, his gaze locked on your lips and the way your tongue peeks out ever so slightly to wet your bottom lip only for a second. Bokuto has been strung tight lately; he had just returned from a training camp after being away from you for an entire week. He had been so excited to come home to you; he missed your smiles, your soft agreements, the way you came apart and lost yourself under his touch. But instead, he came home to you fully decked out in your ‘no sex’ gear. That’s right, from the ten piles of papers you had to mark, and a brand new box of red felt tips, you were ready for five days of no sleep, no fun, and absolutely nothing frisky with Bokuto. Needless to say, he almost cried when he first stepped into the apartment. 

But now, with only ten research papers left, you were practically finished. “Babe, let’s cuddle tonight,” You give him a look, and he deflates only a little before quickly adding, “I’ll be good, I swear,” 

“Kou-kun,” you lean in and give him a soft peck on the cheek, and he’s so touch starved that he sits motionless, absorbing the way your lips brush against his skin for as long as he can. “You’re always good.” You move away, and he quickly grabs your hands, intertwining your fingers together. “But if I finish up here today, I won’t be able to see you play tomorrow,” 

He’s silent as he contemplates this and then promptly hooks a hand around your waist and pulls you to him. His lips slant over yours, and it only takes you a second to melt into the kiss, hands flying to the hem of his t-shirt to drag him closer. Your lips are warm, and he can taste the sweetness of cherries from the dizzying brush of your tongue. He leans back against the sofa, and you clamber onto his lap, your softness meeting the hard planes of his body as you kiss along the smooth column of his neck. There is nothing sexier than the way you press a kiss before nibbling along his jaw, and his hands automatically find their way under your sleep shirt to squeeze at a naked breast. 

You let out a strangled moan and immediately press your body to his chest, halting his movements. Bokuto’s eyes widen as he tentatively brushes a thumb on the underside of your breast, only for you to shudder. “Koutarou, wait,” you pant softly, grabbing at his arm to pull it from your chest. “I’m really sensitive today, and it hurts if you squeeze too roughly,” 

“Why?”

“I’m on my period,” you say simply, and he blurts out the first thing that pops into his head. 

“So, no sex?” 

You shake your head, and his erection throbs painfully in his shorts as it strains against the material, somehow understanding the situation but not exactly cooperating. You get up to clear the table, and when you stretch, he can clearly see the way your nipples poke through the flimsy fabric, almost as if begging for his attention. He’s up, wrapping his arms around your waist and breathing in the scent of your hair. “Can I massage them?” 

You pause, and when you don’t respond for a few seconds, he cups one breast through the shirt, palming it softly until you melt under his touch. “O-Okay, but no sex,” 

He murmurs out a thank you, his golden eyes sparkling, and he’s glad you don’t question his enthusiasm. Once in the shared bedroom, he strips your shirt off your body watches with hooded eyes as you crawl over to join him at the centre of the bed. 

His fingers brush against a peaked nipple before slowly pushing down on the nub, and you let out a soft whine before cupping your other breast yourself, rotating the flesh in small circles. 

Bokuto briefly wonders how long it could take to make you cum just from your tits, and he turns it into a personal mission for tonight. He pulls at the free nipple, and you gasp sharply. Your reaction brings a lazy grin on his face, and he brings you to sit on top of him, the outline of his erection pressing against your ass so he can feel at least some sort of friction. He swats your hand away and pulls a nipple into the heat of his mouth, suckling the flesh softly as your thighs tremble around his waist. The first contact of his teeth against your sensitive nipple has your breath hitching deliciously as you chant his name, and he does it again, wanting to commit the sound to memory. 

“K-Koutarou, please. I’m going to-”

He switches to the other breast and bites down on the nipple without warning. Your hands fly to the back of his head, pushing him closer to your chest as he soothes the abused skin with long strokes of his tongue. The way you pull at his hair sends sharp jolts of pain, and you realise that each time you tug at his locks, he puts his teeth to work. 

You tug at his hair again, and he smiles as he bites down for a second. He takes satisfaction in the way you tremble and grind against him when he tugs at a hardened bud with his fingers, twisting and rolling the nub until it borders on pain and pleasure. He’s going to make you come like this even if he doesn’t get any sleep.  

Minutes later, you tremble, your hands feebly pushing at Bokuto, and he leans back only slightly. He watches with wide eyes as you roll your hips, the movements unstable and shaky, almost frenzied. Your fingers squeeze at a breast and pull at the tip of the other, and you let out a breathy moan at the sharp streak of pain that quickly turns into pleasure. “K-Kou-kun. I’m s-so close. So close.” You whine out in both pleasure and frustration and reach for his hands so he can help you finish the job. “Please,” 

You don’t notice the way Bokuto’s erection grows bigger from under you. He loves it when you beg for him like this, eyes glazed with lust without a care in the world except for how quickly you’ll come. It’s so intoxicating, and you look so desperate that he can’t help but want to tease you until you’re ruined.  But tonight, there was no way; you wouldn’t be getting any help from him until he gets off on the image of you sobbing for his fingers and his tongue. 

He watches as your eyes widen when you see him take out his cock and grip himself at the base. The tip is red and weeping, and when he smears the fluid all over the head, he’s delighted to see the way you lick your lips and lean forward, entranced. “What is it, puppy?” He purrs and grips himself at the base before moving up to the tip and coming back down again. The way your eyes follow the movement is incredibly sexy, but it’s the tremble in your lower lip that has him growing harder. “F-Fuck. Shit, you want my cock? I thought you said no sex.” 

There’s a whine of frustration, and at this point, he can’t tell if it’s from you or him, but the way you rub your thighs together and tug at your nipples has him lifting his hips, craving the friction he can’t have. There are now tears in your eyes as you sniffle.  For a fleeting moment, Bokuto considers sliding your underwear to the side; your period be damned, and fucking you into the mattress until the bedsheet is soaked with your tears. His cock twitches in agreement at the mental image, and a shudder goes down his spine. 

Instead, he gives himself a few more rough strokes and closes his eyes, listening to your moans echo in the room before he groans, loud and low, as his release lands messily on the bedsheets. 

Bokuto is restless at practice the morning after, and everyone knows this because his performance was downright terrible. On the rare occasions when he did score a point, there was no hey, hey, hey, no burst of confidence, no nothing. 

There had been days on end where the team would have done anything short of murder to shut Bokuto up, but now that he had, they had no idea what to do. Well, except Atsumu, of course. The setter sauntered over, his lips stretched into a cocky smirk. “Bokkun, what are ya mopin’ about for? Did yer girlfriend leave ya all needy?”

Bokuto grumbled sourly at the blonde before promptly turning away. “I’m not moping.” And when Atsumu raises an eyebrow, encouraging him to continue, Bokuto only sighs and leans back on his elbows. Surprisingly, that’s all the setter needs to understand the situation and begins to laugh. 

The entire situation is infuriatingly unfair, especially since it was, in fact, Atsumu who had drilled in the idea of having sex in semi-public places. Bokuto usually didn’t care to listen to the gossip of others much, unless it was related to volleyball or you. During the training camp, the blond setter had been describing how hot it was to do it in a semi-public place where there was a high chance of getting caught, much to Kiyoomi’s chagrin. Bokuto genuinely cannot bring himself to care because obviously sex feels good all the time, so why would doing it outside make it any different? Atsumu had just tutted when Bokuto explained this to him before asking him about you, and that definitely got his attention. 

“Bokkun, do ya know what kinks yer girlfriend has?” 

“She doesn’t have any,” Bokuto’s response had been immediate, and Atsumu just stared, wondering if the hyperactive male was just pulling his leg. But he wasn’t - Bokuto genuinely knew you didn’t have any because of course you would tell him as soon as you discovered one, right? 

“She seriously never told ya?” 

“Maybe she just doesn’t know.” 

Atsumu had spluttered indignantly to his excuse, equal parts horrified and insulted that Bokuto could even think about suggesting such a thing. 

Needless to say, ever since then, Bokuto has been trying to find out more of the things that make you tick in bed. He’d already found two last night, and his body was already tense, eager to find out more today. Especially since you said you’d be visiting after handing back all the papers to your students. They all wrapped up practice, with Meian giving Bokuto extra laps around the gym. By the time he had finished the required amount, Hinata and Meian were about to leave but had stopped to greet you for a few minutes. The sight of you leaning against the door, your lips pulled up into a soft smile filled him with restless energy and he took a swig of his water before making his way to you. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” His voice booms, echoing off the walls and you swivel around to grin at him. There is a collective sigh of relief from the other members as they leave the court gym and he sees the way your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He practically sprints to you and pulls you into a bear hug. He knows he’s sweating and that he probably stinks, but that all takes a back seat as your arms come around to wrap around his waist as you breathe in the feel of him. “Are you feeling better?”

You nod and lean up, puckering your lips to give him a short kiss, and his heart squeezes before he leans down to meet your lips halfway. When you pull back, your face is flushed, and you lean forward to whisper in his ear. “I’m sorry about last night. I’m all better today, we can go wherever you want and do whatever you feel like,”

His golden eyes glint dangerously under the low lighting of the hall, and you immediately know that you’re in trouble. “Now?”

He can see the way your breath hitches and throat constricts as you let out a little whimper. Your voice reaches a higher octave as you whisper out a “Now?” and he suddenly wishes that he could drag you to the locker room in front of everyone. He realises with a start that Atsumu had been right all along and expects the fact to rub him the wrong way, but the thought is pushed to the back as you let out a timid nod. 

That’s all he needs. He drags you into the locker room, too impatient to bother with the intricacies of the lock. Everyone had gone home anyway, so what did it even matter? As soon as he sits down, you push his thighs apart and situation yourself between them. Your hands fly to the hem of his gym shorts as you gaze up at him, and the whisper of friction that your fingers provide already has his cock swelling in his boxers. 

The first contact your tongue made with his cock has him hardening even further as he sinks his fingers into your hair. He can’t take his eyes off the way your hot tongue glides up the curve of his dick before swirling around the tip and- 

“Fuck. Fuck. Wait, baby-Don’t-”

You take him into your mouth, one hand softly massaging his balls, and all the protests die in his throat almost instantly. He chokes at the sight of you on your knees and your pretty, pretty mouth stretched around his fat cock. There are tears forming at the corner of your eyes as you struggle to take him in any further, and there’s nothing in the word that could make him look away. He thrusts his hips up only slightly, taking you off guard and forcing more of his length into your mouth as you gag around his size. 

You make a sound at the back of your throat as you drool around his cock, and it sends waves of vibrations throughout his length. Bokuto eases out of your mouth, and the stark coldness that hits the sensitive skin has him hardening even further. “You did so good, puppy,” he pants out his praise and comes up behind you before he pushes you forward so that you’re on your hands and knees. You’re such a pretty sight that he has to stop himself from entering you straight away. “Are you comfortable, babe? Think you can take it like this?” 

You nod vigorously and hold his gaze through the mirror. The head of his cock is leaking and angry, and he’s half tempted to bury himself balls deep inside you without warning. But the moment he pushes the tip inside your wet heat, you arch your back, and his hips jerked forward, craving the way your slick walls spammed around his length. 

“S-Shit—” Bokuto grits out, relishing the way the unmistakable sound of your arousal squelching around his cock echoes in the locker room. “God, you’re so fucking messy- baby, I can’t—” his words end on a whine and tries to push himself further inside you, his hands going to grip your hair to wrap it around his fingers. 

