#that how he steals shit unnoticed

[tobytost]

ezra learns to trust one (1) group of people and then turns into one of those four year olds who have learned how to talk, but not how to not talk, who just overshare oddly specific and/or embarrassing details of their families to complete strangers

NO BECAUSE THIS IS SO TRUE

i just know that Ezra was telling random facts about the crew to rebel pilots on their base

They don't even hear him coming, he just appears in the same room with them, scares the shit out of them and then he says something like "Did you know that Zeb can rip out his claws and regrow them??? I just saw it happen"

[kekewrites]

Tw. Bimbo reader, dark content, noncon, dubcon, corruption kink, coercion, creampie, size kink, magic sex toy/onahole/fleshlight, loss of virginity, not proof read

***

Thinking about being a childhood friend of a yandere duo.

You were just so friendly and cute, approaching them with candies in your tiny hands and offering it to them. So kind as you always play with them, and sometimes they would argue who'd be your husband when playing house. They often fought whenever they wanted to play with you but in the end, it always results to sharing you.

Middle school was a little different than Kindergarten. They get more protective when boys try to get close to you, painting them as insufferable brats that only want clout. Being neighbors with the wealthy kids, got you too much attention much to their liking, often getting bullied whenever you finally have some alone time, but this didn't get unnoticed as you wonder why that kid who pushed you on your locker, suddenly have bandage wrapped around his head and his reputation down.

Highschool is where the shift started. You wanted to explore more, finding new friends, and hanging out with other people, and they did not like that. You were just too dumb, they said. Too dumb to realize people manipulating you so that they can get close to them. Do you even realize that the girl from your class only talks to you about them? Dumb girl.

Safe to say, you never had a genuine friend in high school, not like you even had chance to form a deep level of friendship (by people who genuinely wanna be friends with you) by the way they hog all your attention and time.

College is where it gets difficult for them to spend time with you. Different schedules, classes, course. They even insisted you go to the same university as them. It's frustrating how little time you spend together, always with your stupid excuse of "working on an assignment".

Without you around, they definitely have a hard time relieving some tension. They couldn't just walt into your room and steal some panties scoot free without getting into trouble, even though they were star students and had plenty influence over the school. No, no, they won't put their reputation to ruin, they're your perfect best friends.

Despite them being a duo, they were quite different in terms of personality. One is patient and mature, thinking logical and more on the rational side. While the other is playful, outgoing and rash. Both have their charms that got everyone around their fingers. However, they wouldn't sleep with just anyone, no. It's hard to get their dick hard, always imagining your cute face whenever they try to fuck a desperate bitch to finally release some tension.

But your impatient friend had enough of some random girl, high pitch moans that's not yours annoying his ears. It's miserable to even hump his own hand, so hard and cold, different to what he imagine your tight warm cunt to be. This just won't cut it. He needs more, to finally feel your wet insides without you knowing.

So what's a good way to relieve tension?

Some good ol' fleshlight.

The moment it arrived at his doorstep, he straight up bolted to his door. Slamming the door close as he finally gets his hands on the toy after days of waiting. Fuck, he can't wait to use this thing.

It's like the half body sex toy he used to watch in porns. He was quite impressed by the details it had, he gotta give props for that, but that's not what he's after for. After reading the instructions, more like skimming and skipping most of the words. He use lubricant, using plenty of it and spreading it around the artificial pussy lips. Rubbing and feeling the flaps, like how he usually does. It's kinda weird that he's doing this for a toy, but he could just imagine it being your cunt, practicing his moves. After a few moments did he slide his thick finger inside the walls of the toy... How weird, the texture was oddly real, like it was alive. Well, that's probably some mechanic shit that the factory put there or something. This is his first time using a fleshlight and it cost a fortune through some sketchy website so it better be worth it.

***

You jolted in your sit in class, listening to your professor's discussion about physics until you suddenly feel something brushing on your thighs. Your head panning around the room before looking ahead, brushing it off. It was probably the wind.

You yelp when something began rubbing your cunt, earning a few concern looks for you and your professor glancing at you before going back to his discussion. You shrink in your sit, head hanging low as you pressed your lips together. Confused and scared by the phantom touch assaulting your nether region. Clutching your skirt, you try to maintain confused whimpers as the touches didn't stop.

You're scared.

The moment something pushed inside you, you stand up and excuse yourself, running to the nearest restroom. Your feet quick as you open a random stall and sit on the toilet. Your breathing heavy as you shakily lifts your skirt, looking at the wet patch on your panty.

What's happening? Why are you wet? How can something touching you there? You're not imagining this, right?

Your mind raced as you become more terrified. Is a ghost haunting you? Tears pool on your eyes, sniffling as the assault become more aggressive.

***

Fuck, this fleshlight was the best thing he ever bought. How was this even made? Whatever. He continues to pump his thick finger, inserting another one and he jump a bit as he felt the walls suck on his fingers. Damn, it can even do that? Just how realistic can this toy be? He's not complaining though.

He decided to touch the clit earning another tight squeeze. What a sensitive toy. He continues to play, eventually adding another finger. It was weird how the warm walls didn't run out of lube, if this were any normal toy it'd need to be lubricated after few minutes but this toy seems to produce it on its on.

He pulls out his fingers as he inspects the inside, it's undeniable that it's fake but the way it pulsates around nothing makes it a bit questionable on how it works.

Would your cunt also look like that? He could imagine your wrecked heaving face after fingering you. Poor little you never had something inside, let alone this thick fingers. He couldn't wait for the moment he'll ruin you.

***

You're straight up crying as an additional thick sensation pumped your insides. Squeezing your thighs shut, like it's gonna do something to stop the phantom. Everything inside you screams to remove the intrusion but you didn't know how. Opening your legs slightly, your shaky fingers removing your panty to see what's happening inside your cunt... but nothing was there. Only a gape.

Your fingers shifts towards the gape, gasping as the invincible touch was able to touch you yet you couldn't even see or feel it. Squirming uncomfortably, as you open your legs more to try and get "it" out with your fingers. Uselessly grabbing air, whimpering and sobbing as you fail to interrupt with its continuous pumping. Your stomach twisting and an unfamiliar coil was starting to unravel, your breath hitching and legs shaking.

But it's abruptly stop as the phantom pulled away.

Finally, relief and a little bit of disappointment fills your chest. Slumping on the toilet, panting like you run a marathon. You shift a bit as you sit upright, freezing as something thick pokes your entrance.

No way...

Your brain panics, your gaze staring at the way your hole widens and your legs subconsciously spreading more to prepare yourself for the inevitable. You clutch the wall of the stall, each hand gripping the surface. Tears streaming down your face and your cheeks getting hot.

This can't be happening.

You felt the thick thing stretch you open.

***

Something about fucking a fleshlight should embarrass him. But nah, with you in his mind there's nothing to be ashamed. This is just practice to him after all, he'll do this things eventually.

With his heavy cock around his fingers, he taps the opening of the fleshlight. His other hand grips the hip. Rubbing along the slit, he collects lube running on the head of his cock, catching the clit in the process. He lets out a breath, as he finally starts pushing his cock inside.

He's quite big, so he's a bit worried if he'll fit in some shady toy but he's sure he'll fit in you just right, even if he had to force himself in your tiny cunt.

But there's no need for consideration when it comes to a toy.

He sheath inside in one thrust.

Hissing at the way the walls clings to him, tightly wrapping around his cock and pulsating as if rejecting a foreign object. Shit, why does it feel like a virgin?

Warm, wet, and tight. The perfect toy pussy for him, this could even rival a real pussy if he were being honest. No time for adjusting as he starts to thrust. Pounding the onahole, roughly gripping the hips and fucking hard. Shit shit shit why does this feel so good? This stupid toy feels a whole lot better compare to a random slut.

His hips going hard and the way he feels the inside pulsating, sucking all his worth making him groan. Such a tight fake cunt.

He wonder if he can break the toy.

***

With a silent scream, your head jerk up as the big stretch was too sudden for your body to take. Legs wide open as you try to create space for the large object. You sob as quiet as possible, as the phantom starts pounding hard at your sensitive cunt. You want to scream but held back, tears blurring your vision as you pray for it to end.

Whimpering and sobbing was the only thing you can do. Waiting for the thrusting to stop, you teeth bite your lip to stop noise from escaping. It doesn't sound like you at all, it's weird, you're scared and confused.

Your mind tries to think of a distraction, to think of anything but the mysterious assault. How is this even happening? What did you do to deserve this? Why you?

Your breath hitched as you feel the tight coil in your stomach again. Moaning a little as you feel pleasure rising though you. Your hands clasp over your mouth, muffling your noise. You shake your head as the coil gets tighter and tighter, your legs shaking as you stutter words of apology to whoever's doing this.

And it snaps.

Your vision going white, body stiffening and eyes going into the back of your head.

Ah. You never felt this... good before.

It takes you a few minutes to recover. Your limbs feel like jelly, your chest rising up and down in a slow manner, and you greedily gulp air.

You were tired and exhausted but you were glad the assault has stop after that. You groggily starts to lift you panty's up however you felt something dripping down your hole.

... you wonder what it was.

***

After that day, the mysterious phantom would touch you at random times, when you're showering, classes, or even in bed late at night. It was torturous, you were becoming paranoid and it didn't go unnoticed by one of your best friend.

He's helping you study in the library as you'd ask him for his guidance in physics. You would've asked your other friend, but you can just imagine him play with your hair or something along of not really helping you study.

You're breathe hitch as you feel the phantom ghost rubbing your cunt. Shrinking on your sit, uncomfortably rubbing your legs.

"Something bothering you?" He ask, looking a bit concern of your shiftiness.

"O-oh, it's nothing. Just a little tired lately," You reassured, smiling as you pretend to be fine.

His sharp gaze examined your face before dropping the subject, deciding to just help you study.

"If you need something to talk to. I'm right here, ok?"

You smiled forcefully, "I-I will... Thank you."

***

You could never bring yourself to tell someone about it. No one would ever believe you.

You're laying in bed waiting for the phantom, already memorizing the way it'll touch you. You brace for the touch as you can't help but feel helpless. Are you going to live like this your entire life? You don't want to...

But would someone be willing to listen to you? To believe you? You don't wanna bother your best friend, you knew how busy he's gotten the recent days and you're doubtful that he'll even listen to your story when he's the rational one. That means...

Your thoughts were interrupted by the intrusion as you clutch your pillow and close your eyes. You're panting as the phantom starts its routine.

You're scared... You're scared that it's starting to feel good.

No. You don't want to be alone anymore on this.

You need help. Badly.

You shakily gets up from bed, putting some jacket on as you heads towards someone who can help you... At least you believe who will do.

***

"Oh? What's my little darling doing here at this late of night?" He grins as he opened the door with the sight of you.

You fidget with your jacket as you feel small under his gaze, "P-Please help me."

He raised his eyebrow, his grin replacing with a thin line. Yeah, he's playful but he'll never joke around when you're having a problem, "Come inside, we'll talk there, sweetie."

Sitting on his couch, you took a deep breath as you prepare to tell someone about this problem of yours. He won't make fun of you right? He won't be weirded out, right? He's a reliable person and your best friend.

He sits beside you, a serious and concerned expression on his face. It was rare to see him like this, which encourage you to finally tell him.

By the end, you were crying and hiccuping in your hands about the experiences you encounter with that phantom. Feeling his hand rub your back, cooing at you in comfort. He pulls your head to rest on his chest, telling you that everything's going to be fine.

You sob out a thank you, finding relief to finally get it out of your chest.

Unbeknownst to you, the man was smiling.

***

He didn't know if God was on his side. But, he didn't expect this would happen.

Who would've thought that the toy he was playing with was connected with cute lil you?

He didn't believe it at first but the way you described the timing was too much of a coincidence. Sweet little thing, don't worry you won't experience any scary thing from now on.

"Sweetie, do you want me to chase that scary invisible phantom away?" He cups your cheeks in his hands, locking gaze with you.

You sniffle before nodding, "Y-Yes, please..."

He gave you a toothy smile before gently pushing you down on his couch. His fingers swiping away your tears, "Listen to me, ok? I need you to trust me on this." His nose touching with yours as he leans close.

"O-ok... I trust you."

Dumb little girl.

You shouldn't have said that.

Now you've sealed your fate.

***

He wonders what was going on with you back when he helped you study in the library. Something was very off about you, and you were clearly uncomfortable to brought it up.

He thinks of you very often even when he's busy and swarmed with school works. Sometimes, getting frustrated to even continue and wants to just go to your place. He massages his aching temple, resting on his chair before a box caught his attention.

Oh yeah, that stupid guy gave him that a few weeks ago.

He recalls their conversation about it, saying that it'll help him release some stress. Well, he's plenty stressed now so why don't he test it out now?

He saunters to the box, sitting on the floor to unravel it. Only to be surprised by the object inside it.

An onahole...

If he was his usual self he would've flung this across the room and throw it to the garbage bin. But sometimes he needs to be relieve as well, plus he's a man too,

He's not that picky too.

This'll do for him.

A temporary replacement while thinking of your cunt.

[kooyeux]

TRYNA SMOKE.

CW: weed, grinding, tits sucking, spit kink, cock-warming.

Little weed smoking and sex session with your fuck buddy jungkook in his lil’ studio.

© KOOYEUX 2024.

“Came t’see me?” Jungkook greats you, eyeing you up and down. From the door, on which you’re leaning, you send him a small grin.

Jungkook leans forward with his elbows, resting them on his upper knees as he watches you stroll around his decorated studio.

“How ya’ doing, Jeon?” You feel his eyes burning on you, gaze way too intense to go unnoticed. “Good, good..” He replies, tongue wetting down his lips.

You finally walk to Jungkook, standing in front of him and his hands immediately reach the back of your knees, caressing the tensing skin.

“Whatcha came here for, pretty?” He snuggles against your tummy, dragging his lips to cautiously leave a kiss on your clothed cunt. “...looking all dolled up.”

“Tryna smoke, put some jhené on.”

That’s how, Jungkook is now staring at you rolling a joint. His eyes are attentively watching you licking the paper to seal the masterpiece you’ve made.

“That’s hot.” He chuckles, fidgeting with the laces of his sweatpants, which are loose and hanging low on his tight waist.

His comment makes you laugh before carefully placing the joint between your lips, taking with you the lighter as you lit up the end of it.

At the same time, you move from your chair to Jungkook’s thighs, prettily sitting on them. The action makes him groan and he pulls you closer by your ass.

You drag a puff from the joint, holding the smoke in and instructing him to open his mouth as you blow the intoxicating gas in— taking it as an opportunity to slide your tongue too.

Jungkook hums, taking hold of your hips and pressing them down on himself. “Oh shit, gimme.” He grabs the cigarette and aspire from it.

Your fingers brush through his hair, down to his chest and lastly to his waistband— painfully slow you slip his cock out and play with the tip.

Meanwhile, your buddy continues on his smoke inhaling and exhaling, watching you through hooded eyes. Jungkook lets out low groans “Mhm, pretty girl..”

“Slip it in your pussy. Please.” He almost begs, blowing smoke to your face as you giggle. You obey, anyways; lifting up your mini skirt and revealing your mound.

It doesn’t take much for you to set your panties aside and slide his cock inside you, shaky breaths leaving your mouths.

Your gummy walls suck him in so good, they have him rolling his eyes at the very back of his globes. “Swallowing me so well, fuck.”

“Let’s just cock-warm, mh?”

He’s a shit-talker, a big one. He’s grinding in you so roughly not even five minutes after telling you to just cock-warm him.

Jhené songs still playing in the acoustic system, giving you that high type of vibe you need in this moment.

And the joint is still intact, not near being consumed as you drag a good amount of smoke into your lungs— you’re feeling so light-headed, full of herb and cock.

Too intensify, Jungkook pools your shirt over your breast as he eagerly dives into them. Sucking your swollen nubs and twisting ’em in his forefinger and thumb.

It makes your hips roll with more need, pushing his tip further deeper, if it’s even possible. “Jeon— shit, open your mouth” and he does.

You trace the outlines of his lips before erotically dropping a good amount of spit on his tongue. Jungkook swallows, and with his eyes he asks for more.

Everything feels so slow and unreal. The sex it’s sensual and maybe intimate, too. It’s so good— it keeps you both going for a while.

Smoking, Moaning, Grinding and after all Cumming. And Jungkook plays with the cream you both release, smearing it around your tits and licking them clean.

“You were just tryna smoke, huh?” He mocks you.

do not plagiarize: if you enjoy my work limit yourself on re-blogging. do not copy, steal or translate.

— © KOOYEUX 2024.