There’s a low guttural moan from you, and when he looks up, his gut clenches at the sight of your thoroughly fucked face. He wants to commit it all to memory - the way your tongue lolls out while your eyes roll to the back of your head as you cry out for him because he’s the only one who can make you feel like this. He pulls at your hair slightly and immediately feels you clench around him. 

He does it again, harder. 

Your whimpers thunder in his ears, and he leans forward until he has you completely underneath him, chest grazing the back of your shoulders as he braces his entire weight on his arm. His tongue and teeth are relentless on the flushed tips of your ear, laving the sensitive skin before nipping it harshly as he thrusts into you. “You’re such a pretty puppy, aren’t you? Fucked dumb and drooling on my cock,”

You sob at this, your words slurring. “K-Kou, s’close—” His thrusts become short and fast, reaching deeper as your walls dragging along his cock deliciously. The way you’re needy heat is sucking him in leaves him breathless, his hips stuttering with effort as he struggles to go faster and faster and— 

Your walls flutter around his girth, clenching down and squeezing so tightly that he can’t help but arch his back, hands gripping your hips to bring you closer, the curve of your ass flush against his abs. He ruts into you harshly, trying to fuck you through your orgasm, and it’s the loud slapping of skin on skin that mixes perfectly with your lewd keens that have his dick spasming and finally sends him over the edge. 

For a moment, all he can hear are the heavy breathing as you both try to catch your breaths, skin slick and glistening with sweat, but then his ears perk up at the telltale whisper of footsteps shuffling. Somewhere, right outside the door, a broomstick topples over something, and he swears he can hear the hushed bickering of Atsumu and Kiyoomi. 

Thank you for reading :) 

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[wiypt-writes]

Consciousness Of Guilt

Chapter 1

Summary: It’s a year since Ransom was murdered, and you’re settling well into your new life in Boulder. It hasn’t just provided you with a fresh start-it’s brought you a new sense and purpose, an appreciation for the things you took fore grated, and the friendship of a former ADA…

Warnings: Bad Language, allusions to past abuse (Non Con/Dub Con) but nothing explicitly described in this chapter.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader and any other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

W/C: 5k

Consciousness Of Guilt Masterlist // Main Masterlist

A/N- So, here it is! The sequel to Murder, He Wrote . This is the last time I’ll post this note, however, please be aware that the prequel is a Dark series. Whilst this is not, it will contain flashbacks and themes as we progress, however nothing will be as dark as MHW. Chapters will be clearly labelled with appropriate warnings. If anyone is uncomfortable with the themes of a certain chapter, I will be more than happy to post/provide abridged versions which will not deviate from the storyline.

Sunrise. You used to hate the coming of each day. It meant another monotonous day in your young adult life. A 'depends on the day' type of job at the paper in which you got your start, it meant earning little for the slave work you put into each piece or research. It meant another day you'd woken up in fear, not knowing what was coming next. Then, for a little while, sunrises were okay. They were a soft glow across the room, illuminating hard lines and soft curves, whispering words and lingering kisses. And then, they became fearful again, bringing the unpredictable nature of a life in which you were trapped.

But now, over the last few months, since taking up your new hobby, sunrise had become a beautiful thing. The feeling of peace and comfort washing over you like a warm rain, bringing the redeeming nature of a new day as vibrant watercolours paint the new-born sky. Whether you caught it from the East side of your condo; your master balcony and study or your garden, or even your hikes, you appreciated every, single sunrise as if you were seeing it for the first time ever, each and every day.

For this morning's sunrise, you were perched along Boulder Creek Path, a trail that runs from the foothills to across town, a typical recreational getaway for many locals and tourists. You looked out over the bridge as the creek flowed beneath your feet. You were lost in the serenity of it, the bubbling water lulling your mind into a deep mediation that washed peacefulness through your entire body.

A year ago today, your life changed and you were freed. Free of the nightmare that had plagued you, robbing you of nearly a year of your life. The months that followed weren't so easy, but once things settled and the fires were extinguished, you found peace.

You found you.

Your phone buzzing in your pocket brought you back from your reverie, pressing your thumb onto the screen to unlock it. You opened your messages tab and tapped the most recent incoming text.

A smile flicked on your face as you slipped your phone back in your pocket. It didn’t escape your knowledge how Andy didn’t need to even ask what coffee you wanted. But then again, this wasn’t the first time you’d had breakfast in the small, independent coffee place not far from your home and place of work. You knew when you arrived that a large caramel vanilla latte, with an extra shot would be waiting. But no food, your order varied depending on your mood.

Twenty minutes or so later, you parked your sting-grey Jeep Grand Cherokee SRT 4x4 back in your garage to your condo at the corner of 9th and Pine Street and set off on the short ten minute walk to your designated meeting place, centred near the town square, not far from your office which was a gorgeous old red-brick building on the corner of 16th and Walnut Street.

As you approached, you didn’t spot Andy’s black Audi TT in any of the spaces littered around but it didn’t bother you. Barber was reliable, if he said he was going to be there, he’d be there.

And sure enough, as you walked along the side of the cafe you, spotted him at your usual, preferred table by the large window, overlooking the street. He saw you approaching and smiled, giving a small wave.

The smell of roast coffee beans, baked treats and other delicious aromas hit your senses as you opened the door. You approached the table and Andy stood up to great you, smiling. A light grey tee sat exposed under a partially zipped up light weight blue leathered hoodie whilst dark and crisp denim covered his narrow hips and long legs, his go to well-worn black work boots on his feet. His hair was styled and soft looking, his beard always trimmed and neat. He gave you a strong, yet gentle hug, a juxtaposition he managed effortlessly before he turned and waited for you to sit first before he took up his previous seat, nodding to your waiting drink.

“Thank you.” You beamed at him, taking a quick sip. "Of course." He smiled as he took a drink of his own coffee, straight black, before he leaned back a little. His left arm rested over the back of the booth bench, the platinum of his wedding ring catching the early morning sun which streamed through the window. You momentarily glanced at your own hand, bare of the heavy rings which had been taken in the ‘mugging’. Mind you, you wouldn’t be wearing them even if you still had them. Your story was a lot different to his.

“So, where'd you go this morning?" his soft baritone drifted across the table and you glanced back at him. "Fiddled around down Boulder Creek Path." "You seem to be getting around better now." "Yeah, thank God for GPS. Did I tell you that last week I was looking for some store Amber vaguely told me where about it was and ending up like thirty minutes down the highway towards Denver." He laughed, his whole body smiling, radiating genuine amusement. "You have more faith in GPS than me, when I first moved here I got pulled over for going the wrong way down a one way street because it told me to.” You grinned as he shook his head. "And that annoying voice! I want to wring her damn neck." You gave a chuckle but before you could reply, the middle-aged woman, who owned the café, interrupted you both with her usual familiar greeting and the smile she reserved for Andy. “Hey Patti, how are ya?” He smiled back. “Same old, same old.” She winked back. “What can I get you kids today?” “Y/N?” Andy looked at you and you smiled. “Can I get an almond croissant and a granola pot, please? With the blueberry compote.” “Sure honey, and for you Mr Barber?”

“French toast please, all the trimmings.”

A fizzing filled your ears as you were suddenly back on a clinically clean, modern kitchen, nervously scouring a fridge and cupboards for something to make your captor breakfast with. You swallowed, taking a deep breath, counting backwards from five as you always did to keep the memory from swallowing you.

“Hey,” a gentle touch to your hand jolted you back and you looked at Andy who frowned. “You okay?” "Yeah, no, I mean yes, I'm okay. It just…it dawned me this morning that this was the best thing I could have done for myself. Like there's just a newfound peace that's settled with me, you know?" He just smiled as he squeezed your hand before slipping his away. “Yeah, I do.” No more was said about it, and Andy didn’t press. He never did. In the eight weeks or so that had passed since you’d met him that Friday evening in the bar, the pair of you had struck up a friendship that was based on a mutual understanding. You both carried a heavy burden of a traumatic past on your shoulders, but you had an unspoken rule. He had never mentioned Ransom. And you, in turn, never broached the subject of Laurie or Jacob. You understood you were both moving on with your life, both wanting to heal from the past and you wanted to spend the rest of your life never in fear again. Instead, a simple chatter always flowed between the two of you, and today was no exception. You barely stopped to thank Patti for dropping your order off at the table. Current work was never a topic of conversation, although office gossip featured on occasion, but mostly it was always about happenings around town, him asking about you, your parents and your old job, the two of you talking about your favourite places in Boston. You never missed certain facial and eye cues Andy gave off at the mention of certain things, but when you saw them, that sag in his smile or the far off look his eyes would give, you'd change the subject. You ate in comfortable companionship and after another coffee, Andy asked for the bill and then pulled out his card to pay. "Next one is on me, you paid for the last two and coffee all this week." You gave him a stern look as you headed towards the exit. “Well, if you wanted you could grab us a beer later.” He shrugged, pulling the door handle to open it, allowing you to step out before him. “I gotta nip into the office for a coupla hours but...” "Breakfast AND drinks?" You smiled as he fell into step beside you. The July day was starting to warm a little now, the slight chill of the early morning all but gone. “If I didn't know any better, I'd say you actually like hanging out with me." “Well, I wouldn’t go that far. I just find you slightly less irritating than everything and everyone else.” He teased and you laughed. “So... Happy hour?" "Yeah." You nodded “It's a date." Andy confirmed and you quirked your eyebrow, trying not to laugh at the look on his face as he realised what he had said. “A date?” “Well, I don’t mean a date date but...” You felt the heat in your neck a little, so to save your embarrassment and his blushes, you smiled, "it's a date-not-date. Say Oskar’s, 6:30?" "Oskar’s." He confirmed. "I'll save you a tall, cold one." “You’re an angel, you know that?” "I wouldn't go that far. My halo is held up by horns” “Even Prometheus was an angel at some point, Y/N.” He replied as you reached the corner of the street where you would part. Him towards the office, you back home. You rolled your eyes and shook your head. "I'll see you tonight." At that he gave you another quick hug, his hand rubbing your back over the top of your light jacket before you headed your separate ways.

You enjoyed the walk home. It gave you the perfect chance to just mellow out and walk off a bit of your breakfast. You tucked your hands into the pockets for your vest, your white thermal keeping your arms covered. You headed down Pearl Street, watching as the little shops and boutiques began to set up their patios and side walk spaces for their Saturday. You took in the clean fresh mountain air deep into your lungs and allowed a warm smile to cross your lips. 

From Pearl to 9th you went, hooking a right up 9th until you walked to the corner of Pine, and onto the porch of the nice and spacious condo you closed escrow on just weeks ago. 

That deep feeling of home greeted you as you stepped inside, wiping your boots on your door mat just before kicking them off and setting them by the back door you’d come through. The cream walls invited you in, the oak furniture and fixtures, a feature that reminded you of home, the decor you grew up with, a safe place. 

You'd bought the condo outright with the money you'd inherited from Ransom's untimely death and subsequent estate. You knew before you'd even stepped foot into the property initially, that it'd become yours. The week you closed escrow, you and your parents moved you into the three bedroom, three and a half bath condo, never looking back. 