[vamph00n]

Facial ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

ᡣ𐭩 mdni! femreaderxroomatehee

ᡣ𐭩 wc: 3k

ᡣ𐭩 synopsis: heeseung as a roomate? he’s fine, as a friend? better. it’s just heeseung, just the dude who happens to watch you fold and put away your underwear, and happens to watch you change when the bathroom door is slightly cracked open. he’s just your roomate. so what if he plays would you rather with explicit options occasionally?

ᡣ𐭩 smut tags under the cut.

ᡣ𐭩 consume what you can handle

smut tags: heeseung is a creep, reader is clueless, throat fucking, bj’s, facial duh, dubcon?, mentions of panty stealing and masturbation, mentions of bodily fluids, cum, cum eating, nasty make out, uses of the word angel,

lmk if i missed anything 🫶

enjoy!!

“no, not in a million years.” is what you said in response to a slightly unconventional question. but then again there’s no such thing between the two of you.

his arms rose in mock surrender, tilting his head at the validity of your reaction. “guess that type of thing isn’t for everyone.”

and it's not , he had just hoped that maybe you’d say something different. something to get his little computer fried brain working, running off of more than just the thought of an iniquitous act but an actual idea that was based in reality. that thing you’d hypothetically be doing. it would’ve fulfilled his nightly one handed habit better than using his left one to scroll through porn. knowing you’d do it? or have done it? that’s all he needs.

although met with disappointment, in that moment as you put away your neatly folded garments, heeseung captures a look of distaste and curiosity on your face. one that reads a lack of experience, not a lack of will. your nose scrunched at the idea, but the subtle way your lips pressed in a straight line told him. ahh it makes sense now. maybe it’s not that you’ve never considered it, but rather you’ve never tried it.

at your inconvenience, he’s still sprawled out on your bed despite demanding him to keep off. at times like this, you wonder, maybe it was a bad idea to find your roommate online, because you grossly underestimated how particular you were when it came to cleanliness. it’s not that germs freak you out, it’s that you’re rooming with a man. a recluse of one at that. yeah, he didn’t go out a lot and it’s not like he was rolling in a pile of shit; but you swore he wore the same sweater for two weeks straight without washing it, and used a three in one body wash. in a small apartment with one bathroom? those exemplar instances only lead up to future disagreements.

with the ability to ignore these minor quirks, you’d say that despite your differences you managed to become quite comfortable with him. so much so, that you seemed to brush off the fact that he was always in your room when you put away your underwear, how it went unnoticed by you when he lingered a little too long in friendly hugs, and smelled your hair a little too strongly when he’d ask what shampoo you used. cause why would you? it’s just heeseung.

maybe one of the biggest things you ignored was his odd game of would you rather. which is how we’re led up to the very question the man himself finds so interesting. initially you weren’t shocked by the ask, as he was just poking fun at how extensive your skincare routine was minutes prior.

“would you rather, not put all that gunk on your face or… let a guy give you a facial?

it’s not as outlandish as some other questions he’s asked, or as scandalous as experiences you’ve told him about. you already figured that he was just socially inept and thought nothing more of it. after all, he was an acquired taste. so of course you replied, and of course you would never because it’s nasty? at least maybe you thought it would be, because you’ve never tried it.

after lingering in your room for a bit longer, still pressing on about the question, it leads into a minor dispute. “seriously? why do you need that much stuff for your skin?” the boy sighs as he stretches out on your bed. you smack his face with a nearby throw pillow, and reiterate the same things you always tell him. maybe stuff like that didn’t matter to him, but to you it does because well, it makes you feel pretty.

whenever you talked like this, he couldn’t help but let his mind drift. if he could, and it didn’t mess up the established bond between you two; he would’ve totally told you how beautiful were.

but the idea of being “just heeseung”, a friend and a roomate; it was like a free pass to act perversely.

leaving him to his own devices, you wash up ignoring that the door was slightly cracked open. yet another thing you overlook, heeseung is a man. you knew that from the way he kept himself groomed, but otherwise? not so much. he knows how to get what he wants by being sneaky, and knows when not to be. although he’s starting to doubt that it’s just his scheming nature that’s aiding his desires, it’s the fact that you overlook everything he does.

his room, located at the nice spot in front of the bathroom, let his imagination run wild. the small gap in the door you left was occasionally big enough that he’d get a glance of your boobs in the reflection of the foggy mirror. those were nice times, and when you asked him to get you a towel because you forgot? even better. he watched intently and waited as you got out and dressed yourself in those pretty lace panties he held himself back from stealing.

pushing open the door as you lathered different serums onto your face, he couldn’t help but notice a certain resemblance of your white night cream. only making him wonder what else looked pretty spewed on your features. were you absolutely just in a shirt and underwear? yes but then again, it’s just heeseung. in the midst of your therapeutic regime, he starts fiddling with a bottle, confused with its contents.

“is this like water? what is it?” he says while sloshing the liquid around.

you snatch it from his grasp and say “it’s a toner.”

he nods placing it back where it was, and you take note of his hand placement. his arms snaked behind your back onto the counter locking you between his form. it’s nothing that you're entirely fazed by, it’s the intent stare he’s giving you through the reflection of the mirror as you look at the glowyness of your face that makes your heart jump.

heeseungs eyes darken, and he leans close to your ear still staring at your reflection.

“you said all this makes you look pretty, but I know a couple of other things that’ll look much better…”

you feel your heart stutter at the wispyness of his melodic voice saying suggestive things into your ear. in that moment he draws back his hand, and laces it through your hair grabbing it into a ponytail. you try to look over at his gaze from the side, but he grabs your jaw, forcing you to look at your reflection.

“look at yourself angel, maybe it’s the face that counts, not what you put on it.”

as you watch through the glass, his lips tug at the corners, the sight of your hair fisted into a ball in his grasp not ever being something you thought you’d let anyone do. let alone have heeseung do it. his free hand grips your hip, and now is when you start to notice how underdressed you were before him. his hand travels down your lower half, groping your ass, then he plays with the band of your undergarment. he feels the slight raise in your skin, and a look of anticipation on your face tells him all.

he released your hair, and pressed his hips against your backside, trapping you in place. he smells your shampoo, and feels the softness of your skin. momentarily, you don’t know what to feel, the only thing you know is that the man before you has rendered you compliant.

you feel his hands grip your hips, as his roll into you. hard, and restrained, you feel his length through the thin material of your panties. taking your shaky hand, and feeling it, oh man. it’s hot, and heavy. heeseungs chest rises and his body flinches, he hisses at the feeling. grabbing you in a stern manner, he spins you to face him.

the way you comply, the way you just sit before him in fear and possibly regret, he takes his hand to caress your face. maybe he feels bad because tears are welling in your eyes waiting to fall, or because he hasn’t even touched you yet, your body is tense in his grasp, scared at the mercy of him. it’s something he doesn’t want to admit turns him on. not yet at least.

for a second you find yourself staring into his eyes, a weird feeling of fear and arousal course through you. heeseung, just heeseung. he weighs his hangs on your shoulders, pushing you to the floor in which you land on your knees. he backs up, locking the door behind him.

“hey what the fu-“

then, when you tried to rise to your feet, his hands hold you down at the top of your head as you wince. without much thought, he drops his pants.

maybe you’re the creep, but you’ve seen his cock once. passing by his room late at night to get water, he had it out as he stroked it with one hand. you’ve stored that memory in the back of your mind, thinking that you were the one being perverse. or maybe he wanted you to see that, maybe he saw as you watched and let you, hoping you’d come in to help him.

with that memory playing back, it’s much bigger than you remember. looking at his glistening tip, and veiny shaft, you just admired it. the hazy feeling this situation had you thinking “no way this is real.” wondering what’ll happen when you wake up from this wet dream. for a little longer you ponder whether you’ve ever actually thought of heeseung in any way like this. no, you haven’t, but will you pass on the opportunity?

his figure casts a shadow over you, he looks down at his dick, and back at you.

“are you going to do something about it?”

this isn’t a dream.

you inch closer to his hips, and take your shakey hands to hold his member. a little shudder down his spine and an encouraging nod paired with a low moan, you wrap your lips around the head of him. tasting the large amount of dripping precum as you swirl your tongue, he throws his head back, the sensitivity not only shocking you but himself as well.

so no, you won’t pass on the opportunity.

the sounds he elicits as you work your mouth on merely the very tip of his girth, it makes you think less of how you got here; but rather how you want to draw this experience out longer. your delicate fingers caress the remaining that hang out of your mouth, feeling the grooves and patterns.

it’s tantalizing the way you tease at his vulnerable state, him becoming a mess under your control. only, you can’t tell he is, you just keep going. the vicious mix of your saliva and the filth seeping from his cock were a display that he wanted to burn into his retinas. at this point, if you kept going he might—

then, in a second a small wave of delirious ecstasy wash over him as you take hold of his neglected balls, feeling them up as you lick the little slit on his tip.

knowing, and feeling a bit ashamed he wouldn’t last long if you kept going, he pulls away. leveling with you on your slightly reddened knees, the sappy liquid seeps from the corners of your mouth, and he pulls you in for a kiss.

all you can think is how crazy this is, how crazy you are for just… enjoying it more than you thought you would. him looking that attractive, moaning out little slews, and jumbled bits of your name while doing barely anything? oh yeah, you’re right to be on your knees. it had your panties clinging to the sticky uncared for mess brewing within you, that all you could do was hope he didn’t notice you grinding back on your heel. a kiss, a nasty one at that, tied with the mix of his secretions and yours as his tongue explored your mouth; it was like a porn like.

as he draws back, you see the little glistening string of spit, and he wipes away the residue forming on the corners of his mouth. as you tilt your head, like you didn’t almost rock his world; he fucking knows your enjoying this, and wants to shut you up before you start to get too cocky.

still hard and erect, he stood and you look up. the corner of your lips pull, and god heeseung knows he’s gonna have fun with you. he gives his length one small stroke before peering at your glassy eyes stare.

“think you can take this all of this in there?” he ask rasplily, as he brushing your lip with his thumb parting them.

with your mouth wide open, insistent you can; do you ever recall being so nasty? maybe there was a time, but really, did you ever think it would be with just heeseung? no.

a more than satisfied look casts on his face, as he lets the tip of his dick rest on your togue. the way you salvate in anticipation, and him enjoying it makes your cunt wetter, and throb more than any foreplay you’ve had.

it only makes you hope this isn’t all he’ll be doing.

sliding his member slowly into your mouth inch by inch, you wonder when it’ll stop. it’s to much, in girth and length. he’s maybe half way in when you feel the salty tears form in your eyes as his tip hits your throat. the garbled gag provoked by him, makes heeseungs jaw go slack in awe.

once you’ve adjusted to the monster, that is his manhood, you find it difficult to suck. with so much he had going on, you didn’t know what to do with all of it. yet with how slow each movement is, he seems to bask in it. the feeling of your mouth being stretched, and the feeling of your teeth grazing his shaft, all of it you enjoyed. letting out small hums as you lick, and suck.

“mm, so good at sucking cock,” he moans.

his hips press forward, shocking you a bit, causing tears to roll down your face.

“shh, shh. let me” he says before your life practically flashes before your eyes.

he starts to thrust into your mouth. it being obvious you can’t handle someone of his size, he takes the lead. you sit there, looking absolutely fucked as he ruts into you, you look up at his form.

it makes you so wet, you wonder how long he’s wanted to do this. how long it would’ve been till you thought about him like this. panted breaths draw from him, as he fucks your throat. all he could think as he moved is how pretty you were, how perfect you were.

thinking about how wet you are just watching him, knowing you have to be because he saw the discomfort in your panties. just that made him write. all these months he’s wondered why hasn’t he done this sooner, and wondering if your going to let him fuck you ever after this. he doesn’t know if that’ll happen, so he treats this like the last, even though it won’t be.

his thrusts become quicker, and your throat starts to hurt. his knees feeling like they’re going to buckle, he bites back a loud moan and you bask in his weakness. hoping he’ll be this way buried in your cunt, wanting to watch him as he falls apart trying to keep his composure.

heeseung feels the rise, and force course in his dick, aching for release. pulling it out of your mouth, and stoking it aggressively above your face he asks:

“youll let me cum all over your face right? just me?”

you nod, opening your mouth and closing you eyes wating for it.

he grunts, and strokes faster, the mix of saliva and precum keeping it lubricated. breathy pants are elicited from his dry throat, and his tip rages with a blushed red color.

“shit—“

he cums all over your face, it’s hot, and all that lands in your mouth gets swallowed. his chest rises and falls, and he looks like he’s just about done, but not before he fists your hair pulling you up from your weak knees.

he faces you towards the mirror, making sure you see yourself. your face painted white, all sticky with his semen, it arouses you, it's unexpected. it hurts how much this turns you on.

heeseung grabs your chin and playfully shakes your head.

“see, look how pretty” he smirks.

you want to roll your eyes and protest but you can’t. the brain fog you have because of how much your sopping cunt hurts has hindered you.

he continues to tease “hm, so not in a million years huh?”

you can’t think of anything else, and at this point your dignity is gone, but the need you have for him is carnal.

you pull him in close, and press his chest against yours. “i need you”

and just like that, heeseung knows this won’t be the last time this will be happening.

a/n: make sure to stream XO!! 😘

[17020]

hellooo amor it’s nice to meet u !! ^ ^ <3 omg i saw ur suggestions were open and i was thinking about kaji !! he’s always with enomoto & kusumi and i can imagine him trying to play off having a crush bc he doesn’t want you to know just yet, but those two ?? are absolutelyyy not letting that happen. as soon as you’re in sight, kusumi’s texting the entire gc and enomoto’s elbowing him in the side with a knowing smile— and he gets soo flustered and clammy 😭 he’s so cute

DID SOMEONE SAY CUPIDS?

Kusumi and Enomoto have to always look out for their grade captain, right? And that includes sneaking into Ren Kaji's love life. 0.8k fluff!!

The thing about REN KAJI is that he thinks he's discreet.

From stealing glances, opening doors, gifting you things, and even using his headphones less from worrying that you might grow tired of his "huh's" and "hm's" from not reading your lips properly, Kaji is sure that he is the king of discretion when it comes to hiding his growing crush on you.

Luckily for him, Kusumi and Enomoto know him better than he knows himself. They see the qualities, and the greatness in him that he sometimes fails to see. Of course, his 'strange' behavior towards you does not go unnoticed.

When first confronted about it, he shrugged. With a trembling voice and trying his best to feign disinterest, Kaji stated that no, he did not have a crush on you. "I treat Yn the same as I do everyone else, so don't go gettin' any funny ideas."

Ren Kaji doesn't feel anything for you, so why does he freeze whenever he sees you strolling around when he's on patrol? Why does his body temperature rise until he resembles a human oven and his face gets all red when you're nearby?

He's running out of excuses as the weather slowly gets colder and his friends invite you places with them more often. Kusumi and Enomoto share knowing glances as they turn to you, inviting you to accompany them on patrol.

When you agree, Kaji thinks he's going to burn the place down from how hot he feels, his face now a new shade of crimson. As you walked around with the three men, Kaji 'subtly' pulled his headphones from his ears, striking up a conversation.

If he was being honest with himself, your voice was better than any melody that rang through his earphones. Gosh, you could send him voice notes and those would be playing all day if it were up to him.

Kusumi and Enomoto slowed down their steps and got lost for a bit, unbeknownst to you and Kaji. You got so lost in the conversation that you didn't notice those two running to where you were, their hands behind their backs.

"Hey—let's go to Cactus Bakery! We could all use some sweets right now, right Kusumi?"

Kaji looked at them in confusion, as his vice-captains grinned from ear to ear. The whole walk towards Cactus he grew concerned as to what his classmates were planning, as they would not reveal what they hid.

"Yn! You mind going in and saving us a spot? We just needa talk to Kaji for a bit."

You nodded happily as you stepped inside the bakery, taking a seat as you waited for the trio to step inside. As soon as you were out of sight, Kusumi and Enomoto shared a look, then looked at Kaji.

Kusumi's arms were now in front of Kaji, a small box of chocolates in them. He handed them to him, offering him a knowing smile. Enomoto was next, revealing that what he had behind his back was a small, but colorful bouquet.

"You're gonna give these to her, and tell her she's beautiful. Then, you're gonna pay for her food. Finally, you're gonna take her home."

"What the hell? I told you I don't feel any—"

"Deny all you want, Kaji, but we all know. Besides, this is an order!"

"Huh?"

Kusumi pulled out his phone, showing Kaji a text message conversation.

KUSUMI [1 Attachment] Yn joined us for patrol again!

HIRAGI Give Kaji the balls he needs to take her out, and take care of patrol Im sick of this shit

Kaji was bewildered, staring at his classmates in complete shock. They forced their gifts into his hand, elbowing his sides and pushing him inside the bakery.