The open floor plan and panoramic views had stolen your breath and it was then, the first night your parents had left you alone, too anxious to sleep alone, you had fallen in love with the sunrise, seeing it from your front garden patio, bundled up with tea and a wool blanket. All three rooms in the space had no adjoining walls and their own en-suites. The master bedroom, your room, was massive. An en-suite with walk in shower, soaking tub and Jack and Jill sinks. Two walk in closets that you knew you'd probably never fill completely, an Eastwardly view and balcony. The two spare rooms, were separated, one on the second floor down the hall from yours where it's balcony looked West, as it were above the garage and the third on the top and final floor with its own balcony. That was your office space, a spot for you to work and to breathe in the fresh air. 

Everything in that condo was yours, down to the logs you'd put in your fireplace and the silly little amenities you'd given yourself from knickknacks to the colour of your dishes. There was one space however you left untouched. And only your parents had been inside to pack away your unused things as storage space. That room was your basement. You didn't need to go down there, you figured if you needed something from there, you'd go buy it anyway. All that was truly stored down there anyway were things from your childhood your mother insisted on you bringing along.

As if her ears were burning, your phone buzzed from your back pocket, revealing your mother calling. 

"Hey, Mom." You answered. 

"Hi, honey. I was just calling to see how you were doing. Check in on you." You could hear the worry in her voice and you couldn't help but smile. 

"I'm really good, Mom. It’s been good here." "You still hiking every day?" She sounded hopeful now.  "Lately it's just been on the weekends. I've been really busy at work, which isn't exactly a bad thing either." You had made your way to your room, looking for some lounge pants to change into while you continued your conversation.  "Well, busy is a blessing. Do you have anything planned for today or...."  "Uh, well I just had breakfast with a friend from work who I'm also meeting for drinks later." You smirked at the thought.  There was a joyful sigh that poured into your ear from the ear piece, "Oh, this friend wouldn’t happen to be the mysterious Andy you’ve name dropped the last few calls would it?"  You hesitated, "y..ye...yeah." Then you heard the tell-tale sound of your mother's chuckle. “We’re just friends.” "I'm not saying anything." You could picture her with her hands held up in defence. "You sound happy." “I am. I feel okay, more than okay even. I’m good.” "Alright. Well, don’t waste your day. Enjoy it. Your dad and I will talk soon." “Yeah, listen Mom, why don’t you come over for a few days in a couple of weeks? You’ve not been since the week you came to help me move in. It would be nice to show you round now I’ve got my bearings.” "We would love that. I'll have your father look at booking some time." “Okay just let me know. Tell Daddy I said hi.” "I will, sweetie. Love you, bye.” "I love you too, Mom, bye." The seventeenth of July, a date that you hope one day will come to mean nothing and be like any other day. But for now, it was a sting that reminded you of all that had happened. Not unlike Halloween, a day in which you'll forever hold in a fearful anxious place in your soul. It served as a reminder of the moment your life had taken a very dark turn, a darkness that you were still, in a lot of ways, finding your way through. Ransom. His name still tasted sour on your tongue. But left a sadness over your heart like a sheer curtain. You had truly hoped he wasn't going to revert back to the beast that held you captive. But you were wrong, and post the revelation of the real reason he had taken you, he’d been far more brutal and cruel than he had with you before, something you’d thought was impossible. And he’d broken you for a second time, or so you’d let him think. Desperate to escape his clutches, you’d done the only thing you could- you’d killed him. Whilst you may not have held the knife, you’d arranged it all. And, even though it had been an absolute last resort, you’d be lying if you said there hadn’t been a satisfaction to watching him bleed out and choke on his own blood. The realisation that had clouded his arrogantly handsome features as he came to understand it was your doing would be forever etched into your brain. That said, it made you feel a little bit queasy when you thought about how taking someone’s life could make you feel a sick sense of pleasure. The nightmares had plagued you for months after. The torture which sleep brought you only ceased around the time things were settled within the system between you and his parents. With a deep sigh and the need for distraction, you set about some spot cleaning in between loads of laundry and by early afternoon you had settled in on your couch with a beer and your latest box set binge. Not two episodes in and your phone pinged next to you.

With a smirk, you snapped a photo of your beer bottle in your hand and a few moments later his response came through.

The angel made you laugh, a direct reference to his teasing before. But before you could reply, you got another text with simply saying “fuck it” along with a picture of a tumblr of whiskey on his desk. With a snort you replied

With a smile you tossed your phone down onto the seat beside you, and resumed your watching.

***** Andy was kidding when he playfully said he'd be there by 6:45, fully intending on their agreed upon 6:30. But, he was late. He'd been so involved with his brief that he'd lost track, and for the first time since meeting her, was late for a meet up with Y/N. She was fully understanding as he'd text her apologizing for the time as he'd rushed out of the office and quickly headed for Pearl Street. He'd gotten very lucky with close parking and literally stepped inside Oskar's Taproom promptly at 6:45. He found Y/N sitting at the bar, her hair down, a nicely fitted black tee and skinny denim jeans, her foot tapping against her bar stool in waiting. Next to her was an empty stool and a full, cold looking tall pilsner on the bar, saving his space.

"Hey," he said as he leaned into her, a gentle hand on her back, getting her attention.

Y/N startled a bit but realized it was Andy and grinned, "'bout time! I was going to get started on yours without you." She nodded to the cold beer.  “I’m so sorry.” He shook his head, “I just got caught up.” "Well, you haven't stood me up yet, so I trusted you'd show." “And I did tell you 6:45 before. You know, on account of you being a cheeky little shit.” She rolled her eyes at him, "whatever." She smirked. He slid onto the stool next to her and took a long pull of his beer, damned it tasted good. He gave an appreciative sigh and turned to her. “So, do anything much this afternoon?” "I did absolutely nothing, well nothing of importance. Talked to my mom, did laundry, you know nothing exciting." “To be honest, sounds like a pretty good afternoon.” He chuckled. “Sometimes there’s nothing better than laying in front of the TV with no where you have to be.” "Cheers to that," she raised her glass to him. He clinked his with hers and returned the smile she had. The blues band that was set to play happy hour was starting to tune up and it gave Andy an idea. "What do you say we find a spot in the patio, little less noise." “Sounds good.” She nodded. Andy flagged the bartender down for another round to take with them. But before Y/N could pick up her glass, Andy took it for her and gestured with her head for her to go on in front. She looked a little surprised at his act of basic good manners, and not for the first time. He'd often seen her look at him in a similar way when he held doors open for her or helped her with her jacket. It made him wonder what kind of asshole Drysdale had been. But, then again, he got the impression it hadn’t been a particularly happy relationship to start. Not that it was any of his business, nor was he one to talk. The last seven months he’d been married to Laurie had been as strained as they'd ever got. They found a spot at a two top near the corner of the patio at the gate that separated it from the sidewalk. Andy waited for Y/N to sit before he set their glasses on the high top table and took his own seat. "So...much better," he leaned in across the table. "Love this place, but it's not always the best for conversation." “Yeah but it has a good atmosphere.” She smiled. “I like it. Not the type of place that-“ she stopped dead and took a deep breath. “Doesn’t matter.” He half smiled, "you know, I've been meaning to tell you, it's okay to talk to me about anything you want. No pressure, no strings. Just a friendly ear." She smiled. “I know, thanks. And the same goes for you too.” For the first time, an interesting silence came between them. They each sipped their drinks in an almost a mirrored like fashion and chuckled when through. "I think that's the first time we've ever not had something to say." Y/N shrugged. He nodded, and then she took a deep breath. “I was just gonna say its not the type of place Ransom would ever have taken me. He’d have thought it beneath him.” "I think that's the first time you've ever mentioned his name." He pointed out. "Yeah, I try not to. It's uh," he watched her as she struggled to start her story, playing nervously with the earring in her ear. "Complicated." He leaned on the table, his forearms crossed and supporting his weight. He wanted her to know she had his full attention. “Well, from what I know about him, which granted is only what I saw on the news or heard around Boston, he certainly enjoyed the finer things in life.” "That's one way of looking at." She chuckled dryly. "It wasn't an easy marriage, despite how short lived." "Well, I was with Laurie since law school and we still had our ups and downs. I don't think marriage is easy in general." Andy admitted. "I was with Ransom less than nine months before we got married. It, uh, lasted three weeks."

Andy paused, “okay, so granted Laurie and I were a whirlwind what with her falling pregnant so fast but... I’ll give you that one.” “A whirlwind?” She asked and Andy nodded. “Yeah, we hadn’t even been together a year when she got pregnant with Jake. Not gonna lie, I shit myself but...” he sighed, swallowing. “Well, he was worth it.” "I'm sure he was." She nodded. Andy cleared his throat. “He was a good kid, despite what he, well what he was accused of.” “I can’t even begin to imagine how that felt, for any of you.” She said gently. “Fucking shit.” He said bluntly. She blinked and then the pair of them laughed quietly. "I'm sorry, Andy. And I mean that in all sincerity." He sighed and gave a soft little smile. “Thanks. You know, for the most part it’s just happy memories. But then sometimes it’s hard...” he trailed off shaking his head, “but of course you’ll know that.” “Suppose so.” She shrugged. “I doubt our marriage was anything near as loving as yours. I, uh...well, Ransom was mentally abusive, very controlling. Getting married wasn't exactly what I'd wanted but, I felt trapped in a way." She paused as he listened intently. "I guess it's harder to explain than I thought." She bit her lip and then shook her head. “Then the asshole went and got himself killed.” "I hate that you had to witness that." She shrugged and her finger swiped at the condensation on the outside of her half empty beer glass. “It was a year ago today.” “Jesus fucking Christ.” Andy shook his head in shock as he took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry.” “I’m not.” She sighed. “And I know that probably sounds awful but... I don’t mourn him, I can’t. Not after everything. I’m just glad to be away and out of it. Fuck, that makes me sound like a really cold hearted bitch.” She scrunched her nose and chuckled a bit. Andy cocked his head to one side, studying her face which was, despite what she said, laced with sadness and he took a deep breath. There was more to her story than she was telling him, he could see that, but he had his own secrets too. And he found himself realising he didn’t care. Moving away post the accident that claimed Jake and later Laurie’s life had been a way for him to leave all that shit behind. And she was trying to do the same. “Okay, let’s make a deal.” He leaned forward. “No reverse gear. We look forward and not back, at least not at the hard stuff.” It took a moment for her to process it, and Andy watched her expression behind her eyes as he did so. Then she smiled, "deal." Andy smiled as she reached for her beer. He watched her pretty face as she drained her glass, setting it down in the table before she leaned towards him. “Have you eaten? Because I’ve suddenly got a hankering for something greasy and very bad for me.” “Sounds like someone I used to work with.” Andy shot before he could stop himself and Y/N threw her head back in a loud laugh. “Lawyers for you.” “Hey, not all of us are jerks.” He pouted and she shrugged. “Jury’s out.” She winked. At that Andy raised his brows, downed the rest of his pint and then stood up. “Something dirty and greasy that isn’t an attorney coming up, I’ll grab us a menu.” They each ordered a greasy, filthy cheeseburger with all the fixings and two smaller beers a piece to go with it. They moved their conversation away from their pasts and talked music as the band played some songs they were familiar with. Y/N finding the perfect moment to joke with Andy again about his age versus hers, despite it being maybe seven or eight years. Neither seemed to mind.  Again, when the bill came, Andy slapped his card down before Y/N even had a chance to grab her wallet, which caused him to laugh loudly at her pout. “You’ll just have to get it next time.” “Oh," she smirked, "so that’s your game? You paid, so I owe you a next time?” He shrugged. “Would that be such a bad thing?” She bit her lip and grinned with a shake of her head. “No, not really.” “Good, I’ll hold you to that. And, as a lawyer I feel obliged to tell you that’s a legally recognised verbal contract.” “Uh, I’m sure there’s a rule that a social agreement made between friends is done so without an intention of being enforceable.” Y/N shot back and Andy felt his mouth curl up on a little surprised smirk. “Therefore no intent, no legal comeback. Your move, Counselor.” He laughed and shook his head. “Nope, I got nothing.” “In that case, I call recess.” She grinned. “Oh faahk off with the legal puns!” Andy snorted and once more she laughed as they stood up, their night at an end. He walked behind Y/N with a gentle hand on her back as she weaved through the tables on the patio, eventually ending up on the sidewalk out front.

"Thanks, for breakfast, dinner, drinks," Y/N shook her head, feigning annoyance. Andy smirked, "thanks for meeting me. You're not walking home are you?" "I can, it's not far." She replied, folding her arms over her chest.

"Absolutely not, I'll take you," he nodded his head in the direction in which his car was. He gave a small wink when she accepted his offer. He held the door open for you as you slid into the passenger seat of his Audi TT. You quickly realized that this was the first time you'd been in his car and the very first time he would see your doorstep. However, the thought of both those things didn't bother you one bit. In fact, you found yourself more comfortable than you'd expected.

All in all the drive was no more than five minutes, and if he hadn’t been going that way already, you’d have felt like a complete fraud, but he assured you it was on his way.

You helped yourself out but Andy waited for you around the front hood and walked you to your doorstep, lit by the lantern porch light your Home Owners Association contract insisted be up. "So, this is me," you sighed. Andy had his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans and he rocked a little on his heels as he waited for you to open your front door. When you'd opened it, he scratched behind his neck and said, "so I'll see you Monday?" "Yeah," you agreed. He turned to go but you called out to him, "Hey, Andy?" He quickly turned back to you, his one foot on your stoop, the other the next step down, "yeah?" In a sudden moment of courage, you stood on your toes and placed a soft kiss to his cheek. His smooth cheek and the slightly rough yet softer than anticipated scratch of those dark whiskers, intermittent speckled with auburn, felt amazing against your lips. And fuck, did he smell amazing. Which you knew already from the tight and friendly hugs he'd seemed to start giving you. The first hit of his aftershave was always the same, dominated by a white-out of bergamot and pepper, a bright flash of sweet, dewy citrus that is both crisp and clean, underpinned by a freshness that was both light and gentle and completely different to the heavy sandalwood based fragrance you’d grown so used to. It was brief, but when you pulled back, you gave a content huff, “Huh.” “What?” He was clearly puzzled. “Your beard. It’s kinda soft.” “What? What the hell did you expect?” He laughed. “I dunno, maybe a toilet brush type bristle.” “You kiss a lot of toilet brushes Y/N?” “Try not to.” She winked. “Thanks again, Andy. I enjoyed today.” He chuckled and shook his head as he watched you turn back to your door and finally stepped inside your home. Before you closed the door, you turned back, noticing he was watching you go in. "Bye."

"Goodnight, Y/N."

**** Chapter 2

[magicpumpkin3]

Returning of the Slav!MC that probably no one asked for-

Info→ here

Special guests→ @spiderling-space @nickson-lol

For my sake, let's name Slav!MC Slav.

Normal, boring history lesson. It's not that you didn't like history it's just....well you practically know nothing about this world. Those teachers gotta give you more credit. The fact that mirror in your room was acting up yesterday night and made you watch cartoons did not help you at all. While almost falling asleep, you didn't even notice that someone was calling out for you.

"Slav!" Jolting awake, you looked around, ready to punch anyone in the face who dared to disturb you... Only to realise that it was Professor Trein himself. "What gives you the idea that my class is your bedroom?" Asking mockingly, professor, slowly walked closer to the spot where you were sitting. "You, should pay more attention to the class then anyone, since you're not from here." Stopping right next to, whoever decided that sitting right in the very end if the auditorium was a good idea should perish on spot. "Since you allow yourself to sleep, I presume you know everything that I was talking about." Oh dear Lord, not the classic 'mockery of the class' move from the teacher. You already felt bad but damn! Day was just starting and it was starting great! By all the canons of the 'mockery of the class', professor will ask something that you most likely won't know how to answer. That motherfucker knows you can't and still will ask you, just for you to never fall asleep again. If only that idiot knew, you were used to those. It isn't the first time teachers used this strategy on you. Not in this world at least. "What does this ancient script say?"

Looking down at the spot were Trein pressed his finger to in the book, you see a classic Russian text. To be more specific, 20th century style of writing. Thank God the handwriting is readable. You have never thanked your overly obsessed with handwriting teacher so much in your entire life. After reading it, you let out a tiny wheeze, which seems to amuse professor. "For an ancient script it says it really simple thing. It's really just a soup recipe." Lifting your eyes up to look at your teacher, you were a bit surprised with how easy the task was, maybe Trein had a different tactic in his head? You were expecting a calm, a little tired, looking professor, only to be met with a really surprised teacher. A second of silence pass before Trein asked "You can read ...it?" Everyone in the class, went silent and looked at you. Everything felt too sharp and too bright. Looking at everyone really confused you nodded your head. "Of course I can read it, can't you?" Raising one brow, you scanned whole classroom with your eyes. Everyone looked at you, like you have just summoned the headmaster himself and proposed on one knee.

"No one can read it, Slav. It's a language that even those who lived thousands and thousands of years can't speak or read. It's the oldest language in the world. Those who possessed the knowledge to speak and read it are long dead..." Okay, not exactly the answer that you were expecting but... it's better then a bad mark that's for sure. Class fell to silence once again...Oh, ring is finally on! The lesson is over.

.

.

.

Headmaster was rubbing his temple. That stupid crow pretending like he was busy. "So, let me get this straight...Slav, can read and speak in the oldest language out there?" You slowly nodded your head. It was all bazaar and wierd to you. How? How could this happen? You assumed that no one knew your language but not to the 'dead language' point! Thinking it was just really unpopular here, no one really give a shit or something but certainly not this! "How can we be sure, that you didn't trick us? Maybe, you just didn't want a punishment?!" Oh please! You can take it. Everyone knew that! After telling them about your previous school or to be more specific, what memories you had left of it, everyone knew not to mess with you. Well, most of em. "Headmaster, with all due respect...Are on drugs?" You swear, you saw feathers on his coat...puff up? "What?! How da-"

"I did not finish." Looking at him or to be more specific you almost drilled holes in him with your classic heavy gaze or how you like to call it 'Monday' stare. "Do you really think, that I would say such an idiotic thing? Please, I'm not Grim. I would've calmly taken my punishment or whatever. It would be a really stupid move of me to pretend that I know something as this important, while I'm completely incompetent with the subject." One thing you and most Slavic people can do the best is the 'Monday' stare. It shows the most darkest souless and absolutely hopeless parts of the persons mind. The dark aura is just a bonus. "I may look like an idiot and be surrounded by those individuals but I'm certainly not one of them." After your speech, you made your stare less heavy and let poor headmaster relax a bit. "Okay, well,… can you read this text then?" Showing you a picture of a old looking scroll, Crowley looked at you expectantly. "I'm sorry headmaster but I can't read this one." True to your words. The text looked more like a wierd snake kind of like drawing made by a child or a Grims handwriting. "Why so?" You could almost see how that smug crow raised an eyebrow. "Because it's eather a different language or a child's attempt to copy someone's writings."

"Excellent! You have passed the test!"...Em, what? "I'm sorry I passed what again?" Looking at you, like you were an idiot here. "It's a different language, you were correct!" Silence fell in the office....Well this was awkward. "So, eh...what now?" Headmaster just shrugged his shoulders. "I'll just call a few people here and there and you'll probably be translating the ancient texts out there and maybe teach a few people the language. Nothing special really."

"I'm sorry...What the actual blayt' is happening here?"

Should I make another drabble/part of Slavs adventures?

[ac3id]

Hawk’s eye| 18+

pairings: hawks [keigo tamaki] x female! reader

summary: hawks is in his rut, desperate for some relief. his annoying secretary won’t stop irritating him so he decides to take his pent up frustrations on her.       ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

+

anonymous said:

hi!! so while the requests are still open, could you write some headcannons for Hawks x reader when he's in rut? maybe the reader is a bit clueless and doesn't even know he goes through stuff like that? dirty details are welcome 👀❤️

this was high-key inspired by @tainted-wine​‘s this fic. (i hope u like my take on it !! 💓) 

a/n: aaaa this took so much longer than i thought it would take 😭, also thanks @the-grimm-writer  for proof reading this! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) also this is porn w plot so if u just was to skip to da porn. skip to this ‘◌’ bhai 

ALSO THANKYOU FOR 900 FOLLOWERS LMAO WTF FOR REAL 😭

tagging: @lady-tokugawa-of-mikawa​, @koiibito​, @reinawritesbnha​, @shorkbrian​

warnings: noncon, hate fucking, one slap, she bites his dick at some point, scumbag hawks.

word count:  5862

navigation

The sound of your phone buzzing on the side table with a loud, irritating noise jolts you awake. You roll around on the bed, your fingers reaching to turn the vibrating device off. Groaning, you sit up straight. The warm mattress under you threatens to lull you back to sleep but you shove the thought away instead choosing to stretch your arms over your head and yawn endlessly. You were tired, so goddamn tired. Rubbing your temples lazily you start thinking about the dreadful day you have ahead of yourself. You think about your boss: Hawks, the man who makes you hate your life and job. He has trapped you into a never-ending nightmare which starts the second you open your eyes till the moment you fall asleep and even then he still manages to haunt you in your dreams. 

Cleaning up after his messes, obeying his ever so pliantly. He has turned you into his little pet slave. He says that it’s your job as you are his assistant, his little helper there to make his job a little less hectic. You must listen to his needs and wants and to some degree, you do agree with him: it is your job, it’s what you signed up for after all but you can also sense him misusing his title when he is with you. He never listens to your suggestions which results in him calling you late after work hours to help with his problems knowing damn well you had already warned him beforehand. And, oh his flirty, suggestive comments which borderline sexual harassment. Hawks is a difficult man to work with and you often find yourself wondering how much calmer your life would be if you never worked for him but you do not have that luxury of leaving the job. It pays ridiculously well and you have bills to pay, your family to support. No, you cannot afford to lose this job. So you sit through his torment and hope for the best.

Seconds later after you have gathered your will to live you start scrolling through your phone, skimming through the morning news lazily. Your eyebrows furrow and eyes turn into angry slits as you glance upon a displeasing, astonishing article.

 ‘No. 2 Hero Hawks spotted partying with strippers–’

Your heart stops for a moment.

What the fuck was this? 

You hesitantly read through the article, your heartbeat increasing every second that your eyes focus on the led screen, reading the details of the damned article. Eyes widening as panic settles in your nerves, you realize the gravity of the situation you had found yourself under as Hawks’ manager. Hawks had been spotted partying with strippers in a nightclub with a bunch of celebrities. The crazy stalker who had managed to follow him succeeded in capturing exclusive pictures of Hawks dressed in an expensive suit, his hair styled to perfection dancing under the dim lights of the club with women in basically their underwear shamelessly grinding upon him. You honestly couldn’t have given a single fuck about what Hawks did in his free time but since he had managed to get a paparazzi to tail him and now that his career was at risk; it became your problem. Your first and foremost instinct was to call Hawks and ask him what the hell he was thinking. Not being careful enough, he had managed to taint his entire reputation. The people of Japan now probably viewed him as a reckless party animal rather than the No. 2 Hero! 