You were confused as you saw Kaji take a seat in front of you, shyly handing you the box and bouquets. Smiling, you thanked him, asking him if Kusumi and Enomoto were coming. He shook his head in response, stating that 'they could handle things while he was gone.'

He could feel his hands getting clammy as his eyes scanned the menu, trying to figure out what to order. He looked at you, his lips curling into a small smile as he saw you admiring the flowers from the bouquet, your fingers tracing every petal.

When the waitress approached, Kaji wasted no time in telling her what he wanted, and he waited for you to order. She smiled in return, complimenting the bouquet.

"It's stunning!" she chirped, turning to Kaji. "You made a good choice, she looks beautiful with those flowers."

You felt your cheeks heat up as the waitress walked away, and looked at the boy in front of you. His face was red, turned towards the side to avoid your gaze.

"'s true" he mumbled, low enough for you to barely hear, "you look beautiful."

Kaji swore you were going to be the death of him. He also swore that he would definitely kill Kusumi and Enomoto later, whom he saw through the bakery's transparent windows, phones in hand as they 'discreetly' took a picture.

[sutorus]

imagine having a sleep over at megumis and toji decides to steal you away once he finally passes out 😮‍💨 his shirts and sweats probably have cigarettes burns in them

you gave me sm toji brain rot

-🫧 anon

we gave each other toji brainrot anon 🤝 kind of a part 2 to the kinktober toji fic

WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI. f! reader, unprotected, mild daddy kink, some anal play, degradation, toji being toji

you’re shifting on your feet, lips trapped between your teeth as you ring the doorbell. you’re early to the sleepover by a full hour.

you don’t know what you want to expect. if it’s toji, sitting on the couch, glass of some cheap shit on the armrest and hand tucked into his sweats.

or if it’s megumi, waiting at the door, bowl of popcorn by his hip and tv blasting because his dad isn’t home to scowl about the noise.

megumi does open the door. and toji does sit there.

and somehow, that’s the least likely, worst case scenario.

“hey,” megumi greets you, stepping aside to let you in.

toji doesn’t spare you a glance, so you let your eyes travel all over him. his bare feet propped up on the center table, his arm behind his head and fingers scratching his hair.

megumi notices you looking and — thankfully — only clicks his tongue, believing you’re just as irritated at his father’s presence as he is.

and are you? you’re unsure.

you don’t know how to face toji. you don’t know how to interact with him anymore, if you even should.

you sleep over at megumi’s house all the time, but right now you suddenly forgot how it even goes. do you take your shoes off at the genkan? do you leave your bag by the door?

you decide to just walk to megumi’s room wordlessly, taking the long way behind the couch as to not block toji’s view from the tv.

this doesn’t go unnoticed by either men.

megumi follows you inside, closing the door behind him and plopping down on his bed.

“so are we starting with the first movie?” he flips his laptop open. “it’s the best one, anyway.”

“uh, yeah, sure,” you sit down beside him hesitantly.

you’re just now noticing how much megumi and toji look alike and it’s freaking you out.

“what the fuck is wrong with you today?” blunt as always. blunt as toji.

“huh? dude, chill,” you lie down, placing the laptop on your lap. megumi eyes you suspiciously before lying down beside you. “i just didn’t sleep much last night.”

“right,” he says, skeptical but disinterested, and presses play.

every minute of the movie is torture — on the screen and in your head.

around the beginning of saw iii, megumi orders pizza. him, you and toji eat in silence.

complete silence. he doesn’t even look at you.

why isn’t he looking at you? you’re in your pajamas already. no bra. short shorts. you thought you’d both established that that worked on him.

toji wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and gets up, with a grunted clean up when you’re done.

it’s so frustrating, the total lack of attention, and you’re starting to get pent up. settling back down next to megumi to watch fucking saw iv and hear him question the viability of each trap drives you crazier by the minute.

when you finally tuck in for the night, you’re anything but relaxed.

what happened to “you have one more hole for me to wreck don’t you”? toji’s so full of shit, probably too drunk to even get it up tonight anyway.

it’s those angry thoughts that lull you to slumber, regret settling deep in your gut for having ever let that horrible man inside you.

not long after you fall asleep, however, you’re stirred awake, a soft, sake-soaked breeze blowing over your face.

you crack one eye open, no surprise in your gaze because who else could it be.

toji’s smirking, crouched down, eyes searching all over your sleeping form. it sends a chill down your spine.

what do you want, you mouth to him, anger persisting against the arousal already starting to build within you.

his grin grows wider, wilder. he gets up slowly and beckons with two fingers, and like the silly fucking slut you are, you follow.

you — not toji — make sure to gingerly close the door to megumi’s room before you turn around to face him. or rather, face his chest, the flimsy cloth littered with cigarette burns that covers those muscles you finally got to know so well.

“hello?” is all you can manage to say.

he loves your indignation, loves the brattiness, will love to fuck it out of you tonight, too.

“what, don’t want it?”

you roll your eyes.

“you had to wait until megumi’s right there to say you wanna do it?” your focus wavers as he runs his hands up and down your waist. “you couldn’t have pulled me aside before?”

toji presses his leer to the side of your throat, caging you in against the wall right by the door. you let out a soft moan, hands already reaching for his arms.

“had to make sure you two weren’t gettin’ it on,” he growls into the crock of your neck, making you grimace in disgust. “i don’t like to share my toys, y’know.”

“ew, he’s your son,” the irony in your statement isn’t lost on you, the person you should actually be ewing at.

you push him away and the feeling of his abs under your palms is enough to break any rest of resolve you had in you.

toji lets out a low, satisfied laugh, throwing his head back. “exactly why i worry.”

soon enough, and unsusprisingly, he has you bent over the kitchen island, pussy stretched out and dripping on his thick cock.

“shut the fuck up,” he keeps saying when you moan, only to fuck you harder and faster and deeper.

the furniture is digging into your belly, your forearms skidding on the top. you whine softly, angling your hips so he can hit that one spot inside you that makes you see stars.

“ohhh yeah, fuck back into me,” he grabs your hair and you let out a yelp, punished with a blow to your ass. still, you do as you’re told, the sounds of your skin slapping against his growing louder, quicker.

“t-touch me, touch me, make me cum,” you beg in a desperate whisper, head straining in his grip.

toji laughs, dragging his cock out of you slowly before plunging all the way back in.

“shut up, slut,” and god, why is that so hot to you, “last i checked you weren’t in a position to make demands.”

you whimper, trying to snake a hand down your clit to do it yourself.

suddenly, toji stops.

“ah, that reminds me,” he slowly, torturously slowly to make you feel every inch of him, pulls out of you completely. then he pokes your asshole with the head of his cock.

“no,” you say in a panicked breath, trying to turn around in his grip. “no, no, not today, definitely not right now no—“

“shhh, fuck, be quiet,” he wraps his entire forearm around your throat and brings your body into his chest, nibbling at your jaw. “you’re gonna like it.”

“i don’t want to,” it’s one last attempt, the most honest one you have. toji likes fucking with you, flustering you, that much is obvious.

but is he seriously— and without any prep, too?—

he chuckles low in his throat, right into your ear.

“then ask me not to.”

he slides the tip back into your cunt and you relax a little, even moving your hips back and forth like hey! look how good my pussy is! can you just stay in it and not ruin my ass please!

“please don’t fuck my ass,” you try.

“hmm,” he hums, sliding his cockhead out. then back in. then back out.

“please, toji, don’t fuck my asshole tonight,” you clench around him, trying to take more of his length inside.

“not good enough, whore,” he slams all way back in, shoving your body into the sharp wood and making you wail. toji starts moving, fucking little noises out of you with every thrust. “say, ‘no please daddy not there, not my little asshole!’”

you let out a long, pitchy whine, clawing at the arm around your neck.

“do it or else,” toji gathers up some wetness at your entrance with your thumb and presses it to your asshole, rubbing little wet circles.

“fuck you, toj—ahh,” his finger slips inside and you clench down hard. “please! please daddy not there, not my—“

toji cackles, fucking you in earnest now, plowing every word and thought out of your brain. you’re grunting with the force of his thrusts, finding purchase in the edges of the kitchen island, knuckles turning white.

“such a good little girl, aren’t ya,” he says into the shell of your ear, snaking a hand around your hip to rub your puffy clit.

you throw your head back onto his shoulder, legs shaking in between his. “ahhh, fuck, d-daddy—“

your orgasm washes over you so forcefully that you feel like folding in two, going limp in toji’s grip as he chases his own.

he buries a few low, animalistic grunts into your hair before he’s filling up your cunt, aborted little thrusts pushing out staccato breaths from his lips.

he releases his grip on you, cock still spurting out the rest of his load.

once he pulls out, toji keeps feeding his cum into your pussy over and over, telling you to watch the floors before you have to limp your way to the bathroom to clean up.

you do the best you can without taking a shower, body so thoroughly exhausted that you don’t even know if you’d have the energy for one.

right now, all you want is to plop down on a soft surface and get some much needed sleep, feeling actually satisfied.

when you leave the bathroom, you’re faced with a groggy, disheveled megumi standing by his bedroom door.

your eyes quickly scan your surroundings.

toji is nowhere to be seen.

megumi’s eyes reveal nothing, none of the thoughts that might be going through his head right now.

as for you, there’s only one word bouncing around inside your skull:

fuck.

a/n sorry again

[heartfullofleeches]

"Yo, V- Think we're out of ice."

"Check that deep freezer my parents sent, I just kinda throw shit in there sometimes so......"

Eyes glued to their computer monitor, the brief flash of your reflection in the screen paused V in his tracks. Taking a painfully slow amount of time to remove his headphones, your partner turns in his chair to face you with that same unhurried pace in tow.

"Are you wearing my fucking underwear?"

Sipping from your glass of room temperature juice, you sluggishly hook the elastic band of the boxers higher up your waist - swallowing as you mutter a quiet- "Yeah, so? You haven't let me leave to get more clothes and I had to put on something while the ones I had on are in the wash. Good thing I had this shirt in my bag. You steal my clothes all the time anyway so you probably put wear them while I'm out too."

V stares at you with eyes you could only describe as a starving carnivore having found its dinner.

"You do wear the clothes I leave over here... Right?"

V blinks - the train of depravity chugging through his mind broken by the sound of your voice. Body facing the computer once more, the image of your bare thighs draws him back like a siren's call- V shakes his head as he pulls away from the sight, dropping their voice down to a whisper as they pick up their headphones.

"I gotta go. I don't give a damn about how important this match is to you- Until your partner is standing half naked in your doorway don't fucking talk to me about what's important."

Stirring your straw around your cup, the rustling of fabric goes unnoted as an idea crosses your mind. "We have some strawberries in the fridge... Should throw those in the freezer for an hour if I can't find the ice."

"Here."

Looking up, a topless V extends their fist tightly balled around the collar of his crumpled tee shirt. He pats his lap, scooting as far back in their chair as physical possible to make room.

"What's that for?"

"Either you put my shirt and sit in my lap or you take my boxers off and wait for your clothes to dry."

[ginevrapng]

you're alone with james in his room, lying in his bed and playing with his hair while he's laying his head on you. you've always loved playing with his hair and he's always loved you playing with it, he finds it relaxing and his hair is so silky and soft.

one of the many perks of him being head boy is that he has a separate room so he doesn't have to dorm with people anymore. he doesn't think there's a problem with sharing a room with his friends but when you used to come up to his room to spend time with him someone else would always be there talking to you, stealing your attention. he could handle when remus or sirius brought people back for the night with simple silencing charms and closing of the curtains but it was a different story when he wanted to see only you and instead you included everyone in the conversations you were having, you might have even ended up on one of the others bed. he wanted you all to himself. now that he's head boy he's gotten his wish and he gets all your attention.

james is so comfortable he could fall asleep. with the combination of you playing with his messy hair, him getting to feel your warmth and your cute squishy tummy underneath his head, he's in heaven. there's no place he'd rather be than with you.

you can tell that james is close to falling asleep due to him starting to talk less and when he does he does it languidly. "mmph, you're so comfy and soft."

you giggle at that, " 'm glad to hear it jamie. y'know if you end up falling asleep i'll do the same."

as you say that you hear sirius swinging the door open, followed by remus and peter. james grumbles at the noise and turns his head away from the door so he's laying with his cheek pressed up against you and nuzzles you. "you should of knocked sirius," remus scolds him.

"oh, give over. it's not like they were doing anything," sirius retorts.

james grabs hold of your waist tightly, silently wishing for them to leave and him to be able to continue nearly falling asleep on you. "yeah sirius, next time knock." james' heart beats quickly and his breathing hitches. is this a confession? "we could of been talking shit about you or conspiring against you." james wants to feel let down that it's not a confession about how you might have been together in ways that would constitute a silencing charm and closing of curtains, but he can't, you're so cute, just so very you, he laughs and true smile appears on his face, where his eyes crinkle at the corners with cheeks raised high.

"you may have forgotten prongs, because obviously i so rudely interrupted you, but we've got a prank planned with snivellus right now," sirius looks at you both and smirks.

"i thought you've been more careful with your pranks recently guys. why are you pranking snape?" you sit up and look at them all.

"because, my dear, snivellus deserves it," sirius replies leaning against the wall. james narrows his eyes at the term of endearment sirius called you, it went unnoticed by you but sirius noticed and smirked again.

you roll your eyes at 'snivellus deserves it', snape always deserves it but james said he'd try and be more careful this year since he's been appointed head boy and remus is a prefect as well. they said if they're going to be pulling anymore pranks they'll be more discrete but you don't think it will be discrete with the way sirius is talking.

"it was james' idea actually," remus adds on.

james sits up and he comes to his own defence quickly, "he a thousand percent deserves it this time."

you cross your arms and look at him annoyance, "you're not going to tell me why this time are you?"

"no, but you'll have to believe me on this." you grab hold of his arm and pout before dramatically falling back on the bed. james grins again as he takes that as a yes and pulls you back up. "are you gonna stay here until after 'm back?"

you shake your head and shuffle closer to him, " it's getting late jamie, i'm going back to m' dorm."

he thought you'd say that but he also had hoped that you'd stay and he'd come back with you asleep in his bed. "alright love, see you tomorrow morning?"

you nod you head and kiss his cheek before getting up, "night everyone, night jamie. please try not to get into any trouble tonight."

"can't make any promises," sirius tells you before remus whacks his arm.

"we'll be fine," peter reassures you.

"yeah, i'll keep everyone in check," remus tells you.

they successfully carried out their prank that night without getting caught. that morning you see snape with bright pink hair and the marauders grinning brightly. james grins the most, payback for calling my best friend someone you wouldn't touch with a ten-foot broomstick when rosier asked if you liked her and were friends. like she'd ever, EVER want to be friends with you, like she'd ever, EVER even tolerate you.

[thefreakandthehair]

@steddie-week, day 3: discover.

When Steve is five years old, his mom catches him sneaking cookies before dinner. 

The jar is set up on top of the refrigerator, porcelain white in the shape of a teddy bear, and Steve isn’t supposed to be able to reach it. Unfortunately for the Harrington’s, their son is athletic and agile even as a child so of course, he discovers that if he slides a chair over to the counter, he can climb onto the beige laminate and reach the jar on his tippy toes. The head of the bear is removed easily, a cookie (or two) are snatched, and no one is the wiser. His devious heist comes to a halt one night after tee-ball practice when he thinks that his mom is in the shower. Steve ends up being caught with his hand literally in the cookie jar. 

It’s a story his mom tells at dinner parties and family gatherings throughout his childhood, over and over with the same details. Steve hears it enough to visualize what his face must’ve looked like— wide eyes, mouth ajar, eyebrows nearly touching his hairline, cheeks and ears turning pink. 

A few months into (finally) dating Eddie Munson, Steve finds his boyfriend standing in the living room mere feet from where Steve had tried to steal those cookies years ago wearing what he imagines is the exact same expression.

There’s no teddy bear-shaped cookie jar, but Eddie certainly looks caught: caught in a moment of jock euphoria, that is. 

When Steve gets home from his trip to Chicago with Robin a day early, he decides to surprise Eddie rather than call ahead and it may be the best decision he’s made in quite some time because Steve recognizes this sight intimately. 

Eddie’s in the middle of the room, bobbing around in front of the television with his hands threading through his hair and tugging in frustration as he yells things like:

“Are your blades dipped in fucking butter?”  “The puck goes in the net!”  "You can't shoot for shit, just like you can't grow a decent mustache, huh?" “Your job is to use your big ass body to stop the teensy tiny puck from getting around you and that’s a Hell of a lot easier if you stay in the fucking crease!” 

He stands in the doorway in shocked silence, watching in bemused wonder. Even in his crouched position, even as he scuttles from side to side with a phantom hockey stick in his hands with the only light in the room coming from the television screen, he's beautiful.

How long has this been going on though? In the years of friendship that eventually led to their relationship, Steve’s never known Eddie to give a single shit about any sort of organized sport that didn’t involve Steve specifically running around in what Eddie calls his "utterly obscene shorts." 

Hockey’s never been mentioned, not once, but Eddie knows too much to have randomly picked it up in just the two days Steve’s been gone. A ripple of something that feels like guilt washes over him, unsure of what he’s done to make Eddie feel like he needs to hide this from him. 

Long moments pass and Steve continues to go unnoticed when the game rolls into overtime. 

“I can’t take much more of this, Jesus H. Christ.” Eddie moans, his hands falling to his knees as he hunches over. 

Commentators flash up on the screen and Steve supposes intermission is as good a time as any to interject. 

“Would some company help?” 

Eddie whips to the right and there it is: wide eyes, mouth ajar, raised eyebrows, flaring nostrils, and the tell-tale darkening of Eddie’s cheeks. Steve only assumes his ears follow suit— they usually do when he’s flustered but Eddie’s hair blocks the view. His hand flies to his chest, startled on top of it all. 

The Bruins are going into overtime and his deepest, darkest secret was just unceremoniously discovered. 

It’s been a rough day. 

Steve just smiles and crosses the threshold into the room, standing next to his boyfriend who looks like all of the air has been vacuumed from his lungs. 

“You— you weren’t supposed to be home yet! You scared the shit of me, man!” 

“I was trying to surprise you but uh, joke’s on me I guess. Hockey, huh?” Steve gestures at the television with his chin. “Makes sense. It’s fuckin' lawless.” 

Eddie’s features settle into something less abashed and more defensive, his eyebrows knitting together and his head tilting to one side just a hair. 

“What makes sense? There was just nothing else on. It’s not a crime to flip through the channels, Steve.”

His lies are weak, and even under the best circumstances, the bar for Eddie’s ability to lie is on the floor so that's saying a lot. 

“It’s not, no. If it was, you’d probably be doing it,” he teases, nudging their shoulders together. “Besides, you wouldn’t know what the fuck a crease is if you were just casually flipping through.” 

“Wait, wait, shit. How long were you standing there?” 

“Long enough to find out you’ve been holding out on me, Munson.” Steve twists to face Eddie, pointing at the television. “We could’ve been going to games, screaming insults, calling plays together this whole time!”

Eddie groans, titling his head back to look at the ceiling. It’s been a long, long couple of days because even now, Steve can’t stop from staring at the expanse of Eddie’s throat, knowing exactly which spots make him groan for entirely different reasons. 

“Okay, fine. You caught me,” Eddie admits, still staring at the ceiling but turning his body away from Steve and waving his arms in defeat. “I’m a fraud. A hypocrite. I enjoy a sport. You cannot imagine how much it pains me to say this out loud.” 

“Ah, so we’re doing the dramatic thing about this?” Steve mutters, shaking his head. “Eddie, you’re allowed to like things. You know that, right? You liking a sport doesn’t, I don’t know, make you any less metal or whatever. Least I don’t think so.” 

Eddie drops his arms and spins around. “Steve, Stevie, my dear sweet sunshine, I’m not sure if you remember this but I’ve made quite a name and reputation for myself in abject hatred of mainstream… everything. My credibility is destroyed.”

Steve barely chokes back his laughter. Eddie’s sounding and acting more like his Eddie, something equally as endearing as it is ridiculous. He reaches out and pulls Eddie to sit next to him on the couch, not missing the way Eddie glances at the screen to make sure he’s not missing the start of overtime. 

“You know,” Steve starts before making air quotes, “a wise brat once told me that when you finish high school, it’s time to move on from primitive concepts like popularity. Or something like that, it was a while ago. Point is, what you staked your claim to in high school doesn’t apply here. You can be weird, and loud, and anti-mainstream, and like hockey. It’s the most violent of popular sports anyways.” 

Eddie blinks at him once, then twice, before narrowing his eyes and drawing his lips into a tight smile. “Was the wise brat Henderson? That sounds like Henderson.”

Steve laughs and leans back against the couch. “Sure was. Don’t tell him I quoted him, he’ll never shut the fuck up about it.” 

“What brought on a lecture about primitive high school concepts from Dustin Henderson?” 

“He was trying to convince me to date Robin when we were spying on what turned out to be evil Russians at Starcourt who had a lab under the mall. It was a whole thing.” Steve shrugs nonchalantly.

Eddie nods slowly. “Right, yeah, the mall that exploded?” 

“Yep. Same one.” 

“Y’know, I should’ve known you had something to do with that.” Eddie smiles at him, wide and bright, and it’s a strange moment for Steve to realize he’s in love. 

He’s wholly, unconditionally, disgustingly in love with Eddie Munson, with every side and facet, with every sparkling edge of the multifaceted prism of him. Steve’s entire body sighs with relief as his heart finally, finally catches up with the rest of him. 

But there’s an overtime period about to start, and unlike this playoff game, Steve knows he has all the time he could ever need to tell him, show him, exactly how he feels. He starts by cheering for a team he knows shit about, and then by rubbing Eddie’s back when he curls over onto his knees after the Devils score the winning shot.

“Hate to break it to ya, Ed, this is very jock behavior. Think there might be a little jock in you after all.” He jokes, running his hand from the middle of Eddie’s back to the nape of his neck, circling his thumb gently into the flesh there. 

“No the fuck there isn’t,” he mumbles, sitting up straight and turning devilish smile on Steve. “But I’d like there to be.” 

a very, very happy birthday to @hexiewrites! you know that I couldn't let your birthday pass without writing Eddie as a Bruins fan. and I peppered in some of our and @maxineholtzmann's comments and insults from the playoffs liveblogging on discord. <3 hope you have a phenomenal day!!

[dirtytomatoedwrites]

Preludes and Nocturnes - Part 3

Paring: Rafe Cameron x InnocentPogue!Reader

Summary: Rafe discovers your hidden talent and now he has seen it, you have his full attention.

PART 1 / PART 2

Warnings:  18+ Smut. Darkish!Rafe. Virgin!Reader. Romance, Angst, Dub-Con, Oral (w receiving) hand job (m receiving). Not Proof-Read so mistakes are my own.

Word Count: 6K

Author Note: Sorry it's taken me long to update we've had a death in the family and it's been a lot to deal with. Writing was the last thing on my mind at the moment. I'm just putting part 3 out there but once things are settled I'll write part 4. I'd like to think there'll be more parts than 4 because the story is now starting to pick up. But it depends on how well this part does. 🧡❤️🧡

Also, I changed part 2 slightly so it may be worth re-reading before reading part 3. 🧡

For those who asked to be tagged. Thank you so much for reading and sticking with the story.  Much love and take care. ❤️

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.

Curled up on the sofa beneath a cozy blanket, you slowly blinked open your eyes, adjusting to the room's muted glow. Rafe's voice, a deep murmur, sliced through the quiet ambiance. He was sitting on the edge of an armchair, his phone held to his ear while his other hand absentmindedly glided over his buzzcut.

"Why are they stalling?" his voice barely above a whisper was undeniably firm.

"And their counteroffer? No. Not for a piece of that size. They're well aware of its rarity, right? The clarity? They stand to gain at least 40% profit once it's resold. They know it. I know it. Ninety, and that's me being generous." His fingers stilled their exploration, and his thumb wandered down to his bottom lip, hinting at the storm just beneath the surface. "No, it's non-negotiable. Look, I'm trying to be nice here, alright? But if they keep fucking around with the number, they'll soon find out I’m not so accommodating after all. No more games. I'm done with their shit—Ninety. Final offer."

Your heart pounded, every beat magnifying the gravity of Rafe's words. This was clearly far more than just ninety dollars; it hinted at an intricate web of dealings far beyond your understanding. While whispers of his dubious associations had always floated around town, hearing Rafe speak with such authority was jarring. The sheer force he wielded and the unmistakable power resonating in every syllable revealed that he wasn't just a small player in whatever this game was. He was at its very epicenter, a dominant force controlling the strings. And as this realization washed over you, a sinking sensation set in: you barely knew him at all.

"Now, about that other forty. I want it. Today." He let the words hang for a moment, his tone colder "You keeping office hours now? What the fuck do you mean 'after six'?" His voice tightened with irritation. "Nah, I don't want to hear that shit." he spat. "It's either you have it or you don't, and you should have it since you had one job yesterday; to collect."

Despite trying to stay unnoticed, your numbing arm forced you to shift slightly on the couch, catching Rafe's discerning eye. Rafe's penetrating gaze bore into you, suspending the world in a split second. Amidst the pitter-patter of raindrops against the windows, the weight of the silence pressed in until Rafe finally looked away. "I'll be there in an hour," he murmured, his voice suddenly calmer. "I have some things to take care of first."

As he disconnected the call, you swallowed.

"Is everything okay?" You asked, your voice trembled as you propped yourself up on an elbow.

Rafe approached, confidence exuding with each step. "Nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about," he reassured, leaning in for a gentle kiss on your lips.

"How long was I out?"

"About an hour, give or take," Rafe responded, his thumb brushed away a stray eyelash from your cheek. The simple, tender gesture contrasted starkly with the side of him you had just heard on the phone.

You hesitated, your curiosity getting the better of you. "Did you manage to get much done while I was asleep?" Hoping for some insight into his earlier phone conversation.

Rafe's smirk held many layers. "Yeah, handled some business, made a few calls, and I might've watched you a little...."

"Watched me? You mean you just sat there and watched me sleep?"

He moved closer, his warm breath brushing against your skin. "Not often do I see you so… relaxed around me. So yeah, I indulged a little." He murmured, pressing his lips to your cheek. "Besides, I like knowing I can make you feel good. Make you cum til you pass out. It’s up there with watching you squirt,” he grinned.

The change in topic, from shady dealings to fevered intimacy, was a dizzying experience, and you found yourself taking a deep breath to steady yourself.

"Listen," he suddenly said, leaning back to look you in the eye. “I have some business I need to wrap up. I could also do with a shower and a change of clothes." His gaze slipped down to his attire; he had changed back into his shirt, now less damp but very wrinkled. “What's your plan for dinner?

"Dinner?" You tried to keep up, the rapid change in topics leaving your thoughts scrambled. “Uh... Leftovers, I guess.”

“Wanna come over? Eat at mine instead?”

The invitation caught you off guard. The unexpectedness of it made you feel like you were navigating through a dense fog, with every step bringing a new, unanticipated revelation. But you nodded, despite the uncertainty coiling within.

Rafe's expression softened, picking up on your hesitation. He leaned in, his lips brushed against your ear. “You do know what this means, right? You'll have to deal with my company a bit longer. Think you can handle that without making a run for it?"

You tried to muster a playful retort, but his lips captured yours before you could speak, a deep, overwhelming kiss that made you weak.

Pulling back, he smiled, "I'll pick you up around six, yeah?"

“Okay.” Your voice was but a whisper.

As he moved toward the exit, the shadow of his phone call loomed over your thoughts. Only when you heard his truck roar to life did you finally exhale, sinking deeper into the sofa. Your mind was a whirl with questions you didn't know how to begin to ask, let alone answer.

By the time the clock struck 6, you were already fresh from a shower and dressed in jeans paired with a simple white vest top and an oversized cardigan. Right on cue, the low hum of Rafe's truck resonated outside, its headlights casting a gentle glow on your porch. After ensuring you had your phone and keys, you gave yourself a quick glance in the mirror and then headed out to meet him.

Suave as ever, Rafe leaned across his truck to push the door open for you. Offering his hand for support, he helped you up into the seat. A warm smile naturally bloomed on your face, and with a soft "Hey," you acknowledged his chivalry.

"Hey," he echoed, the familiar gravelly timbre warm and inviting. Without another word, he leaned in, capturing your lips with a kiss. As you pulled away for a breath, your gaze wandered over him, taking in every detail. He smelt amazing, something rich and woodsy, while the crisp black shirt and jeans he wore accentuated his toned physique. It gave him that distinct, effortless style he carried so naturally — the very essence of a kook.

As you settled beside him, a wave of self-consciousness washed over you. It wasn't a lack of confidence in your appearance—Rafe had always been vocal about how beautiful he found you. He had a candid manner of complimenting, and today's earlier affectionate proclamations were just another testament to his feelings. Yet, a nagging voice inside you questioned why someone as polished and affluent as Rafe would be into someone like you when he could easily have anyone from his own elite circle.

As the journey began, the ambiance in the truck was tranquil, but underlined by a tension you couldn't ignore. Rafe seemed to be miles away, his eyes barely leaving the road ahead and memories of his earlier phone conversation played on repeat in your head. Could his aloofness be about the business deal you overheard? Did something go wrong? The only breaks in the silence were his occasional clearing of his throat or sniff, causing you to swallow hard and stare out of your passenger window to calm your nerves.

When you exited the vehicle at Tannyhill a rush of nostalgia hit, interwoven with memories that weren’t as endearing. It was weird being there now for pleasure rather than work and at the behest of Rafe not Rose. Possibly sensing your hesitation, Rafe gently grasped your hand, leading you toward the entrance. As he swung the front door open, an overwhelming quiet enveloped the surroundings.

"Is Rose and Mr. C around?" you asked, noting the dimly illuminated hallway that stretched toward the kitchen and beyond.

"Nah, they're in the Bahamas. Business trip. They'll be there for a while." Rafe replied, his voice echoing in the quiet expanse of the house.

"What about Wheezie?"

"She's with them.”

"And Sarah?"

Rafe's face twitched slightly. "Don't know, don't care. Haven't seen her in, what, three weeks? She could be in a ditch for all I care—" His gaze met yours, "I'm kidding," he smiled. Yet, a flicker of something shadowy behind his eyes made you think otherwise.

"So, it's just the two of us tonight?" you asked, hoping to lighten the mood.

Rafe gave a nonchalant shrug, "Looks like it."

Entering the kitchen, your eyes flitted to the island, noticing several neatly stacked pizza boxes. "Planning a feast or what?"

His grin broadened, revealing the playful side you always adored. "Thought you'd be hungry after your day. Vegan, pepperoni, or drowned in cheese. Take your pick."

Laughing, you approached, your finger tracing the edge of the closest box. "Always one step ahead, aren't you?"

Rafe pulled you closer, warmth radiating from him. "Well, yeah. Gotta keep my girl happy and fed,” his voice husky as he leaned in for a kiss.

After devouring slice after slice and transitioning from the kitchen to the cozy ambiance of the living room, you and Rafe settled in, surrounded by plush cushions and the soft glow of the floor lamps. As conversations ebbed and flowed Rafe's gaze followed yours, landing on the Steinway.

"Do you want to play something?" Rafe asked lips curling into a small smile.

"Oh no you don't.” you said with a shake of your head. “I'm not falling for that, again.”

Rafe leaned in, his grin widening. "What do you mean?" he prodded, matching your playful tone.

"Every time I play, we end up..." You left the sentence hanging, heat creeping up your neck.

Rafe leaned in closer, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "We end up doing what?" he asked with faux innocence.

You gave him a knowing look, your eyes saying everything that words didn't need to. Really, Rafe?

"I like when you play." he said slowly with a shrug.

"I know you do... a little too much," you replied, your voice laced with humor and a touch of fond exasperation.

“Alright, don’t play.” He said with a sly smile as he patted the space beside him on the sofa. You found yourself irresistibly drawn to him, nestling close, the comfort of his warmth enveloping you.

Lost in a dance of gentle touches and lingering glances, Rafe pulled you closer. With each soft, deliberate kiss, the world outside faded away. His fingers toyed with the collar of your cardigan, his middle finger hooking the fabric, gently sliding it off your shoulder, as he peppered your skin with slow soft kisses.

"I think... yeah, this is the least clothing I've seen you in, not including earlier today," he murmured against your skin. "I like it. I like being able to have access to you."

As he spoke, his fingers ventured under the back of your vest, soft digits skimming upwards past your bra strap to your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His affectionate kisses stirred a profound desire within you, compelling you to cradle his face and initiate a fevered kiss of your own, a blend of lips and intertwining tongues.

"Stay," he murmured, his words a gentle plea brushing against the corner of your lips. "Stay with me," he whispered, his eyes locking onto yours.

"Tonight?" you questioned quietly, a hint of uncertainty tinging your voice.

"Tonight, tomorrow, as long as you like," he shrugged, his tone revealing a deep yearning. His candidness took you aback, causing your heart to flutter.

"I have a class in the morning," you responded, your hesitation evident.