Before you could call him, your phone’s screen lights up illuminating a contact you dread. ‘Hero Commission’ it’s written in bold letters, your face drops. Your fingers shake, filled with anxiety as you accept the call. Inhaling and exhaling, you try to calm your nerves. If it is a call from the Commission, you know it’s bad. Bad. 

You pick up the phone and instantly regret it, “What were you doing?” an angry, masculine voice snarls through the screen. You open your mouth to answer but are not given a chance too. “How did you let him go to a strip club during patrol hours?” you bite your lip thinking of an acceptable excuse, “He had to go there for work! It’s a misunderstanding. He went down to the strip club undercover to meet up with a crook to get some intel– that’s what he told me. This is a misunderstanding, I–” your explanation was cut short as the person on the other end of the call deemed it enough. “Whatever it is, fix it and never let this happen again.” he sneers a warning before cutting the call. It wasn’t a complete lie, Hawks did tell you that he was investigating a case on his own and that he would be gaining information from shady people but you did not expect him to go to a strip club out of all places. The worst part: he never even told you in detail anything about this case neither did he notice the paparazzi tailing his back. You sigh in frustration, rubbing your forehead, you quickly ring up his number only for it be sent right to voicemail. You almost scream. Where the fuck was this bastard?

Managing Hawks was not a walk in the park. The hero commission had sent you down especially to be Hawks’ secretary. You had a reputation: you were known to be responsible, diligent, and punctual. You were one of their best, entrusted with the responsibility to manage Hawks and you did a good job but it was Hawks who just made the job so hard. 

Creating problems he could never solve by himself; on lucky days you would get a call from him at three in the morning, him begging you to come to help him. You want to say no, deny him any help. Let him suffer by himself but you cannot do that. If he screws up and you are not there to fix it. You lose your job, you can’t afford that. You give your 100%, you do but it’s Hawks. He has a problem with you, well, he has a problem with everyone in the commission but projects it mainly at you. He does not respect you. 

He chooses to ignore your decisions and suggestions, diminishing them with a cruel chuckle, “Look, I need you but just not now.” He would say with an apologetic smile, “just let me work at my own pace, I will call when I will need you. After all, I love seeing your cute face.” You would always have to force yourself from not slapping his smug face before he took off into the bright, blue sky.

The truth untold, it wasn’t his fault completely either. He was just so fast. It was hard for anyone to keep up with him and since he did his job right; bringing peace to the nation you could not deem him worthless. But it still was a bother at times like this when you were left completely in the dark while Hawks ruined his hard-earned reputation. 

You got into the building earlier that morning to wait for Hawks in his office, you needed to talk to him. This was not his first mishap. Not long ago, another article about him shamelessly flirting with a fan had been published. It had said the fan was visibly uncomfortable with him but Hawks didn’t seem to care, he kept presting. You had managed to cover it up as the two being close friends who were publicly joking around, there was no real harm done. It was a lie though, you had to pay the fan a large check to keep her mouth shut. She accepted the money and the story was lost and forgotten but you had no idea how you were going to cover this hell up.

The clock struck nine as the day began, people rushing into the building all tensed but there was no sign of Hawks. You tried calling him on his number but the call directed to voicemail yet again. You were growing impatient, did something happen to him? Sure Hawks fucked things over sometimes but he never disappeared like this. It got you genuinely worried. Something horrible could have happened to him. After all, he was on a case. 

You waited for another thirty minutes and there was yet no sign of him. His sidekicks came knocking on his office door only to be surprised to see you there instead of their boss. You told them to continue with their day and not worry about Hawks, he was just awfully late. Not a big deal, he will be here soon. Soon. 

Another hour passed by, no sign of Hawks and about now your phone was blowing up with angry calls from his sponsors and business partners, screaming at the top of their lungs frowning upon the scandal. Heck, even Endeavor called you after he couldn’t reach Hawks himself. The call made you nervous as anxiety crept in yet again. Hawks wasn’t answering to Endeavour something bad must have happened. Getting tired of the wait, you make up your mind to drop by his penthouse and to go see him for yourself. His silence was driving you crazy and worried at the same time, you just hoped he would be there well and safe. You could not imagine the ruckus that would create if something were to happen to him. 

You walked out of his office after waiting for an hour. Rushing down to the basement you got into your car and before driving away to his house. Just before leaving, you decided to test your luck by calling him. Hoping, praying he would answer this time and luckily he did .

“Hawks!” you cried, a wave of relief washing over you, “Where are you? What are you doing?” you began pestering him with questions, not letting him answer even once. Hawks, tired of waiting,  interrupted your monologue of questions with a chuckle. “Aw, you’re worried about me, baby?” his tone was low and mischievous, the sentence slurring almost into a moan at the last word. You rolled your eyes and clenched your fists in irritation, you weren’t new to his teasing. Hawks thought it was appropriate for him to casually flirt with his secretary. Send unasked comments about your figure, perverted implications about what he would do to a ‘cute little thing like you’ which made you very uncomfortable being around him at times. But it wasn’t that what made him get on your last nerves. It was the fact that he could even think about joking at a time like this which made you furious. 

You screamed into the phone, giving him a piece of your mind. Degrading him for not taking care of himself, complaining about how he had managed to put you in such a tight spot. 

“Once again I am asking, where the fuck are you. Hawks?” you ended your speech with spite in your words. Hawks sighed, “I am in the office,” he says your name with an edge in his voice, instantly shutting you down, “Where the hell are you?” The smugness in his tone remains and you can tell he is smirking on the other side of the screen as if he’s won. You hang up abruptly before walking out of your car and into the building, hurriedly making your way towards Hawk’s office. 

You slam the door open glaring upon hawks as he sits behind his table. Dirty boots resting pliantly on the shiny, polished wood. His wings out, stretched to their fullest, filling up the room standing on high alert. They have a deeper hue to them, they look darker– a darker red. How did that happen? You find yourself wondering. Is he on drugs? His face is tilted upwards, facing the ceiling. Eyes screwed shut. They open as he hears you enter and walk towards him, his wings falling back behind him calm and collected. 

“You’re late,” he says with a smirk, you bang your fist on the table beside where his feet rest, making him flinch and bring them down instinctively. His eyes widened in shock, he was not expecting you to be this furious. Sure, he knew he knew he had gotten you mad but he was not expecting you to be this angry. Without any hesitation, you start scolding him again. He watches you ramble in ominous glee. A poker face masking his expression, he watches you trot about how much trouble he is in. His job is to protect meek and weak citizens who cannot fight for themselves, what he was doing in a strip in the name of business is something you cannot grasp your head around. You repeat your lecture which you had already tortured him over the phone while the entire time Hawks drums his fingers underneath the table, waiting for you to get over with your dumb speech. His eyes trail on your lips, watching it move. Plump, pillow-like features tinted dark red ramble on about how much of an irresponsible person he was. Complaining about how much trouble he puts you through daily. Honestly, he doesn’t quite catch what you were saying. His mind busy imaging you shutting the fuck and letting him get through the day– or better yet how pathetic you would look underneath him while he shoves his dick down your throat. The thought makes his cock throb. His eyes change from an unbothered, bored look to something sinister as they start trailing all over your body. His eyebrows slightly furrow as he catches up on the few degrading terms you throw at him. 

You talked too much. Way too much, do you realize how much better you would look if you keep your pretty, little mouth shut? The entire time, it’s always: Hawks don’t do this, Hawks don’t do that. Don’t you ever get tired? He wonders whether your dumb little brain had any thoughts other than the ones which tell you to irritate him all the time. You should shut up, really stop talking. He might do something bad, he’s already stressed enough as it is being in his rut and having no way to relieve himself, he is going through a rough time here. The other night he escaped to a strip club in hopes of relieving some stress and it had worked but it had also brought along a mind splitting scandal.

The entire morning, Hawks was busy avoiding people. Whether it be his fans, reporters, or even someone he knew; he paid no mind to them trying to get to the office as soon as possible to deal with the mess he had created.

It wasn’t his fault entirely, he was in his rut and needed sexual relief which he was finding very hard to receive. With his work piling up and you breathing down his neck, he couldn’t even take represents as they slowed him down. He couldn’t risk falling asleep on duty. A stupid, little headline about what he does in his free time was much more favorable than a failed mission in which he would let countless innocent lives slip by his fingers. 

He watches you ramble, his eyes trailing over your body locking on your tits. He stares at them intensely, watching them bounce slowly every time you huff out of irritation and frustration. Your work shirt works him favors, the white almost translucent material shows off the slightest shadow of your black, lacy bra. It’s enough to get him going- imaging how your soft mounds would feel in his hands. How you would whimper under his touch as he tugs and pulls on your perky nipples, you probably wouldn’t sound as monstrous as you do right now. Your moans would be girlish, small whimpers would leave your lips as you would try your best to cover them up. You would try to hide your face under his assault but he wouldn’t let you, pinning you down instead and forcing himself on you while you cried for him to stop. Beg for his mercy. 

He can feel his jeans tighten. 

“So please, Hawks. Just be a little more responsible.” you finish, your voice turning into a plea. He hums and apologizes for his impulsive thinking, like always, he is not sorry. “Let's fix this mess, what do you say?” he asks with an apologetic grin, trying to be polite. You on the other hand don’t even spare him a glance, walking right out the door instead. It leaves him very offended. 

◌

“Ah! What a troublesome day it was,” Hawks chimes in walking into his office with you closely following behind, “It was all your fault.” you spit making hawks chuckle, “Whatever happens, happens for the good.” he says, a scoff leaves your lips, “What was good about that?” you ask annoyed. “I get to have you alone with me now~” Hawks winks at you making you roll your eyes dramatically. Both of you stand together in Hawks’ office after hours. The day is done, everyone in the agency building has taken their leave excluding the two of you. It had been a long day fixing up after Hawks. You were tired and all you wanted was a warm bath and some sleep. 

“Do you want to know why it happened?” Hawks asks out of the blue, “What happened?” you question, “Why was I at the strip club?” you sigh, “I don’t give two shits about your personal life, Hawks.” replying sternly. A look of disappointment arises on his face, “It’s actually more than that, really, I u-uh have this condition- it gets very hard to work during these times-”

 “What are you even talking about?” You interject confused and clueless. You turn to him, a glare evident on your face you stare at him sheepishly. What was he on about now?

“I am serious, I went into my rut, and that's why I went to the strip club-” “Into a what?” Hawks’ eyes widened, were you really that clueless? “A rut, [y/n],” he says like it is a matter of fact, something everybody is aware of. “A rut. You know like how some animals go into heat and they-” your face scrunches as he explains his rut to you, you visibly grow more and more repulsed. Hawks studies you face, his heart genuinely breaking at your expressions. “Why are you telling me this?” you screech, “jeez Hawks, I did not need to know any of that!” you continue. 

Hawks is hurt, he accepted a reaction which showed more concern. Maybe he went a bit too far imagining that you would offer him help but seeing you so disgusted by him shattered his heart and made him lose all his respect for you. You were a terrible human being, no different from those villains he put behind the bars every day. “I am telling you all of this because- this actually happens!  Many- fuck- millions of people like me actually suffer from this shit! You should be a little more emphatic.” he reasons. He accepts you to understand at least now but you gloriously manage to disappoint him yet again. A rude snarl leaves your lips followed by a scoff, “What are you really trying to tell me Hawks? That you don’t want to do your job and to justify your laziness; you are making lame excuses now?” you shove a finger to his chest, it pushes him off the edge. 

Something in his snaps, he looks down where your fingertip touches his chest. You are smaller than him, he’s at least a foot bigger than you. Where does your bratty, puny self get all this confidence from? His eyes darken as something sinister floats within him. He stares down at your finger, wanting to rip it off. He wants to see you cry. He wants to see you in pain and misery, suffering a great deal while nobody comes to help you. 

“Hawks, you know what? I am so done with your bullshit. I am leaving.” You turn away from him, heading to the door but before you could move a step. Hawks grabs you by writs, caging your delicate hand into a bone-crushing death grip, “What the fuck?” you question, “Hawks?” you continue. You wait for his response, turning to him. He is facing the floor, his hair scanning over his eyes making it impossible for you to read his expression, not that you could read what was going on with him normally but now; it’s even harder. “Are you going to let go?” you ask again only to be met by him squeezing your wrists even tighter. You bring your other hand over him to pry yourself free from his clutches but he doesn’t want to let go. 

“Hawks wha-” you don’t get to complete your statement as Hawks pushes you down on the floor making you fall on your butt. You let out a loud hiss. You frown, yelling out “What is wrong with you!?” You try to stand back up but his hands settle on your shoulder pushing you back down. You try fighting but it’s to no use. Did you forget he is the no. 2 Pro- Hero? He is much stronger than you, he brings down villains twice his size daily. What makes you think your weak kicks and punches will be enough to beat him? 

You keep struggling under him, screaming how you were going to report him and ruin his career, how he is going to be sorry for messing with you.

 “Shut. Up.” he finally speaks, he brings his gloved hand to your perfectly styled hair. Pulling tightly on your roots he stretches your face upwards, making it easier for him to look down on you while you cry in agony, “Stop crying.'' His voice is deep and raspy, much different from how he usually talks. You look up at him, fear swimming in your eyes as tears prick at the corners of your sockets, lips trembling. If you already weren’t terrified enough, your horror becomes tenth fold when you see his boner raging in his pants, “Come, on. Hawks..” your voice is small and weak, it's a broken cry. You know what he is going to make you do. He was going to violate you, break you beyond repair. 

This was so wrong. As much you hated Hawks, you never would have thought he would do something like this. Hawks was a hero. He is meant to fight for justice, punish evil. Why is he doing this? “Hawks no. Please. Was it something I said? I take it back I didn’t mean it-” 

“You know, y/n, you are not so different from those villains yourself,” if looks could kill, you would be dead. The pure, anger, and hatred he looks at you with bothers you. It makes you hate yourself, there is something sinister in his eyes which makes you sure about the fact that he is not afraid of hurting you. He has given up on you, after all, his polite gestures, generosity you always ignored- he’s fed up with your sheer ignorance and your ego. He hates you. He does and heck if he wasn’t in his rut; he would never bring his dick anywhere near you. He does not respect you as a human and in no way does he have any romantical attachment to you. All he ever saw was a walking alarm clock, bugging him every second, and now all he is going to see you as is his cocksleeve whom he can stuff his fat cock into whenever and however he seems fine. To him you are just a walking hole he can ruin whenever he wants to, you have managed to get on his bad side and he is going to show you his bad side.

He undoes his belt, his pants falling to his thighs displaying his expensive boxers and his growing hardness. His cock is throbbing within its confines, fighting desperately to come free. His free hand pulls his boxers down and his cock springs free, hitting his abdomen. It stands long and hard, the tip blushed red and angry, tiniest bit of pre-cum spilling sweetly from his slit. He pumps his cock in his hand before forcing it against your mouth, pressing it to your lips smearing his pre all over your lips. You whimper in protest, moving your head the littlest you can under his tight grip. “Bitch open up. You had this coming for a long time,” his dick slaps your cheek while his fingers try to pry open your mouth. Pushing his gloved digits forcefully into your mouth, the rough fabric feels disgusting on your tongue. His fingers capture the lower part of your jaw, tearing your mouth apart with deranged strength. A loud cry escapes from you as he stuffs your empty mouth full of his cock, “Yeah, that’s more like it. Fuck.” he bottoms out into your throat, his shaft hitting the back of your throat making you gag, “get on with it. A slut like you would have the experience, right?” he taunts you. You do as he says, puckering your lips firmly around his length, your hands resting on his exposed thighs while you stroke him with your tongue. You feel his chiseled thigh muscles flex under your fingers as he melts in pleasure, tiny moans leaving his lips shamelessly. 

As Hawks drowns in overwhelming pleasure, a criminal idea crosses your mind. Your eyes trail up to his face. His eyes are screwed close, he bites his lower lip softly. Carefully and slowly, you graze your teeth over his cock. Clamping down on it lightly, you hold your position. Your heart beats faster when Hawks stiffens and in a quick flash, he pushes you off his cock throwing you into the ground before backing up, squealing in pain.

 “YOU LITTLE BITCH!” he screams, you sprint to the door. Trembling fingers try to unlock the doorknob while Hawks cries in agony behind you. You can feel him loom behind you, ready to come for your neck. A part of you tells you that you will not make it but the adrenaline rushing in your veins calls to be hopeful. Just open the door and just run. 

Your cold, quivering fingers almost unlock the heavy wooden door but before you can push it open. Hawks appears right behind you, pushing his body onto your back. You feel his cock poking at your ass, his hand grabs your head pulling you, prying you off the door. You scream and cry trying to break free, grabbing his hand clawing on it to let you free. Hawks chooses to show no mercy as he drags you by your hair to his desk, your scalp hurts from his grip. You can feel tiny strands breakaway. He turns you around and slams your back to his wooden desk, you whimper at the contact. He stands in front of you, pressing his knee between your thighs. His hand reaches out to pull at your collar, forcing you to look at him. 

He is livid, eyebrows furrowed with a death glare his jaw clenched, and his eyes darker than you have ever seen before. He looks at you with murderous intent, you think he might as well kill you with his wings flared open. The feathers turning into knives, you beg for your life. 

Hawks observes your face. Broken, scared for your life your eyes are glassy, ridden in fear your makeup smeared all over your face. He thinks it's beautiful, he has finally got you begging for mercy, finally thinking of him as the man he is. He appreciates your submission but it does not erase the fact that you just bite oh his dick. You beg for mercy, your voice is small and broken. It comes barely above a whisper, “I am so sorry hawks, please don’t do this.” He doesn’t listen, staring at you head-on with his jaw clenched. He brings his free hand to the air, keeping it steady for a second before bringing it down with a horrendous force. You feel it before it happens; white, hot flashing pain erupts through your cheek stinging you hard. You cry out in agony as your face drops to the other side. The strike was powerful, it left you sore, you can still feel it sting your face. It leaves you swollen, you try to bring your hand up to your face lightly to carcasses you paining cheek but Hawks pushes your face on the wooden desk before you could, trapping your arms behind your back holding it with one hand. “You don’t realize your position, do you? You know what? I was going- planning to be gentle with you. I thought I would at least make you cum but now,” he pulls a feather out his wings preceding to tear open your pencil skirt with the sharp end. The ripped fabric falls to the ground leaving you in your panties and the pantyhose you always wear under your skirts, “There we go. I hope you are a pain slut, otherwise you would really not enjoy this.” he says with a small chuckle before ripping you out of your bottoms, leaving you in your panties completely vulnerable to him. He abandons his gloves, rubbing his fingers on your clothed cunt roughly trying to gather slickness from your dry hole. Pleasure shoots down your body as his digits find your clit, rubbing tight circles on the little pearl, “Does this feel good? You are getting wet.” a smirk scars his face, “Who gets off to being raped?” he says sharply. Your face scrunches up in disgust and embarrassment. A heavy lump forms in your throat and the waterworks that you had been holding off burst open. Big, fat tears roll down your cheeks as you cry for mercy. You didn't know why this was happening to you, for your entire life you had been a nice person: always helpful, sensitive, and kind. At least, that was what you thought yourself to be. Never in a million years could you- or anyone, in fact, could have ever thought that you would be crying pathetically while your boss: a person known to all as a Hero, the truest, most honest person to exist ever would be the one defiling you, tearing you down to nothing just for his pleasure. 

“Shut up, you like this.” He snarls at you, so sick of your loud wails he even shoves two fingers inside your mouth plunging them to the back of her throat, “Don’t you dare bite now, slut.” he warns. His fingers stop prodding at your clit when he notices the wet spot forming on your panties, he wastes no time shimming them down to your ankles, whistling when he sees your glistening pussy. You only wail louder pleading him not proceed any further. Hawks turns a blind eye to all your begging, “I should just shove it in, right?” he asks petting his finger over your hole, “but that won’t be fun,” he snickers. You feel his move away from your cunt and move higher. Panic settles, he couldn't be serious, “Hawks. Please no. Please don’t. I don-” finger rims along your asshole, inching to dip in, “What? Don’t want me to fuck your ass?” he spanks your ass hard making you flinch, “Please I’ve never-” you cry out hoping he would understand, “No one’s ever fucked you in the ass before?” you whine at the lewd words which shamelessly fall from his lips, “Guess there’s a first for everything.” he says with a scoff. 

His digits bury into your hole, stretching you out in a way you’ve never felt before. The stretch burns, filling a fresh set of tears rolling down your eyes, smudging your mascara and eyeliner You looked like a whore. He keeps hammering his fingers inside you without mercy, a loud whine leaves your lips as you feel a tingle of pleasure from him hitting the right spot. “Do you like that? Too bad, this isn’t for you.” he moves his fingers from you before lining his fat cock to your almost too tiny hole, “How will this fit?” he laughs to himself, pressing his engorged tip in slowly, “Will be a tight fit,” he continues to shove his cock into your hole, his face turns off one to ecstasy as your walls take him inch by inch. You scream in pain, his cock was much bigger than his fingers. It was stretching you out, numbing your mind and soul, you did not know how much more you could take. Salty tears fell from your eyes as Hawks bottomed himself in you, he waited for a moment before starting to thrust into you unforgivingly. Dragging his fat cock out and your walls pulling him right back in. As he kept ramming into you. Slowly, you start to pleasure tingle up your spine as his tip smashed against the right spots. Your cries of pain turn to pleasurable moans. Hawks wastes no time in teasing you, “Look at you moaning like a slut,” he spanks your ass with swift force sending your rear to sting. You feel unbearable pleasure starting to build up in your abdomen, a straining coil wanting to burst which each of Hawks’ strong thrusts yet it is left unfilled as the simulation is not enough to make you cum from all alone. Hawks notices this, the pitiful crying for him to touch your swollen little clit which was begging to be played with. He almost thought he would give it to you, after all, he was a good person. Almost. 