"Of course, you'd have class on a Saturday. Who takes a class on a Saturday?"

"It's for extra credit," you playfully huffed.

"I'm sure it is, you lil freak.” Rafe remarked with an amused smile as he bit down on your shoulder. You hissed in response to the sudden, sharp pain. He immediately soothed the area with his tongue, a slow and sensual gesture that had you pressing your thighs together.

"What time?" he murmured against your skin.

"Hm?" you managed to reply, your mind struggling to focus.

"What time is your class?" he repeated, his lips still dangerously close to your neck.

"Ten," you answered, regaining some semblance of coherence.

"Okay," Rafe said, his voice low and husky as he made plans. "I’ll drive you home, you grab your stuff, and then I'll take you to class…" His words trailed off as his lips grazed the soft skin of your neck once more. He paused, pulling back slightly to search your face, his gaze filled with understanding. "But it's not just about your class, is it?" There was a knowing look in his eyes, a hint that he comprehended some of your apprehension, even though it remained unspoken.

"Don't…" you began as you licked your lips. "Don't you think we might be moving a bit fast?" you whispered. The pace of things had taken a sharp turn; just yesterday, you were literally hiding from him, and today, not only had you let him finger you into a coma you now found yourself wrapped around him like a scarf, his hand exploring beneath your clothes like he owned you. It was only natural to worry that things were progressing way too rapidly, burning too brightly, and possibly destined to fizzle out just as quickly as it had started.

"Nah, I don't." Rafe drawled as his nose brushed against your shoulder, inhaling your scent. “If we were moving fast, I would have fucked you a long time ago.”

You jerked your head away, staring at him with wide eyes while Rafe smiled, clearly enjoying your worried expression.

"What?" you asked softly.

“Oh, yeah.” Rafe nodded, “In fact, I would have fucked you quite a few times by now, in every position I could think of.” he said nonchalantly. A deep chuckle escaped him as he relished your deer-in-the-headlights expression. “But I also get that all of this is new for you, so..." his fingers traced your jaw. "We’ll take it slow. Until I can't hold back any longer."

"Rafe!" you breathed, and he threw his head back with a hearty laugh.

"I'm kidding," he laughed, his eyes sweeping over your features like a tender caress. "I'm kidding."

"So if I stay over..." you began, shifting nervously in his embrace. "We’re not..."

"Nah, we won't," he assured, understanding your apprehension. “But I can't promise to keep my hands or mouth off of you. It’s only fair, right? After all the stress you’ve put me through.” He murmured. 

“Stress! I give you stress-”

“So much fucking stress” You could feel the smile on his lips as he pressed them against your cheek, and you wondered if he could tell you were blushing. “Stay,” he said again, his tone resolute, treating it as the final word on the matter.

"Alright... I'll stay."

As the night wore on, the comforting cadence of your conversation intertwined with the weight of the day, gradually lulling you into a drowsy state. Feeling your eyelids grow heavy, Rafe kissed your temple softly. "Come on," he whispered, wrapping his fingers around yours and leading you up the winding stairs to his room.

Stepping into Rafe's bedroom for the first time, you were taken aback. The space was pristine, a stark contrast to the wild, chaotic tales of mayhem that accompanied him. Everything had its place, from the perfectly aligned books on his desk to the immaculately ironed shirts in his open closet.

Rummaging through his belongings for a brief moment, he emerged with an old jersey and a pair of shorts. "Here, try these” he suggested, handing them to you.

"In just one day, we've exchanged a lot of clothes” you said with a soft chuckle.

Rafe's eyes danced with mischief. "Well, if you want, I'm happy for us to ditch the clothes altogether."

Rolling your eyes playfully, you retorted, "Keep dreaming, Cameron."

His response was accompanied by a sly, teasing grin, "Oh, I already have." As he began to methodically unbutton his shirt, his captivating eyes held yours in a magnetic pull. Although you had already seen him shirtless. Tonight, the ambiance carried a different weight. There was an intimacy in the air that made your cheeks flush, causing you to divert your gaze to the wooden floor.

"I'll just… uh, freshen up before bed," you stammered, trying to find an escape from the mounting tension.

"Sure," he said, pointing towards a door on the side. "Bathroom's right there. There's a pack of toothbrush heads in the cabinet; help yourself."

"Thanks," you replied with a grateful smile, seizing the opportunity to step out just as the sound of his belt buckle being opened reached your ears.

In the dimly lit bathroom, you sank to the edge of the tub, your hand pressing hard into the porcelain, feeling its cold, smooth surface beneath your fingertips.

Sharing a bed with Rafe wasn’t just a simple act of two people sleeping side-by-side. It symbolized a budding intimacy, a fragile trust slowly unfurling between the two of you. And yet, the weight of his weird phone call pressed heavily on your chest. Could you really trust someone whose life seemed tangled in webs of secrets, lurking just beneath the surface? Could you willingly let yourself be drawn into his world, knowing full well it could be dangerous?

Biting your lip, you pushed those turbulent thoughts to the back of your mind, you changed into the clothes he had lent you and brushed your teeth. After a lingering glance in the mirror, searching for some kind of assurance, and taking a deep, steadying breath, you braced yourself for the night ahead and headed back to the bedroom.

Rafe was already cozied up in bed, the soft light from his phone casting a glow on his face. He had changed into a pyjama pants his chest bare.

"I haven't even left the room for two minutes and you're already sliding into some girl's DMs?" you teased.

As Rafe met your gaze, warmth filled his eyes as he admired your appearance, clearly liking the way you looked in his clothes. “The only DMs I'd ever slide into are yours, but I've already got the real thing." he casually remarked, his voice carrying a hint of affection.

You couldn't help but laugh, your nose scrunching up at his comment. "Damn, that's some next-level cheesiness. You're quite the cheeseball, you know that?" you teased.

A mischievous twinkle sparkled in his eyes. "Only 'cause you're a sucker for cheesy romantic gestures. That shit gets you wet." he replied with a small smirk.

Mouth agape you looked at him flabbergasted only for Rafe to downright smile his pearly white teeth on full display.

“Rafe! You really can't go five minutes without turning something sweet into something, just--" You playfully tossed a pillow at him which he caught. Pulling you to him Rafe planted a quick kiss to your lips before heading to the bathroom.

With Rafe momentarily out of sight, you took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The reality of sharing a bed with him was nerve-wracking. Sliding beneath the soft covers, you felt the smooth sheets against your skin, their coolness momentarily providing a reprieve from the weight of your racing thoughts.

The bed, although large and spacious, suddenly felt like a confining space. Each moment of hesitation, every heartbeat, every fleeting memory of your past interactions echoed loudly in the silence of the room. Sharing a bed with someone was always an intimate act, but with Rafe, the stakes felt higher. It was more than just physical proximity; it was about letting him into the vulnerable spaces you had never shared with anyone including your heart.

As you laid there in the soft glow of his side lamp, you tried to focus on the present. You reminded yourself that Rafe said you'll take it slow. Tonight was about simply connecting, not necessarily about taking a step further.

The bathroom door opened, and you saw Rafe's silhouette framed by the soft glow of the bedside lamp. He approached the bed, his movements careful, perhaps sensing your apprehension.

"Everything okay?" he asked softly.

You took a deep breath, "Yeah, just...thinking."

Rafe sat down beside you, his hand gently caressing your arm. "If you're not comfortable, we can figure something else out."

You shook your head, mustering a small smile. "No, it's not that. It's just as you said... It's all new. But I want to be here. With you."

Rafe leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Alright we'll take it one step at a time, yeah?"

With that assurance, you snuggled closer to him, feeling the warmth and security of his embrace. "One step at a time" you repeated softly.

As your eyes flutter open, the silhouette before you takes shape, dominating your field of vision. Gradually, your gaze adjusts, revealing the familiar features of Rafe as you shake off the remnants of a deep dream. The surroundings come into focus bit by bit. The early hour is apparent; it's so early that the outside remains cloaked in darkness, illuminated by a luminous full moon.

You had drifted to sleep cradled in Rafe's embrace but now he's beside you. His touch is a gentle caress, his thumb tracing the smooth curve of your jaw. He regards you openly, his gaze intense enough to cause warmth to spread across your skin, prompting you to look away. You wondered how long he had been staring at you... touching you...

"What time is it?" Your voice is a soft murmur, barely breaking the tranquility of the moment.

"Four thirty"

"Can't sleep?" you asked softly.

Rafe shook his head no. "Can't sleep, either huh?" he asked his words tender.

You manage a small smile, "I think I'm just not used to sleeping in someone else's bed."

Rafe nodded in understanding. "Maybe I can help with that, hmm? It worked pretty well last time.” Gently Rafe turned your face towards him and leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. Your heart flutters as his kiss lingers, his tongue delicately exploring yours.

Sheets thrown back, your jersey inches upwards, as Rafe moves on top of you, his lips creating a scorching trail down your neck and further south. Each feather-light kiss ignites a tingle, intensifying as his tongue meets your nipple. His lips move lower, soft kisses meet your sternum while his fingers brush the edge of your shorts and underwear, prompting your hands to instinctively stop him.

"We won't go all the way," he promises in a voice thick with longing while lust blown eyes stare up at you. “I just want a taste. One little taste. I deserve it, for being patient.” His lips linger around your navel, and you grant him a hesitant nod. Gently, he removed your shorts and underwear, leaving you vulnerable and exposed.

Despite your urge to shield yourself, Rafe, ever-so-gently, parts your legs, positioning himself in the intimate space between. His lips graze your hip, making your skin flutter. "Ever had a guy go down on you before?" His voice is an alluring mix of curiosity and yearning.

With a deep breath and a gentle shake of your head, you whispered “No”

Rafe smiles at your answer, his lips brushing your skin again. "So many firsts," he murmurs seductively.

His attention returns between your thighs, teasing and exploring, with soft kisses leading to your mound. His head drops lower and he slowly swipes his tongue over your clit. The sensation is a mix of ticklish delight and sinful pleasure prompting a soft gasp from your lips.

Rafe licks you slowly, teasingly, humming in approval with every wet swipe of his tongue. The swirl of his tongue between your folds begins to overwhelm you, and you try to pull away only for Rafe to firmly yank you back, his grasp keeping you anchored to him and your legs spread.

His tongue stops its gentle caressing and probes deeper, his lips nestling against your sex while his tongue hungrily delves within.

“Ooh—” you whimpered, tremors shooting throughout your body with each stroke of his tongue. His enthusiasm grows as he drinks in your reactions, his own moans blending with yours in a symphony of pleasure.

“Too much- too much- ah-” you squirm when his tongue began to flick at your clit.

Pulling away from your wet centre Rafe licked and sucked on your inner thigh. “No- you’re fine.” Rafe commanded, his determined gaze pinning you in place. “You’re fine. Just relax...”

He guides your hand to his buzzcut and as your fingers move hesitantly over his head, he returned to lapping skilfully at your pussy.

“Oh, my god, Rafe-" you whimper, your fingers scratching at his scalp as you buck underneath him.

Wrapping his arms around your legs, Rafe continued to lick your wet centre until you’re shuddering. He pulls his head back slightly. You could see his mouth shiny with your arousal, a smile curling his lips.

“Fuck, you taste sweet. Like honey.” his voice is like gravel, raw with pent desire. “Nah, sweeter than honey...” He muses. His fingers part your soaked pussy lips exposing your swollen clit and his tongue lovingly suckles it while his fingers tease around the entrance of your tight hole.

“Ohmygod, ohplease…"

"Yeah? This what you want? Want me to finger your sweet little cunt?” he chuckled teasingly.

"Please… please…” you beg, until finally he sinks his middle finger in you. You let out a cry as he slowly worked his finger back and forth within you, stoking your walls and coaxing your orgasm to the surface.

The feel of his tongue lashing at your clit, his finger twisting deliciously, along with the unrelenting focus of his gaze, hunger blazing in his eyes, has you moaning in abandon.

Your back involuntarily bows off the bed, a strangled cry leaving your lips as your fingers curled the back of his head.

It’s glorious when you cum.

A kaleidoscope of colour appears behind your closed eyes, created by the vibrations of Rafe groaning in approval and the succulent swirl of his lips and tongue.

Rafe removed his finger and his tongue quickly replaced it, delving deep into your creaming pussy. His nose pressed against your clit as he noisily slurped and lapped at you. The explicit, wet sounds of him devouring your pussy so raw and unashamed create a beautiful symphony that fills the room.

“Holy shit ha—“ you gasped with a smile. Sudden, swipes at your clit with his tongue had you oversensitive, your hips twitching with aftershocks.

Your eyes open, landing on Rafe still positioned between your thighs. With a tenderness that belies the moment's raw passion, he places soft wet kisses on your inner thighs, grounding you in the present. The weight of what has transpired gradually dawns on you – the unexpected progression from kissing to oral, something you hadn't anticipated, let alone think you'd enjoy as much as you did washes over you.

Before you can overthink, you lean in, initiating a passionate kiss, fueled by a desperate hunger intensified by the taste of yourself on his lips.

Rafe's fervor shows no signs of waning. He pushes you back against the pillows and then crawls over you, his desire unmistakable. Bracing himself near your head, he slowly lowers his pajama pants, causing your eyes to widen as you gaze downward.

He's big.

Big, long and thick.

Suddenly, his cockiness and confidence makes perfect sense. All that big dick energy. Naturally, you find yourself yearning to feel his raw power. Want to feel him thrusting inside you. Yet amidst this desire, a sudden thought emerges—a fear that you might not be able to handle all of him. You might not be able to please him fully when the time comes.

Rafe takes your hand in his, guiding it along his already weeping cock, and you feel him tense up and take a sharp breath as your fingers make contact. Encouraged by this reaction, your other hand wanders over his body, feeling the hardness of his abdomen. Both hands exploring him curiously, hesitantly.

"Like this…" he murmurs. With his hand over your own, holding his cock, Rafe sets a pace which brings forth soft moans from his lips. He moves his hand away to watch you carry on without him, completely entranced by the sight before him. The sight of you working his thick cock.

Clear pearls of pre-cum bead at the tip as an indication of how turned on he is by your touch. Rafe leans in to kiss you passionately while taking your hand once again and leading it up to his sensitive tip.

“Right. Here," he breathes into your mouth as he tells you to focus there. Your fingers instinctively curl tightly around the mushroom tip, fisting it as you become more confident, eliciting groans from Rafe's lips.

His hand moves from your fingers, finding its way to your throat. It curls around your neck in a possessive grip, while his lips reconnect with yours. His moans escalate in intensity, his desire palpable, and his voice becomes choppy. 'Keep going... keep going... just like that, baby. Just like that...."

Closely following his gestures and facial expressions. Your gaze remains fixated on his captivating face, magnetized by the range of emotions playing across it — the awe knitting in his brows, the quickening pace of his breath, and the roped corded muscles of his neck as his body became rigid.

"Fuck....” He releases a long sigh, color creeping up his chest, throat, and cheeks. “Long strokes- long strokes…” He commands his voice cracking. You obey, your hand stroking his length from root to tip. Your fingers glide easily, lubricated by his pre-cum.

Rafe's eyes rolled to the back of his head as he muttered something inaudible, but soon they found yours again.

"I want to fuck you so bad. I’m tryin to be patient. I’m tryin, but god I want to fuck you… I need to fuck you...” His voice trailed off into a desperate whimper, deep from the very core of him. His hips swayed to the rhythm of your hand as he fucked into it, each thrust quickening in pace.

"How?" you find yourself whispering in awe, astounded by the shift in power between you. You've heard him bark orders over the phone, full of confidence and dominance, yet here he was wrecked and vulnerable just from your touch. You would be lying if you said you didn't relish your newfound power. "How would you do it, Rafe? How would you fuck me?"

Rafe stared into your eyes, cock twitching in your grasp.

"I want to watch you ride my dick... watch you scream while you squirt all over it..." His confession hangs heavy in the air as he bares all before you.

"What else, Rafe? What else do you want?" you whisper, your fingers gently circling your clit while your other hand worked his cock.

"I wanna fuck your mouth. Want to fill your soft, pretty mouth with my cum. Watch you swallow it." His fingers softly brush against your lips, his middle and index finger pressed at its entrance. Entranced, you twirl your tongue around his digits before greedily sucking them into your mouth. Rafe utters a throaty groan before removing his fingers, his lips crashing onto yours in a crude kiss.

"What else?" you moaned, rubbing your clit and stroking his cock faster.

"Want to fuck your ass," he whispered through gritted teeth. "Have you on all fours - make you fucking take it.”

"Oh god, Rafe-" you whimpered, eyes wide with shock. You’ve never had a guy talk about doing sexual things to you let alone anything so vulgar. And yet- you could feel your orgasm on the brink of flooding your senses just from his words.

“I want to fuck and fill every part of you and I know you’ll let me. I just know you will…” Rafe repeated softly, confidently, "Do you know why? Hm? Why you'll take whatever I choose to give you? Why in the end you'll let me fuck you however I want?” He whispered his eyes boring into your own. “Because you're hungry for this just as much as I am. You want me. Just as much as I want you.”

His dark words sent you spiraling into a chaotic climax. Crying out in pleasure, waves of euphoria washed over you, causing your hips to involuntarily jerk and thrust up off the bed.

In harmony with your climax, Rafe reached his own. Droplets of his thick white cum painted your bare stomach and thighs. His body trembled with pleasure, his breathing stuttered, while his throbbing cock continued to pulse in your grasp.

His moans, raw and desperate, are tinged with a clear sense of relief. It's the relief that comes from finally having his pleasure reciprocated by you, even if only through the gentle touch of your hands, and the utter bliss that this brings.

Breathless Rafe collapses back against the pillows, his hand trembling with pleasure found yours once more, and together you slowed the rhythm of your stroking, savouring the final drops of cum from his spent cock.

Exhausted but utterly content, Rafe closes his eyes for a moment. When they open again, his dilated blue pupils are fixated on you. He cracks a satisfied grin.

He doesn't take his gaze away as you observe your hand. It's covered in his cum, an indicator of his pent up desire for you. Without uttering a word, your hand moves towards your lips, and curiously, your tongue tentatively darts out, brushing against your fingertips.

The taste is unlike anything you've ever experienced before, earthy and slightly salty and yet uniquely him. You moan as your tongue continues its exploration, carefully cleaning each digit.

"Fuckkk..." Rafe groans before pulling you in for a desperate kiss.

The gentle morning light filtered through the curtains, illuminating your face and the figure beside you in a soft, dappled glow. But the tranquility was abruptly interrupted by a glance at the time on your phone.

You were late.

Terribly late.

For someone who valued being on time, the day was already spiraling out of control. Scrambling into your jeans, you noticed Rafe stirring, his sleepy eyes meeting the clock, then your frenzied actions. Silently, with a steadiness you envied, he started dressing.

Your vest and cardigan from the previous night lay draped over a chair. Snatching them up, you slipped them on in a rush.

Rafe's offer to drive you to class was a godsend. Ten minutes later, freshened up and emerging from his bedroom, you expressed your gratitude with a beaming smile. As you walked past him, Rafe playfully swatted your butt, eyes twinkling with mischief. You let out a playful yelp, your laughter blending with his soft chuckle as you admonished him, promising to get him back later.

At your house, you grabbed your bag, textbook and notes in a flurry. You considered changing outfits but ditched the idea after another anxious glance at the time. It was only a two-hour class anyway and wasn’t worth the additional stress.  As you darted to his truck, a realization hit – your dad was coming home today. Another night at Rafe's was certainly out of the question. 

During the drive, you explained the situation to Rafe, expecting, perhaps even bracing for, a hint of disappointment. But instead, he simply nodded. Now, as the silence stretched between you, you were wrestling with the idea of revisiting the words he'd uttered last night. But decided it wasn't worth mentioning. They were merely fantasies after all—desperate things said in the heat of the moment, just to intensify the experience... Right?

As he pulled up in front of your building he leaned in to kiss you. You cut it short with an apologetic smile promising to call him later.

No sooner had you settled into your seat in class did your phone vibrate. It was a message from Rafe.

"Friend's having a party tomorrow night. Think your dad would be cool with it?"

A pause ensued as you deliberated, finally responding. "Should be. But I don't have anything to wear. Is it a bonfire type of thing?"

His reply was swift. "Don't worry about it. Shopping later. My treat."

A surge of conflicting emotions threatened to spill over as you absorbed his words, your fingers quivering slightly over the screen. "Rafe that's too generous. I can't."

But his resolution was clear even in text. "Why? You're with me. Right?"

You paused, chewing on your lip. It wasn’t lost on you what his words meant. What they implied. "Yes. But are you sure?"

He sent back a single word, filled with resolve: "Always."

—————————————————————————————

Thank you for reading. I hope you've enjoyed it. Thanks for liking, commenting and reblogging. 🧡🧡🧡 Part 4 coming soon

MASTERLIST

[etheries1015]

Hi, I hope you're well and I'm sorry to randomly pop in but I finished reading this and I just have to let my sad brain that's obsessed with Lilia go off.

You had Vil and Rook help give Mc a makeover right? What if they found out Mc got stood up. Me personally (I'm biased), I feel like they'd become subtly more protective. Not intrusive, not controlling, but they'd keep a more watchful eye on Mc because they don't want to see them get hurt again.

Okay, okay, but then my brain needs an extra layer added in with angst, so Lilia notices this change in behavior from the Pomefiore beans. At first he's glad Mc has people looking out for them, glad they have a support system. But Rook figures out it was Lilia who stood Mc up and tells Vil. The two start trying to find reasons why Mc shouldn't be around Lilia without telling them that's what they're trying to do directly, just "Oh Lilia’s in there, hey let's go hang out in the courtyard instead!" Subtle diversions.

Lilia starts becoming more aware of their behavior. He tries to convince himself that it isn't a big deal and things were awkward there anyway, maybe distance was the best for him and Mc. However, Silver starts noticing Lilia is more focused on Mc, and starts voicing that he misses their company. Silver has a general understanding of what happened that rainy day, as his father let a bit of it off his chest "Oh, Don't worry, there was just an unfortunate misunderstanding that needed to be cleared up!" Silver isn't taking any shit, he confronts his dad. When Lilia explains that he's too old for romance, much less romance with a human, Silver scolds him about how he never raised him to be that way. Why did Lilia believe so differently than he tended to in this singular instance? What did race have to do with the situation? "If Mc is undeserving of a chance with you, why did you take me in and give me a chance to be in your life?"

Kinda went on a tangent...if none of that made sense I apologize, I'm very sleep-deprived and angsty rn lmao. Anyway, take care of yourself and have a good day 😊

I absolutely love this take!!! I'll give you a little more detail below, however, you outlined it very well.

Part 2 of Lilia X reader Rejection

Time had passed agonizingly slow at ramshackle dorm. Not only had you contracted a cold during your outside endeavors of rain and heartbreak from Lilias rejection, you also couldn't bring yourself to face any other students in the state of misery you were in. This, of course, had not gone unnoticed by a few. Ace and Deuce were naturally worried for you, however Rook and Vil were also left out of the loop with what happened that day raising their worries and causing them to come to you about it.

Coming by ramshackle and seeing you in such a state of misery was truly heartbreaking for the two. You opened the door with puffy eyes and a running nose, hunched over with a blanket covering the majority of your body. Immediately Vil sprung into action, pulling the blanket off of you and preparing a bath while Rook had made soup and medicine for you. Whilst chastising you for your sudden disappearance and sickly state, you had finally broken down and had given them the rundown of all that night's events. You needed support, and luckily the two were more than happy to give it to you. After learning it had been Lilia who stood you up and then humiliate you in front of the gates of the school, by the time you had indeed returned to the school, you noticed the way Vil and Rook would try and steer you away from any places that Lilia could be. They couldn't hide this very well, I mean, you knew all of Lilias's classes and the places he often visited in the school. Who wouldn't be able to notice the way your close friends had tried to distract you from this?

They noticed how standoffish you now were, how your look off in the distance was so distracted, so empty. They were, however, not the only ones to see this change in you. Lilia would steal glances from you from across the room and the halls, and simply thinking to himself you would soon forget your silly feelings and move forward with your smile per usual. He was grateful for Vil and Rook being by your side and figured this would be for the best. Being away from Lilia for the time being while you sorted out your emotions was going to be much better for you, and perhaps you'd be able to find yourself around Lilia like you used to. The time when you stayed up late with him playing video games, how you called him at the most random of times to tell him of your day, the way you would always be surrounded by so much fun. He was excited to get back to that, to the day you forgot your romantic feelings for the fae, and he could enjoy your company once more.

however...those days did not come as he had hoped.

It can be hard to imagine Lilia regretting something he believed so strongly on initially, however, he can't stop the stinging of pain that plagued his heart after seeing you in such disarray. The way you sat in the rain alone the way the rain blended in with your tears and the way your eyes were red...from him. He caused that pain. The bitterness he had felt from your confrontation hadn't gone unnoticed, those around him had begun to realize there was a shift ever so slightly around him. The air had become thicker and his smiles seemed to be far more forced, much like this instance with his son.

"Father," Silver approached the fae, "I haven't seen (y/n) around per usual. Has something happened between the two of you?" He inquired. Silver had rather missed your company, your cooking and the kindness you had shown him. He found you almost like another parental figure, Silver was incredibly fond of you and since the moment you had confided in your feelings for Lilia he was cheering you on from the sidelines in your advances to his father. When you had vanished without as much as a letter, Silver had become anxious and decided it be best to follow up with Lilia. The red eyed fae couldn't bring himself to meet the gaze of his child , avoiding it by staring at the computer screen had had been playing games on with a forced smile painted upon his lips.

"Don't worry, Silver. (Y/n) and I had a simple misunderstanding, and they are simply processing their emotions right now. Sometimes distance is the best cure for such fallouts," he said. The room became silent for a moment that felt like an eternity, before Silver took in a deep sigh and confronted his thoughts to Lilia.

"You rejected them?" He said quietly, Lilias head perking up in slight alarm at the sudden question. The turned on his chair to face the taller human, gaze far more serious than before.

"I see you knew about the prefects growing affections for me?" Lilia asked, attempting to keep his tone at a calm and collected manor. Silver flinched at the look his father was giving him, yet cringing ever so slightly at the idea of confronting his guardian in such a way. He nodded gently and fiddled with his fingers nervously.

"...why?" Silver asked, his gaze seemingly afraid to look into his fathers eyes. He knew he had kept this from him and indeed felt a little bit guilty, however what was he to do? He was certain Lilia returned the feelings, why the sudden change of behavior?

"They're a human, and I'm an aging fae. It simply was not meant to be," Lilia tried to quickly wave off his explanation to his son in hopes the subject would be dropped, yet the words he had used stung silvers heart. With his eyebrows furrowing and the increasingly frustrated feeling bursting in his chest, Silver began to question the fae far more sternly than before.

"What do you mean?" He asked, "So what if (y/n) is a human? They obviously are very important to you. Weren't you the one to tell me that fae and humans should live together in peace despite those differences?" Silver sounded almost desperate, hoping for some sort of explanation from the contrarian that sat before him. Lilia let out a deep sigh, he could tell that his patience for this conversation was running thin.

"Silver. This is...different. Perhaps you don't fully understand seeing as you're human as well, but we live...a very long time. I am a very old age, and I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to properly handle a romantic relationship, much less with a human who has time to find someone who will grow with them instead of focusing their time on a...dying fae," Lilia hesitated the final words, quickly attempting to dismiss this with a wave of his hand as he turned away from his son, however the silver-haired boy scowled with astonishment at this with a hint of sadness in his shaking voice.

"Yet you took me in as your own, father," Silver pointed out. Before Lilia could respond to his, he continued.

"I thought you raised me to see our races as equals. You gave me the chance to grow as your son, yet you won't give (y/n) the chance to grow as your lover? They care about you very much, that is plain to see as day. I think...those feelings are far more important than the way you see age. You can't throw aside how they feel because they should find another "human" to share their lives with, we both know that is not what (y/n) wants. I'm very sad you are talking like this, Father. I'm disappointed in you, I thought you were wiser than that." Leaving Lilia stunned and wide-eyed, Silver walked out of the room. Lilia let out a shaky sigh as he shook his head and scoffed at the ridiculous situation, his head burying into his hands. A moment of silence rang before his eyes closed and head lay upon his desk, muttering beneath his breath;

"I miss them..."

--

Check out my masterlist!

[mcverse]

☆ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝: 𝐘𝐞𝐬/𝐍𝐨

☆ 𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞: 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧

☆ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 619

☆ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞 (𝐧𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐨)

☆ ​𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞

✮ No surprise, Sniper Mask would rather combust where he stands if he ever does something so uncool in front of his darling.

✮ That goes for if his darling ever, at any point, thinks he was uncool. His heart couldn’t take his darling thinking so lamely of him.

✮ His darling was his before he even got the chance to introduce himself. Like the first time he saw his darling, the very first thing that went through his head was an assertion of scenes on their future together.

✮ Like all Yanderes, Sniper Mask is protective of his darling. It doesn’t matter if they’re a player or a masked person like him. Neither of those are good odds. He’s stuck to their hip like glue.

✮ He’s a starer but his darling can’t tell from looking at him because of his mask. They could probably feel it though, but most of the time, they shake it off as the world has eyes on them.

✮ He knows his darling’s injured before they do; he remembers everything about their body and that new bruise wasn't there before. How they didn’t feel it, he’s not sure but he’ll tend to his darling’s needs.

✮ He knows when his darling is hungry based on how sluggish they are. A tired and dazed darling gives him more to worry about instead of using his time to admire them.

✮ Nothing about his darling goes unnoticed by him. Nothing. He’s his darling's second pair of eyes. And hands if needed.

✮ Speaking of hands, wherever he goes, he is always hand in hand with his darling. It just reassures him they’re there and safe for now. It also helps him know if they separate.

✮ When he’s not helping his darling in a crisis, and where the moment feels just right to pass up given their situation; he’s more talkative and soft spoken because usually it’s about what happens once his darling gets out of there—and his darling is sweet enough to include him in their future plans. That’s the type shit that makes it difficult for him to not want to scope them up in his arms and kiss them breathless.

✮ I wanna say he doesn’t get jealous, but that’s not true. One, he’s Yandere. Jealousy is canon. Two, for someone so worried about looking cool or uncool in front of someone, that doesn’t sound like a very secure man.

✮ Hates when another man saves his darling. He’s grateful, really, but they're stealing his shine. He’s his darling hero, not whoever the fuck.

✮ And if his darling praises whoever saves them, omg, there is no reason to be so upset as he is. The silent treatment is double, and the person is on his kill list—he’ll remember this to the day they actually die; whether it be collateral damage or purposely planned.

✮ He’s the Yandere that knows the way he thinks is unhealthy but he’s too far gone to do anything about it. Right around the same time, he starts to care less about how wrong his obsession gets because it only ever benefits his darling.

✮ He doesn’t need to kidnap or stalk because it’s the middle of a survival game, where could he stash his darling? And why stalk his darling if he can observe them from a few feet away?

✮ Kuon compliments don’t have the same effect on Sniper Mask as if his darling gave them.

✮ Like he’s still semi speechless because like okay???? You're weird girl.

✮ When his darling compliments him, he’s speechless—-his face is on fire under that mask & his heart is literally beating in his ears. He just knows if he opens his mouth, he’s gonna fumble and humiliate himself. Don’t stop though, he likes that!

[melloeyed]

Double Trouble

Johnathan Ohnn (The Spot) X GN! Reader

A/N: The reader has the same superpowers as The Polka-Dot Man from The Suicide Squad only with a few added cosmic quirks. Enjoy!

On the busy streets of Brooklyn, The Spot and Y/N walk past the oblivious citizens, donning their ‘inconspicuous’ disguises. Spot only had on a loose grey gym jacket, green sunglasses, and a brown wrinkled fedora, while Y/N wore a orange bucket hat, purple glasses, and an oversized red Hawaiian shirt.

Their disguises barely even covered the multiple spots on their pale skin. How the hell did they even go unnoticed?

The disguised duo walked towards the convenience store window, cupping their hands on the window in sync as they lean their heads in to get a better view.

“Ok, remember the plan?” Spot whispered.

“This is so stupid…” Y/N muttered.

“It’ll work, trust me!”

“Yeah, right. My idea was better!”

“Oh, just shut up and follow my lead!”

Y/N rolls their multicolored dot eyes as they follow Spot in the convenience store, re-running his plan in their head.

‘Distract the cashier while I steal the money from the ATM machine. Got it?’

Y/N sighs, walking towards the food isles. They clutch onto their rainbow backpack straps in anticipation as they peek over one the food isles, glancing at Spot, waiting for the signal.

“Excuse me, do you have uh, an ATM machine?” The Spot asked the cashier. “Yeah, around here in the back.” The cashier replied, barely looking at Spot.

“Preferably not chained to the wall…?” Spot muttered.

“What?”

“Uh, nothing!”

Y/N’s dot eyes lit up when the Spot looked at them, gesturing his head towards the cashier while walking towards the ATM. Y/N clenched their spotted fists as they take a deep breath, squeezing their eyes shut.

‘You got this, Y/N. You got this!’ They whispered to themself.