Hawks just snicker, his cruel, sadistic laugh echoing in the room, “No, no, no.” he teases, “no matter how much you cry, baby. I am not letting you cum. This is your punishment, you deserve this. You’ve been a bad girl.” Hawks couldn’t formulate how he was able to form complete sentences. The moment he had caught you, he had let himself go feral. Dragging you down like a predator, he finally had you under him. He kept grunting and breathing profanity down your ear along with shameful praises about how well your slutty ass takes him. He is glad he is finally getting his much-deserved relief but he is not done yet. He won’t be done until he is filling your vulnerable womb with his seed, he won’t be done until he hears you asking him to give you his children. He is not going to leave you be until he has destroyed you, balls deep in your tiny pussy. He is going to keep you here all night fucking you, he is going to stay there all night fucking you with hate which he has buried within himself for you over the years. He is going to melt you in his hand, break you until only he can build you up, and maybe he will not let you go even after that. Maybe he will keep you after all hawks mate for life. 

Just hope he lets you cum the next time. 

[babbushka]

please can i have 9 from the nsfw prompts with pale please;)

2.2k, NSFW (rough sex at the dinner table, naked woman clothed man spanking, PIV, fingering, dirty talk)

The first time you sigh, Pale doesn’t think anything of it. You sighed sometimes, for lots of different reasons. Not everything had to fuckin’ mean something. It was a lovely evening, Pale was home early from work, you had the day off so he gave you some money so you could pamper yourself from head to toe, he cooked up a big delicious dinner -- if he says so himself, which he does -- and he even turned on the stereo set to play some soft music while you both ate.

The second time you sigh, Pale debates bringing it up. But then he figures nah, you’re the type of woman that says what’s on her mind. You don’t dilly dally around your opinions like some of these other broads do, trying to get their men to guess at what’s botherin’ them. No, that isn’t your style, not usually anyway.

“Alright,” He levels you a look, setting his fork down on the third time that you sigh, eventually giving into the bait and asking, “What’s the fuckin’ matter with you?”

Your eyes widen at the sharpness of his voice, and it’s then that Pale realizes maybe you didn’t know you were makin’ all them huffing puffing sounds as you pushed your dinner around your plate.

“Nothin’!” You frown, shruggin’ with one of your shoulders in that way of yours that meant something was definitely wrong. “Nothin’s the matter. It’s just...”

“Just what, c’mon, spit it out sweetheart you know I can handle it whatever it is.” Pale steels himself for something disastrous, holds his breath.

“You didn’t fuck me this morning.” You announce, sounding halfway between sad and annoyed, and if Pale had been chewing anything, he’d be choking.

“What?” He stares at you with a frown, and you shrug again, waving your hand around, sounding too much like your feelings are hurt when you explain;

“This morning. You left, without wakin’ me up, you know. Without givin’ me a good morning.”

Pale wracks his brain, because that didn’t sound right. That didn’t sound like Pale, not fuckin’ you or at the very least makin’ out with your cunt before he had to go to work. But then, oh right, he remembers that he had to leave too early, and wanted to be sweet to you for once, wanted to let you get your rest. Especially because,

“The last time I woke you up on your day off, you threatened to scratch my eyes out with your nails.” He reminds you, pointing the fork in your direction, belatedly noticing, “Which look real good by the way, I like that color.”

“Thank you I got them done before lunch, I thought I’d try somethin’ new out.” You brighten up for a moment, holding your hand out properly for him to take a good look at, before sighing again, “But you didn’t fuck me, and I’ve been thinkin’ about it all day.”

Raising your brows at him from across the table, he catches the desperation in your voice. That was the edge he had heard: you were hungry, but not for dinner.

“Oh, I see.” He pushes himself back from the table then, real slow-like.

It’s an invitation, one that you take immediately. Standing up from your chair, your hand trails along the table-cloth as you round the corner and settle yourself between his spread legs. From here, Pale can appreciate the tight, short dress you’ve got on, the gold chain around your throat, the diamonds in your ears. You look like a million’ fuckin’ bucks, and he’s hard in his pleated trousers because you’re all his.

“Do you?” You whisper, your voice gone all sultry as you bite at your lip. “Do you really? Because it’s real mean to make a girl wait all day long, especially when she looks like this.”

Tantalizingly slowly, you reach behind yourself and grasp at the little zipper that holds your dress up, tugging it down down down, the dress loosenin’ around your body and fallin’ to the floor as it goes.

“Are you asking me to fuck you stupid right here?” Pale’s gaze immediately goes to your breasts, his hands rushin’ up to give them a firm squeeze, thumbs rubbin’ circles over your nipples as they stiffen against the cool night air, “Is that it?”

“I’m not askin’.” Your eyes glint.

With one quick movement, Pale’s surging up to kiss you, hot and heavy right on your mouth, messing up your pretty lipstick, smudging and smearing it all around. And then as quickly as he’s there, he’s pulling away, turning you around and bending you over the table at a nice clean spot that doesn’t have any dishes, kickin’ your feet apart.

He doesn’t waste time shoving one of his hands between your legs, because of course you ain’t wearin’ any panties, of course not -- why would you when it’s just the two of you here in his apartment?

“Christ look at how wet you are baby, been wet for me all fuckin’ day huh? Did you touch yourself and think of me? Think of how I can do it so much better for you?” He drapes his body over you, relishes in the way your ass is already pressing against the hard line of his cock in his trousers.

Pushing his pointer and middle finger all the way up into your pussy, it’s all you can do to gasp out a moan and clutch at the tablecloth. He wishes he could watch the way his fingers disappear into you, but he’s glued to your back and biting sucking licking at your exposed shoulder, drinking in the sound of your moans and that’s good enough for now.

“Yes!” You push your hips back back back against his hand, grinding down as they crook and curl up inside you, searching for that special spot that has stars dancing behind your eyelids, “Fuck I love your fingers, you make me feel so good Pale.”

“My little slut can’t go one day without somethin’ up her cunt, ain’t that right. I’m sorry sweetheart, I shoulda known better, shoulda given you somethin’ to hold you over ‘til I came back. But I’m here now, I’ll take care of this pussy just the way you need.” With his other hand, Pale fumbles around with his belt buckle, wrenching it open so that he can yank down his zipper and fish out his cock.

“Please! It’s no fun comin’ when you ain’t here.” You moan as he slips in his ring finger too, the stretch of all three making your knees turn in, your thighs shake.

“That’s what I like to hear baby, spread your fuckin’ legs for me.” Pale grunts, and you do as he says, knowing you’ll get the best fucking of your life for it -- because that’s what every time you have sex with Pale feels like.

Barely the tip is in before you’re already having to take deep breaths, having to steady yourself and open up your hips, because of how fucking huge his cock is. You’d been together for damn near two years, and it still always came as a surprise. He rubs the head of his cock through your soaked folds, and even though he fingered you open, it’s still an effort to thrust himself in, his cock so big that if you didn’t know you could take it, you might panic.

“Shit you’re tight, damn, relax for me, one day without my dick ain’t an eternity, your pussy remembers, just relax.” He’s right there, draped over your back again, his mouth right on your ear as he coaxes you and soothes you, and he’s right, even though it doesn’t feel like it.

“It feels like an eternity! Oh fuck, yes Pale, keep goin’ please, please I want more.” You moan when your body listens, when you let your hips widen, your legs spreading even further, thighs already shaking and toes already curling as he manages to push in deep deep deep -- bottoming out with only a few more thrusts.

And then, once it’s in, Pale’s pulling out -- thrusting back into you so hard that the sound of your moan is swallowed by the scrape of the table against the floor, as he builds up a brutal rhythm that has you holding on for dear life, your mouth dropped open from pleasure.

“Got you trained for my cock don’t I? Ruined you for everythin’ else, just my girl. Goddamn you’re beautiful. You know I don’t get to see your back all that fuckin’ often?” With his fingers pulled out of your pussy, Pale keeps one hand on your hip to steady you, and slaps your ass hard with the other one, the sound of sweaty skin smacking together going straight to his cock.

“Yeah ‘cause I’m always layin’ on it.” You laugh brightly, the tail end of it dissolving into a throaty moan that has Pale sweating in his fuckin’ dress shirt, has him biting down against your shoulder, marking you up.

“When’s the last time I told you you’re perfect?” He grunts as he thrusts into you hard hard hard, fast and steady, his cock pulling out and then slamming right back in, slapping your ass again so hard that you’re keening, that you’re shouting out his name.

“Pale! Tell me again anyway -- oh! Oh right there, fuck, oh my god!” Your shoulders jolt and shiver, because he’s found the spot his fingers had missed, and he’s got to press you back down onto the table when you try and snap up from the surprise of it.

“That’s it baby feel how deep I am inside of you, I’ll treat you right, make you come so hard.” Pale pets back your hair as he grinds his cock into your pussy, his dick hard and throbbing inside the tight clutch of your velvety walls.

You’re getting fucked so hard that your feet are barely on the floor anymore, legs kicking up from the sheer overwhelming sensation of being so full.

“Yes!” You moan, clenching and squeezing around him, wanting to give as good as you get, “Yesyesyes, more Pale, harder I can take it.”

“That’s fuckin’ right you can, my best girl, fuck, fuck you’re so good on my cock, I could live here, right inside this pretty pussy that’s all for me, feelin’ you come again and again. You want that? Want to be my little cockwarmin’ slut forever?” He grunts, punctuating his sentences with slaps to your ass, licking up your cheeks where tears have spilled over, your chest heaving against the table, begging for more.

“Yes!” You keep pushing back against him, chasing the feeling, hot pleasure coiling up inside your stomach, rising on the edge of tipping over, you’re so close, just a little more, that’s all you’ll need -- and Pale knows it.

“Gonna come all over me?” He asks, but it’s more of a plea, and he kisses at your throat as he fucks you through your tears.

“Y-yes!” Your body is pinching up then, and you’re hiccuping around a moan, and your pussy throbs and pulses around him as you shout, “Oh fuckfuckfuck -- !”

“Attagirl.” Pale doesn’t let up even as you come, even as the slick drips down your thighs, soaks into his trousers. The hand that’s resting on your hip reaches around and toys with your swollen clit, making you whine out his name, “That’s okay baby keep sayin’ my name, let the neighbors know who’s treatin’ you right.”

“Pale...! Pale oh -- oh I’m --!” You shudder again, whole body goin’ through it, as pleasure crashes through you hard, hard enough to pull Pale over the edge too, and he presses you against the table a little more forcefully under the weight of his own body going limp on top of you.

After a moment, when you’ve both had the chance to catch your breath, he blindly reaches behind him until his hand manages to grasp his chair, and then he’s sitting back down onto it, taking you with him.

You look like a fucking mess, completely glassy-eyed and smiling like the cat that got the damn cream, and Pale doesn’t want you anywhere or anyway else all night, saying as much, “You better just sit here for the rest of the night.”

“Oh yeah?” You giggle, love drunk in the best way, your bones like jello.

“Yeah, it’s safer here.” He kisses your cheek, wishes he had a cigarette to light up. He could go get one from his jacket pocket, but then he’d have to get up, and there’s no fucking way he’s doing that.

“Okay. But my dinner’s over there.” You protest, settling firmly on his cock that’s still hard, still pumping you full of his load.

“Yeah well, shoulda fuckin’ thought about that before you decided to go and be a brat.” Pale sighs, making you lightly swat at his chest. “Alright alright alright, you can have some of mine.”

Brightening up at that, you reach for his fork that had gotten all jostled in the meanwhile, and reach out to pluck something off his plate, being nice enough to let him have the first bite, before eating the rest.

“And then when we’re done eatin’, I’ll fuck you again. Ya know, for good measure.” Pale licks across his teeth, making you grin, because as far as you’re concerned, he’s got a whole day to make up for.