Y/N slowly jogs towards the cashier, rolling their shoulders in preparation. They clear their throat, trying to think of a distracting conversation to start.

“Uh, hi! I, uh…heard there was this…beverage…snack that uh…just came out. And I was wondering uh, where…do you sell it here…? If you do sell it here… can you, uh…tell me…where you…sell it? Which is…here…?” Y/N asked, sheepishly. The cashier just kept his eyes glued to the phone as a short pause passed.

Real clever, Y/N.

“What? I have no idea what you mean, man.” The cashier said, not even bothering to look at them. Embarrassment and frustration began to bubble in Y/N’s chest as they quickly tried to think of another distraction. Looking towards Spot’s direction, they tried their best not to facepalm when they see him struggling with the ATM.

Y/N though that this plan was the most ridiculous! It was boring, slow-paced, and embarrassing! They glance back towards the cashier, partially relieved that he didn’t bother to look up. Looking around quickly, Y/N tries to distract the cashier again. They burst out into fake laughter.

“Hahahaha! Hahaha! Y-You’re so funny! You don’t…know what I mean! Hahaha! You’re a…funny guy!” They said, with the most ‘convincing’ laughs.

Y/N was not good at this.

They quickly stopped their laughing and tried to think of another diversion, clearing their throat again.

“Uh… w-what I mean is-“

“Hey, who left this ATM on the sidewalk?” Someone said outside.

Oh, shit.

Y/N heart began to quicken when the cashier finally looked up. They both turn towards the loud banging noise from the back of the store along with the frustrated grunts that came with it. The Spot was trying to forcefully push the whole ATM through the smaller portal by bouncing on top of it. Repeat, tried. Y/N couldn’t take it anymore.

“Are you fucking serious?!” They shouted.

“Yo, what you doing back here, man?” The cashier said, picking up a bat and surprisingly ignoring Y/N. (Which offended them.)

“Nothing, nothing. Everything’s cool, man. All good.” Spot said, jumping on top of the ATM to push it even further into the portal, “Just forgot my PIN number-“

“Get yourself out of here!”

The cashier tries to hit Spot with the bat, but thankfully he dodges it in time. On instinct, Y/N runs towards the cashier, balling their fists preparing to attack. The multicolored polka dots on their skin quickly began to glow along with their dot eyes.

Before quickly flickering off like a lightbulb.

Y/N looks at their hands, baffled by the failed attempt to use their powers.

“What?! No! Not now!” They shouted.

“Uh, Y/N a little help here!” Spot shouted, cowering away from the cashier’s swings. Y/N runs after the two trying to land a blow on the back of cashier’s head, only to end up slipping on a soda can and falling hard on their butt. On the ground, Y/N rolls their eyes when they hear Spot’s pathetic comments towards the aggressive man while he dropped different products from the isles.

“Sir, please just let us rob you!”

“There’s no reason to bring wood into this!”

“We’ve never robbed anybody in our life, please don’t make this a bad experience for us!”

“Bad experience? I’m trying to run a business here!” The angry cashier replied.

“With your goddamn head in the clouds?!” Y/N snarked at him, getting back on their feet.

Only to end up slipping and falling on their face.

“Why is the floor so slippery?!”

This was the duo’s very first robbery attempt. Obviously, Spot and Y/N didn’t have the best resources at hand when it came to being bad guys, but they were never the type of criminals to give up easily. Especially, Spot.

Y/N had a strong feeling that her partner in crime was a whole lot nervous than they were for their first robbery. Y/N was already fed up at the soft attempts of beginning their villainy, but can you blame them? They just wanted to get dangerous, kick some ass, and burn down buildings! But, the Spot was always there to dial them down.

Ever since the explosion incident that happened a year ago, the duo agreed to stick together and began to get ahold of their newfound cursed powers. They had pretty awesome powers too! I mean what could be better than having ability to make portals that can go to anywhere and anyplace you desire or summon glowing multicolored polka dots with omnipotent destructive powers?

There were a few gimmicks of their powers here and there, but to be honest, they could barely control it!

And now here the two were.

One running away from an angry cashier with a bat, while the other continues to slip and fall on the cluttered slippery floor with each step they take.

After the longest 23 seconds of their lives, Spot finally managed to trap the cashier in a nearby portal and Y/N finally gets up without slipping. Y/N helps Spot get his foot unstuck from one of the shelves. After the two quickly run towards the ATM, they place soda cans on the ground to push the large machine more easily.

“I told you this was a bad plan!” Y/N spat.

“Oh, yeah, that figures considering how much of a big help you were back there!” Spot spat back.

“Hey, the floor was already slippery before and if you weren’t such a klutz back there, I would’ve already handled him!” Y/N said.

“Well, what was I supposed to do?! Just sit there and let him hit me?!” Spot fired back.

“Hmm, I dunno maybe teleport him outta here! I’m sure it doesn’t take a genius!”

“Hey, I can’t think straight when I’m under pressure! You’ve known that since the day we met! Stop treating me like I’m a wuss!”

“That’s because you are one, when it comes to situations like this! Plus, my plan would’ve been a whole lot better!”

“Your plan was nuts!”

“I just said that we should walk into the store, knock out the cashier, time him up, lock him in the janitors closet, get the money, and get rid of the evidence by burning down the building!”

“With the cashier inside?!”

“…Yeah!”

“You are a very violent person and a bad sidekick.”

“What? I like violence! Plus, my powers are more cooler than yours so who the hell are you callin’ a sidekick?”

“Whatever, let’s just hurry up and get this ATM machine out of here before the police-“

“Why do people say ATM machine?” A voice said.

Spot and Y/N jolt up, looking around in surprise. “Huh? Who said that?” Spot asked.

The duo looked behind them and see Spider-man himself, hanging upside-down from the ceiling, casually eating a beef empanada. “The ‘M’ stands for ‘machines’!“ He finished.

“Spider-Man!” Spot and Y/N said in sync.

The duo felt the floor disappearing beneath their feet as they fell through an accidental portal, only to end up reappearing in the next isle, falling harshly from the ceiling to the floor. Spot and Y/N’s disguises only end up coming off during the fall, revealing their bare, pale, and spotted bodies.

The Spot only had black spots of different sizes covering his pale lanky body, his face being completely blank with only the largest black spot plastered across his face resembling a scribbled eye.

Y/N had multicolored polka dots covering their body, the bright colors contrasting from their light grayish skin. Their face is completely blank as well, with only two mismatched color dot eyes to show their expressions.

They groan in pain as Spot helps them up from the floor, nearly slipping again, but regains balance. They dust themself off as they look forward, seeing Spot jumping around in preparation as Spider-Man walks in front of them.

“Ah! Spider-Man, wow,” The Spot began, before he hit his foot against a box, yelping in pain, “This is real!”

Y/N tilts their head in exasperation at their partner’s action. “Johnathan, what are you-“

“Alright, Y/N, prepare your introduction.” He whispered back.

“My what?” Y/N whisper-shouted.

Spider-Man glances back and forth between the spotted duo, baffled, yet immersed by their bizarre and wacky appearance. “So are you like a cow or a dalmation?” He asked gesturing at Spot. He then glanced at Y/N and gestured at them, “And are you like supposed to be a clown or a painting?”

“I am…The Spot.”

Y/N looks at Spot with a, ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’ face. “I’m sure that sounded a lot cooler in your mind.” They address. Spot just ignored them and stretched his arms out to them in a presenting manner.

“And this is my trusty sidekick…The Dot.”

“I never agreed to…never mind.” Y/N said.

Spot leans against the isles, propping his elbow on it, while placing his hand on his hip. Bread begins to spill out of the holes in his torso.

Y/N looks at him and quickly folds their arms leaning against the other side of the isle, nearly slipping in the process, trying to look cool and intimidating.

“We meet again, Spider-Man.” Spot began, ‘menacingly’.

“And we have a lot to catch up on.” Y/N finished, ‘menacingly’.

Spider-Man just laughs, pointing his empanada at the duo in an amused manner.

[runningfrom2am]

Hiii if it’s okay, can I request a jj x pogue!reader? Where they are in a secret relationship.. but right before a kegger they get into a fight and ignore each other, then a girl starts flirting with jj and he fake flirts back to make the Pogues not suspicious about your relationship but reader gets insecure and thinks jj is honest with his flirting and she gets upset, walks away idk, you can think of the ending haha hope this makes sense 😊

okay YES i love this so much omg.

tysm for sending this to me! i'm honoured that you trusted me with this and i hope it's what you pictured!

requests are open! send me something here.

join my taglist here

proving a point - (j.m)

pairing: jj x pogue!reader

warnings/tags: strong language, alcohol consumption/abuse, established (secret) relationship, that's p much it??

wc: 1.9k

"Christ, JJ! Since when do you give a shit how much I drink? At an actual party?" You yell, dropping your hands from where they were rubbing the sides of your head in frustration.

"Since I had to drag you out of the driver's seat of your shitty car that's hardly drivable in the best of times! Fuck, like, I just don't want you to kill yourself or get arrested if I'm not babysitting you for five fucking seconds! I don't think I'm being crazy, here!" Your boyfriend shouts back, leaving you both staring at each other in his messy and quiet living room.

You scoff, shaking your head and crossing your arms over your chest. "Why's it matter to you so much anyways? Not like we have any points to prove, right? God forbid we show our friends we care about each other- that we love each other. That would just be too much, wouldn't it?"

JJ rolls his eyes, taking off his hat and turning it back the way he always does when he's about to do something risky, in the way that usually makes your heart skip a beat. This time it just makes your anger spike. "You're right. Fuck it. I'll mind my business, you black out and drive into a tree. Hit another car and kill the driver. See if I give a fuck."

"I'm not gonna drive to the boneyard, JJ. You're so fucking dense sometimes- seriously! John B is driving all of us, do you actually think I'm stupid enough to steal the Twinkie?" You retort, gesturing with one arm in the general direction of where John B's house is.

"Sometimes, yeah!" JJ laughs dryly, nodding at you.

"Oh, right. Gotcha." You nod sarcastically. "Is that why we can't tell them? Are you embarrassed because your girlfriend is stupid and gets drunk at parties? Please- I'd love to know."

"That's not why and you know it, Y/N." JJ rolls his eyes, pacing the living room now.

"Whatever you say. I'll see you tonight." You mumble, heading for the door and slamming it behind you.

You trudge your way out to your car and drive off, fighting back the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. He didn't mean that. He couldn't have.

By the time John B arrives with the rest of your friends to pick you up on the way to the boneyard, you've managed to down three drinks to get a good buzz going before you have to see JJ again. Putting on your brave face as you close your front door behind you, you smile as you approach the van, and the back door slides open, revealing Pope and Kie in the back.

"Y/N!" Kie grins, moving over to give you some room.

"Hey, guys!" You smile, closing the door behind you as John B is already peeling out. You steady the drink in your hand, making very brief eye contact with JJ over his shoulder in the passenger seat. His eyes landing on the drink in your hand don't go unnoticed as Kie and Pope continue the conversation you were assuming they were having before you jumped in.

It isn't long after you arrive that there are kids from all over the island at the kegger, sharing drinks and yelling listening to distant music with a big bonfire raging on the sand. You sway a little with your arm placed over Kie's shoulder, both trying to steady yourselves as you talk with some other pogues you don't see very often between everyone's busy work schedules.

"Hey, wait, you guys are close with Maybank, right?" The blonde girl standing in front of you asks, attempting to whisper but the alcohol in all of your systems is preventing it.

"Yeah." You nod, looking around for him, spotting him by the fire.

"Is he single still?" She asks, and you try to suppress a laugh. Luckily, Kie isn't able to stop hers for a completely different reason.

"That hot mess? Of course he is." Kie laughs, reaching out and tapping the girl's shoulder playfully. "You're funny."

You bite your tongue, actively fighting against the glare you want to give her. You disguise it by laughing awkwardly along with Kie.

"Oh my god, how? He's so hot, are you kidding?" She giggles, shaking her head at you guys.

"Well, you don't know him like we do." You say, shrugging a little and hoping she doesn't pick up on the bitterness in your tone. She doesn't even have a shot- you're confident of that much. You and JJ love each other, even if you fight sometimes. You'll make up within the week, just like last time.

"Well, it's worth a shot." She laughs and Kie nods, pointing JJ out to her in the crowd.

The girl asks you to wish her luck as she walks off, adjusting her shirt and pulling it down slightly as she walks over to him. You bite your tongue to keep yourself from grinding your teeth together. "Kie, wanna go watch this trainwreck?" You ask, leaning into her like you're joking and she nods.

"Oh, god, yes." She laughs, and the both of you cling onto each other as you walk your way over, keeping enough distance so the girl JJ is now talking to doesn't catch on that you're listening. They're not alone, there's loads of people around, including John B and Pope who were already at JJ's side, just watching as the girl leans into your boyfriend and he drapes his arm over her shoulder, leaning down to listen closely to what she has to say.

"What are you drinking?" She asks him, tilting her head to look into his cup and then back up at him.

"Just beer." He shrugs. "Why, you want to try it? Might be a little strong for you." He teases her, making you tense up.

"Oh, please." She giggles, grabbing the cup from him and downing it, tossing the cup on the ground.

"Fuck the beaches, I guess." You mutter to Kie, who also looks displeased at her actions. You need Kie to know you're upset- to take your side even if she doesn't really know what's going on.

"That's gross." Kie says, a sour look on her face now.

"Damn, you're a crazy one, aint'cha?" JJ says, squeezing her shoulders before dropping his arm down her back, grabbing her by the waist. With his friends keeping a close eye on him, he doesn't want them to suspect anything. He finds it hard enough as it is to keep his hands off you in front of them in the soberest of times, forget when either of you have been drinking. He's coping by convincing himself it's you under his arm, not this random girl he's only entertaining to prove a point to any prying eyes. Which, unfortunately, happens to be yours.

"I... I've gotta go. Uh.. yeah." You say,  wiggling out from Kie's grasp and stumbling off down the beach, struggling to make distance with your shoes in the thick sand.

Maybe he did mean it when he said that he thinks you're stupid. Maybe he is embarrassed- and maybe this is his immature way of showing you that you're done. That you're not worth it anymore.

"You okay?" Kie calls after you.

"Just have to pee." You make a quick excuse, not looking back to make sure she doesn't see that you're so visibly upset. JJ saw, however.

You make it up to where John B parked the Twinkie, the back packed with sleeping bags and random blankets and pillows in case any of you couldn't bum a ride home with someone else.

You find yourself shaking as the world spins around you and you polish off your cup, collapsing back against the far side of the vehicle and sliding down, curling your knees up to your chest as your body is wracked with your sobs. You can't stop it now. You've lost the boy you knew was the love of your life- who you thought was the love of your life.

You let yourself cry, comfortable enough with your drunkenness and distance from the party that no one can hear you as you crush the plastic cup in your hands, shaking and trying to ground yourself. 

You eventually drop the cup, resigning to burying your face in your hands.

"Baby?" Your head snaps up when you hear a familiar voice, and when you open your eyes JJ is kneeling in front of you, reaching for your wrists to pull your hands away from your face. "Y/N/N, hey, c'mere..." He says, his tone soft and comforting despite what you just saw.

"I saw you, J! I saw that! You can't-" You sniffle, wiping your nose on your sleeve. "You can't come here and act like we're not done."

"What? Baby, no, it's not like that- I just, I didn't want the boys to see me shove her off they'd ask questions. You know me." JJ chuckles a little at the end, trying to cheer you up but failing miserably. "I'm sorry. Hey, look at me. I'm sorry, I took it too far. We're not done, I love you, you know that." He says seriously, locking eyes with you and rubbing your wrists with his thumbs.

You shake your head, laughing slightly. "No- this is my fault, I'm being stupid." You insist. "It's fine, JJ. I get it."

"Shit." He sighs, dropping his head defeatedly. He knows you. He knows how you internalize things and he knew as soon as he said it earlier in the day that he would regret his impulsive answer when he said he thought that sometimes you were stupid. He meant irresponsible; he meant that you don't worry about your own safety as much as he wishes you would, but in the heat of the moment he couldn't articulate that. "You're not being stupid. I was being a dick."

"A little." You admit, laughing softly. You hate fighting, you're tired of it, and you want him to not take your stupid overreactions too seriously. "I am being stupid though."

"No, you're not. You couldn't be as stupid as me if you tried." JJ insists, dropping one of your hands to reach up and brush a tear from your cheek. "I just worry about you and I'm sorry I touched her. To be honest, I'm a little pissed she stole my drink. She's annoying as shit, too."

This makes you giggle, meeting his eyes again. "There's that smile..." He whispers, brushing his thumb over your cheek again.