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

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Tagging some Pale loving friends!

[ginnympotter]

call it even

Chapter 1: you’ll always know me

A/N: This is the first chapter of a 2 (or possibly 3? who knows) chapter Muggle AU fanfic inspired by tis the damn season and dorothea by taylor swift hehe hope you like it :) You can also read it on AO3 here.

She felt a tap on her shoulder and took a deep breath. It was way too early in the morning, she had just gotten off a long flight where she barely slept a wink, and she just didn’t have it in her to talk to any fans without the coffee she was impatiently waiting for at the LAX Starbucks.

But she turned around anyway, bracing herself, and then saw a face that jolted her so much she supposed she wouldn’t need the coffee anymore. “Harry?”

“Hey, Ginny,” he smiled. Harry Potter was standing in front of her for the first time in almost a year, looking as handsome as ever. He was tired, his green eyes looking glazed behind his glasses, his hair pointing in all directions- though she could tell he didn’t try to comb it- wearing the grey-blue sweater she knew her Mum bought him years ago.

Without really thinking about it, she moved forward and hugged him, throwing her arms around his neck, and he put his around her waist and hugged her back, but he also let go first.

“What are you doing here?” she asked incredulously, trying not to think too hard about him breaking the embrace before she could.

“My students had a tournament against a school out here,” he explained. “We lost though.”

“I’m sorry,” she offered.

“Oh, don’t be, I don’t mind. But the kids all seem like they’re going to jump out of the plane before we can make it home. I was up until 2am consoling the quarterback. My assistant coach is talking them all down now out there while I grab us coffee.”

She nodded, biting her lip. And then blurted out, “Why didn’t you call?” At Harry’s confused look, she added, “to tell me you were in L.A.?”

He cleared his throat, and Ginny saw a light blush creep up his neck. “Well, I knew you were away for your match. I caught some of it, you played great, as always.”

“Oh,” she responded, feeling stupid. She sometimes forgot that as a member of the U.S. Women’s Soccer team her schedule was often public knowledge. She felt a tug at her heart thinking about Harry still supporting her after all this time. “Right, thanks. I wish I could’ve shown you around the city. Did you like it here?”

He shrugged. “Not bad, but big cities aren’t really my style. You know that,” he ended, a solemn note in his voice. “Have you been enjoying it out here?”

She mirrored his shrug. “It’s fine, I suppose. I like the weather, if that counts.”

“Nothing else?”

With most people she’d probably just lie and say she loved it, but with Harry she had a bad habit of always being blunt. “The traffic here is worse than what they warn you about, and honestly, it’s hard to make friends when it seems like everyone just wants to use you for your fame- or for the more famous people that you know.”

“Well, if you’re ever tired of being known for who you know, you know you'll always know me.” Harry offered her a sad smile. “I’m always a call- or a FaceTime- away. Not that a tiny screen is my ideal way of seeing you, but better than nothing.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond right away, as she could feel her whole body burning up and her throat closing. There was so much in the air between them. But the barista called out a cold brew, and at the same time they both said, “oh, that’s me,” then looked at each other and laughed. The first one had Ginny’s name on it, the one that followed five seconds later had Harry’s.

They walked away from the coffee pick-up area together, and Harry checked his watch. “Well, we have to board soon. I’m sorry this is the only way we got to see each other.”

“I’ll be home for Christmas,” Ginny told him in response. She originally didn’t plan on reaching out to him when she got back home, because she knew her brother and Harry’s best friend Ron would just tell him, and if he wanted to see her he could make that decision for himself. But suddenly this became information that she couldn’t hold in.

“Oh,” responded Harry, running his free hand through his hair. Her heart fluttered at that motion, as she knew what it meant- that he was nervous in a good way. “Well, that’s great! Let me know when you plan on getting in, I’d love to catch up, properly.”

“Yeah, me too,” she said, the sincerity spilling out against her will. She never could truly play it cool with him, not even when they were kids. She hugged him again, smelling home lingering on his sweater. “I will. Have a safe flight, Harry.”

His grip on her was tighter this time, even with coffee in hand, than the last. “You too,” he replied. And then stiffened and let go. “I mean, you already had your flight, so that made no sense. Have a safe...cab ride home, I suppose?”

Ginny laughed at his stumbling. “I’ll do my best.”

He smiled, raising a hand in a small wave as he walked back towards his students. “See you later, Gin.”

She returned the smile and watched him reach his students. She noticed one of them looking at her as if they recognized her. She saw him nudge Harry with his elbow before she turned around and began walking to find her cab driver. As she continued to stride forward she faintly heard him ask, “Mr. Potter, was that just… Ginny Weasley? Do you know her?”

***

It was her fault for thinking her brothers would give her some indication that Harry would be there. They knew she still had feelings for him, no matter how much she denied it and how many times she tried to move on, and yet they couldn’t even give her a heads up.

When Fred and George saw her exasperated expression, they rolled their eyes in unison as Fred put his arm around her. “Are you reverting back to your 11-year-old self, little sis?”

“Fuck off,” she said, shrugging out of her brother’s embrace. “You could have at least warned me.”

“I thought you were bold, or whatever,” said George. “Wasn’t that one of the three qualities you used to describe yourself in People Magazine?”

Harry began walking over to them. She mentally prepared herself as he hugged Fred and George and congratulated them on the joke shop’s expansion. As he turned his attention to Ginny, the twins quickly left to talk to other guests. He didn’t smile.

“Hi,” she said nervously. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Hi,” he replied, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his drink. “Ron told me you landed three days ago.”

She gulped, feeling his hurt absorb her. “Well, I just got settled in and recharged, you know. I- I was going to text you.” Which was true; she did intend on keeping her promise to Harry at the airport, but didn’t know when the appropriate time would be- how do you know the right time to text your ex and first love to casually catch up?

He hummed, taking a sip of his beer. She absolutely despised cold Harry, she could feel it emanating off of him. “It’s fine,” he said, ostensibly lying. “I was catching up with some other people from school anyway. Remember Cho?”

Oh, he was cruel, bringing up his ex like that. “Obviously,” she almost spat. As if she could forget.

“Saw her and Neville, Hannah and Luna the other day.”

She had half a mind to mention Dean Thomas, her boyfriend right before Harry in her sophomore year, reaching out to her asking to go for a drink, but couldn’t find it in her to do it, so instead she just mirrored his cool and pretend unbothered tone. “I don’t remember asking, but thanks for the information.”

Harry’s frown became more clearly defined. “Fine, sorry to bother you.”

She felt a chill as he walked away from her, a familiar ache pooling in her abdomen. They were fighting like they were teenagers rather than grown adults. It was unlike him to start it- it was usually her- but she couldn’t really blame him, though. She knew at the end of the day that she was the main culprit, that she made him ache the way she did because she didn’t know how else to hold it on her own.

She watched him return to her brother Ron’s side and take another large sip of his beer. Ron’s wife and one of both Ginny’s and Harry’s closest friends, Hermione Granger, gave Harry an appraising look and then walked over to Ginny. Hermione gave her a short hug and then said, “Alright, which one of you said something stupid this time?”

Ginny scoffed, pulling away from her friend. “Oh, it’s nice to see you too, Hermione.”

“I saw you yesterday. So which one of you started it?”

“Obviously he did! He had the audacity to mention hanging out with Cho Chang to me.”

Hermione gave a look of utter exasperation. “That’s a new low for him.”

“I know!”

“But I’m assuming you replied with equal spite?”

She sputtered, crossing her arms. “Maybe so.”

“Well, you should have texted him, Ginny.”

“He should’ve texted me! ” she whispered sharply.

“But you told him at the airport-”

“No, I know that, but- I mean, he should have texted me after…” she trailed off, feeling ashamed of herself for being this upset. “After your wedding last year.”

“You mean after you two slept together again after my wedding last year.”

“Well, yeah. Once I got back to L.A. at least. But nothing.”

“You could’ve texted him then, as well.”

“Whose side are you on, anyway? I know Harry’s been your best friend forever and everything but I’m your sister-in-law! Doesn’t family by marriage mean anything to you?”

Hermione shook her head and rubbed her temples. “You two really need to sort out your issues on your own. But if it helps to know, he wasn’t really ‘hanging out’ with Cho. We were out with him and the others as well, Cho wasn’t in our group, she just happened to walk in with Michael Corner and they stopped by our table and said hi for a quick minute.”

“She’s dating Michael? My ex-boyfriend Michael?”

“Oh, yeah, they’ll be engaged any day now,” Hermione informed her.

“That lying piece of-”

“You’re both to blame here,” Hermione declared, using her I’m Putting My Foot Down voice. “Just act like adults for once and sort it out. Properly.”

Guilt enveloped her throughout the rest of the night and she hated how such a small exchange could do this to her, as she had to act like everything was okay, be happy for her brothers and talk about her life in L.A. and as a famous soccer player and sell the life she was living as one she was satisfied to have.

By the end of the evening, before he could leave, she found Harry by himself sitting and reading something intently on his phone. She took a deep breath and walked over to him. “Mind if I sit here?”

He looked up for a second, shook his head, and continued staring at his phone. She eased up just a tad, as she could tell his silence wasn’t his I’m Ignoring You silence, but rather his I’m Deep In Thought and Concentration silence. “Everything okay?” She asked, and when he glanced her way she gestured to his phone.

He gave a half-laugh, half sigh, looking back at his screen. “Yeah, it’s just some of these parents have no boundaries… emailing me during the holidays- on a Friday night no less. I’m just reading through them to decide if any of them are worth responding to outside of my automatic away signature.”

“Is this for the football team kids, or your English Literature students?”

“My Lit students, but there is some overlap. I have this one student, Danny, who’s a really great kid, and his parents are real dickheads, and they’re mad that he got a B+ instead of an A, despite me telling them last quarter that a B is a great grade, and Danny’s already self-conscious as it is and could use encouragement rather than nitpicking over bullshit-“

He caught sight of her face and quickly cut himself off, a blush spreading across his cheeks. She realized she was smiling- it was always nice to see Harry talk passionately about something- and quickly adjusted her facial features. He cleared his throat and closed his phone. “They can probably wait until after the holidays for me to repeat myself, I suppose.”

“I think that’s the right call,” she assured him.

He exhaled, running his hands through his hair and then over his face, trying to wipe off his exhaustion with it all. “Thanks.” He put his hands on his lap and looked at her fully, as he refused to do a couple of hours ago. “Ginny, I’m sorry-“

“No, I’m sorry,” she interjected. “I told you I’d let you know when I’d be here and I didn’t. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I let my frustration get the better of me,” he said with a sigh. “Classic Harry for you.”

She laughed, folding her legs into a pretzel in her seat. “Can’t blame you, really, as I’d probably behave the same.” She let out a breath and continued on. “Look, I did mean to text you and tell you I was back. I just… I don’t know, I was stupid, I thought it had to be the right timing, but I guess that doesn’t make much sense.”

“What, were you waiting for a sign or something?” he asked. He was joking when he asked, but as he processed the look on her face he rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Wow, Gin. You never stop amazing me.”

She blushed and laughed nervously, thinking of all the times in the past Harry had said something like that to her. She wanted to hear more of it, over and over, even when he’s saying it in jest. “That is what I do best.”

His features sharpened a bit and he leaned forward. “Well, how’s me asking to see you tomorrow for a sign?”

She put her hand on her chin and pretended to think about it. “A pretty good one, I’d say.”