You lean a little into his hand. It's impossible to stay mad at him, and you know he meant what he said about her. "You know what? Fuck it. Can we tell everyone?" JJ asks suddenly, catching you off guard.

"I- well..." You ponder it. "Do you want to?" You ask.

"This is stupid, isn't it? I want everyone to know we're together. Don't you?"

You nod, smiling softly at him. "It is kind of dumb." You agree.

"Let's skip that awkward conversation and just show everyone instead." JJ nods, satisfied with himself as he lets you go to stand up, holding his hand out to you. "Come on. Let's get you another drink so I can carry you home tonight." He teases, making you laugh as you take his hand and he pulls you up.

"Do you actually think I'm stupid?" You ask with a giggle, walking hand in hand back down to the beach.

"Sometimes, yeah." JJ jokes, making you shove his shoulder with your free hand. "Never any stupider than me, though. That's why we work."

"Stupider isn't a word, I don't think." You laugh, and JJ shrugs in response.

"That's my point proven."

[meowmeowmeowmeow4x]

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Part 9

MASTAPOST

Byleth trembled as the Guard gathered in the barracks later that night. He had been found floating belly up near the top floor after having sounded the alarm.

It wasn’t his fault! T-there was a s-s-SIREN. Right there! In front of him! It looked thin and waspish and starving, and he was sure it was gonna maul him to death right then and there. Did you see the teeth on that thing?! Byleth shuddered. His hand went to cover his gills. Imagine being chomped on the neck by that stuff. The stuff of nightmares.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, he wasn’t the only one terrified. Well, that was a little misleading. Byleth stood at attention in line with his fellow guardspeople, awaiting dismissal. The debrief was long and agonising, hearing details about how the siren lurked around unnoticed for hours, but most of his comrades were just irritated, or even disappointed. He glanced to the right, where Ableth was nursing his wounds from trying to tackle the little demon, and he wasn’t even fazed! Like, holy shit. If the siren got that close to him, he’d probably shit his pants right on the spot!

No, the one who was terrified was apparently the local administrator, currently having a ‘conversation’ (more like a shouting match) with their commanding officer out of sight, but definitely not out of earshot.

“It was a child! A baby! Do you even begin, begin to comprehend how bad this makes you, and by extension, me, look?! King Arthur will have our heads! Our heads!”

Their commander audibly sighed (which was a big yikes, considering how patient the guy was even on a bad day). “I understand your concerns, administrator, but this guard have done the best they can. The siren child was armed with weaponry the likes of which we have never seen before, and the raids have been tireless besides.”

“Blah blah blah blah do you even hear yourself? Maybe if you had trained these grunts better they wouldn’t have been out-matched by a toddler!” Byleth took offence to that. He’d like to see the office suit face up against that monster!

“Only one man was hurt, and he’ll be disciplined for his recklessness. The child did not set out to attack anyone, he was only stealing supplies, and fled when resistance appeared. It’s the same story as ever.”

“It sounds like your guards are as incompetent as ever!”

“The sirens have no way to access such advance weaponry. Do you understand what this means? If we don’t speak up, what will we do when a proper war band appears, each bearing these weapons? How many towns will they have razed before your dead spirit will be ready to admit the consequences of this cowardice?”

The administrator sputtered. The ridiculous loss of composure, and the raucous laughter of Byleth’s friends helped sooth the abject terror of a hundred more sirens appearing out of the ravines. By Poseidon spare them!

Line breakening~~

With the adrenaline running low, Damian ran on fumes as he twisted through the ravine, tracing back his fin-strokes to the cave where he’d left Phantom. Against all odds, he found it, and almost cried in relief. Throwing his newly acquired loot to the floor, Damian let his body drop like a cold iron, and passed out.

Danny felt pain. Like, all over. Everything hurt. Normally he’d be able to heal any injuries he got while siren fighting, and what a blessing that was. He wasn’t sure just how dense his parents could be, but he didn’t want to test it. The aching agony all over his body reminded him just how little he ate that morning, and man was he regretting it. Stupid Skulker and his stupid hunting dog dolphins. His stupid hunting doglphins. And stupid Damian for making him come close.

Well, that was a little harsh. He couldn’t blame the kid for believing the dolphin propaganda. They had a tight grip on the world, man.

The smell of blood prickled his nose. Danny shot up, fully awake. “Damian where ar-”

There the kid was, collapsed against the rocky floor of their makeshift hideout. Beside him, bags and satchels spilled out with food, bandages and weapons?! Guilt rocked up Danny’s body. Did Damian go hunting for food while he was unconscious? The kid’s tiny body was littered in bruises, and raw patches where the scales barely healed over. His sail was bent at an awkward angle too. Where the hell did he go?! Where did he get weapons?

No wait. Danny came closer and sniffed the loot closely. You had to be kidding him. There were Atlanteans nearby?! Part of Danny very much doubted the idea that the Atlanteans, probably the number 2 siren haters in the world aside from his parents, would just hand Damian a gift basket if he asked them to. So he stole from them?

Jazz would call this catasrophising, but she wasn’t around, so Danny felt pretty justified in panicking a little. Like, what was he thinking?! The Atlanteans would’ve skewered him without a second thought.

A small whimper caught his attention. Danny’s mental disaster train screeched to a halt. Damian was shivering, violently. Oh right. It was like, midnight or something in a deep ocean ravine. The kid was probably freezing. And if he wasn’t healing, that meant he was low on nutrients, and even lower on body heat.

Right, needed to care for the kid. Crap. He was planning on staying near the surface for most of the trip. A blanket was big and cumbersome and he didn’t have much storage space on him.

But goddammit if he let the kid freeze to death on his behalf. Resigning himself to a fate of being bitten once Damian woke up, Danny picked up the tiny, fragile guppy, and tucked him underneath his fins. As Danny began to eat his fill, he wondered just what kind of person he was going to be swimming across two oceans with, to be brave enough to go out singularly into the unknown…

Damian awoke to the sound of chewing, and gentle purring. He missed Alfred the cat. Poor kitty. He probably missed Damian too. It’s ok, Damian can make it up to him. He’ll give the little kitty all the pets and grooming he could ask for.

A weight settled on his hair, and- oh… oh that was so good. He didn’t know Alfred could pet him too. Maybe this was one of the good endings to his life, one where he’d spend life as a kitten, without a care in the world. That would be so nice, just being there and safe and warm. The hand stroked and straightened his hair, and it snaked down to where his ears were and scratched them. It was pure heaven. Damian thought that such a place would be forever closed off to him, but maybe the world had decided to be kind…?

“Woah, you’re actually lowkey super adorable like this.” Alfred said. Why did Alfred the cat sound like a pasty-faced teenage boy? He’d always imagined him like the real Alfred: prim, proper, distinguished.

“You sound strange, Alfred.” Damian mumbled. The hand scratched his ear again, and Damian’s purring intensified. “Please return to your proper voice at once.”

“Dude, I have no idea who that is.”

Nonsense. Damian had named his cat after a very distinguished man, and let him know it every time he saw him. How could he not know his own name?

“That is preposterous. You are Alfred the cat, my esteemed pet and loyal member of the family.”

Aflred the cat snorted. He snorted. “Oh my god that is so gold. I’m going to hold this over you literally until you grow old and wrinkly.”

Damian felt… offended. That was so mean! Why would Alfred the cat say such a thing, to him, Damian, his owner and friend! Damian always made sure to treat his pets with the care and respect they deserved, and this is what he got!?

“B-bad kitty. You will be disciplined.”

And Alfred the cat just kept laughing! Alright, the air of relaxation evaporated as Damian started getting annoyed. He opened his eyes, ready to teach his wayward cat some manners when-

The last 24 hours caught up again. Before him was not Alfred the cat, as he had thought, but Phantom completely healthy again, lying on his back, laughing his heart out. Almost literally, too. Damian watched as Phantom’s still beating heart, and water-filled lungs bounced and jiggled inside his chest cavity with each half-choked laugh. It was mesmerizing, and kind of nauseating.

Suddenly Damian couldn’t find it in himself to be angry, just an overwhelming feeling of relief.

“Phantom!” He cried out, voice almost cracking. Phantom tackled him into a hug, and Damian only put up a token resistance. It just felt so… right. “You are… You have recovered from your injuries.”

“It’s Danny, actually.” Phantom, er- Danny, said, voice soft, quiet. Almost vulnerable… “Danny Phantom. Most people just know the Phantom part.”

Danny… Daniel…. “I was foolish. I should not have ignored your warnings. Forgive me, Daniel.”

“Hey now, don’t you start picking up the Fruitloop’s habits. It’s never Daniel. Just Danny. Daniel’s a randomass human name, but Danny’s mine.”

“It does not change the fact that it sounds like a nickname. I… I do not do nicknames.” Damian said. Normally he paraded this fact as a matter of pride. With Richard, Drake, even Kent. Now, with Daniel encompassing his body in warmth, he felt strangely small.

“And I don’t do self-deprecation. So what about a deal? I’ll forgive you, if you promise to call me Danny.” The older boy said, voice leaving no room for argument. And yet, the playful tone underneath it gave Damian something akin to comfort. The way Richard did in the early days, despite Damian’s barbs and open threats.

“Very well, D-Danny.” Damian forced out. The name felt alien on his tongue. “This is a privilege few can boast to.”

Daniel- no, Danny, chuckled again. “You sound like a kid saying a swear for the first time and they’re really scared of being caught.”

“I am not a child.” He was never allowed to be.

“You are crazy though. And reckless. And that’s coming from me!”

Ah, so Danny figured it out. “You noticed the smell of Atlantean.”

“What were you thinking? They hate sirens. With a capital H.”

“I will not apologise for my actions in there. You needed food. It was my own poor judgement that got you injured, so it was my responsibility to rectify that.”

Danny was quiet for a moment. “I’m really trying to channel that ‘angry because I’m worried about you’ energy that my sister does, but you’re making it really difficult. Now I just feel bad.”

“They posed no threat to me. It was an easy operation.” Damian said. Danny sighed again.

“What am I gonna do with you? Outside of taking you home, that is.”

“For one, you could unhand me.” Damian’s words were hollow, even to him.

“And let you freeze to death? No chance. Now come on. The sun’s about to rise, and you need your breakfast.”

“Have you eaten enough yourself?” It would not do to let this foolish teenager hurt himself for Damian’s sake again.

“Dude, I’m like triple your size and age right now. It’s my job to be worrying over you.” Damian harrumphed.

It felt nice to be cared for again.

LINE BREAK BABY

Bruce hung up the phone. Dick was about ready to riot, and the others were on a wire-thin line too. It was one of the most exhausting calls he’d done in his life, but it had to be done. He wasn’t going to leave his family in the dark, not after Jason.

It wasn’t just he who had potentially lost a son, however. In his hours of maddened searching, he’d glossed over the fact that the son of local siren hunters, the Drs Fenton, had also gone missing. Tim was already on the case, sifting through thousands of hours of CCTV footage to analyse the kid’s behaviour of the course of the last six weeks. Two unrelated boys going missing at the same time. And one boy had been displaying suspicious behaviour for months before hand. Something was up.

And so Bruce straightened his tie. He refused to wear any form of black. Not now, not yet, while there was still hope to be clung to. His trip to Fentonworks was in part to share condolences, and in part to investigate. Wherever Damian was, the clues lay somewhere surrounding Daniel Fenton.

He just hoped Damian had to be ok. If this hope died, Bruce felt like he might die with it.

[herzzgeist]

hi, could you write about law where his gf is just a clumsy mess. And she just hit her head on a open drawer, pretty hard. And know she is embaressed to go to him and ask for a ice pack. So she try to steal it unnoticed from his room. But of course she got caught.

And now she just try to played down, but it hurts like hell. He just care for her lil wound and something fluffy down the road. Maybe she remind him of cora. Ahhhh sorry for the spam

Pairing: Law x Clumsy fem!reader | Word count: 1.4k | Warnings: none

Synopsis: Oh look, another bruise. Didn't notice this one, silly me! Law can't stand the way you hold yourself - without care. Everytime he hears a faint 'Shit' or 'Ow' in the distance, he immediately considers it to be you, hurting yourself unintentioally again. What a drag. And yet another day, he finds you in attempt to smuggle something from the infirmary, observing you how you disfigure the drug storage. He actually has to speak up, until you finally realise you're not alone. "Law, it's nothing." - "Nothing can't turn red and blue and starts to swell like that (Y/n)-ya! Now hold still!"

A/N: Anon, I LOVE spam! The more details the better :3 - Here we have a fluffy OneShot! Thank you for your request, I must say I adore the clumsy reader trope ఌ (erm, since I walk on two left feet myself)

Dividers by cafekitsune ~

What a night, you think to yourself, as you stretch and writhe underneath your warm and comfy sheets. The cold hits you like you're being thrown into a pool of ice water, as you lift the shield of comfort, goosebumps prickling along your skin. Yawning in a still jaded state, you crumble off the mattress and of course hit your toe on the cabinet's leg. As you do every morning.

In pain you yowl a distressed little curse, hopping in place. It's straining you beyond belief, praying for some sort of miracle to rid you of those cursed two left feet. If not for the better, you should wear bubble wrapper clothes, this way you won't hurt yourself non stop at least. However, it is, dare say, not the most attractive fashion option.

In addition, you are practically obliged to see the doctor, who you happen to be in a relationship with, verily frequent. Naturally, whenever you arrive at the kitchen or common room within the Polar Tang, it is of your highest priority to avoid Trafalgar's death gaze, before he opts to drag you to the infirmary with those, as you may call them 'little' aches and pains you always put on yourself. Until now, they were ever so often not to be taken lightly and Law patched you up in no time. Shame fills you, embarassed that you're, simply explained, a klutz.

You enjoy it no less, the attention your aloof lover gives you and the petty and sarcastic comments he throws at you. Him being close to you. His warm hands cleaning any cuts and bruises and his voice stern yet reassuring calms you, no doubt. With that in mind, you can't help but notice your heart beating faster to the pictures replaying in your mind. Squeezing your eyes shut, you shake your head wildly, in hopes to quickly forget what's caught up in your day dreams about a certain white hatted man.

Today is your turn in kitchen duty and you decide to prepare breakfast earlier than usual, for you have something special in mind to serve this fine morning. Looking through the storage, no drawer or door is left unopened and you search for the needed ingredients.

As you lean down to seek out the lower cupboards, your skill to dodge the edge of an open drawer abandons you. Close to your temple, you feel how heat shoots up that area, making you dizzy. Fingertips trace along your head, where the imprint has been knocked into. Everything threatens to grow black before you.

„Oh, please no. Not again.", you murmur in desperation, legs beginning to weaken and nausea builds up from your core. That was quite the hit. Sitting down on the cold tile floor, you hide your face in your shaky palms. In panic, you come to the conclusion, that you must reach the infirmary, fast. All without getting caught by your overly attentive boyfriend, seems close to impossible to you. "Ice pack . .", is what you groan and you are set on your destination.

On wobbly legs, you close the door behind you and follow the corridor, down to the infirmary. Paranoia creeps over your spine, eyes scanning every dark and shallow corner. Before you enter the room, you peek over your shoulder to make sure you aren't followed: „Good, coast is clear.", the metal creaks and you step over the doorframe.

In all nervosity you begin to mumble and rummage through the drug storage: "Where is this god damn thing. I remember him putting it-" - "A little to the left, sweetheart." Jumpscared by the deep rumble behind you, you turn in a quick spin and stand in your Captain's shadow. With all your might, you gift him your most hearty and lovable smile, greeting him: "Law?! Why hello my love I-"

Instantly closing the locker doors behind your back, you giggle exaggeratedly, trying to play it cool, avoiding the icy steel glare, coming from the doctor. He orders: „Show me." Almost too quick you retort his command with an overacted pout of your lips, questioning his indication. Closer and closer the heavy steps come your way, stopping before you. Law reaches for your head and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, revealing the unmistaken bump.

An exasperated groan reverbs from his chest and he points at the examination table. "Now.", he commands and without a squeak, you obey. There you are again, seated on the cold metal plate. „Tell me what happend.", he utters, while washing his hands and putting on rubber gloves. There is no way you can escape his room anymore, unironically speaking.

Thus you twirl your thumbs in abashment, explaining: „I hit my head on a drawer in the kitchen about five minutes ago. I swear it's nothing, just a little bruis-" - „(Y/n)-ya, a little bruise doesn't turn red and blue and begins to swell at such an alarming rate. Now hold still." Ever so slowly, he approaches you, his grey orbs fixated on the injury. Inked and slender digits glide through your hair to get a better concept. Involuntarily, a hiss shoots through your teeth, as he palpates your scalp around the bump. Pins and needles trickling over your skin wherever he touches.

„Any dizziness, nausea or general weakness?" - „All three yes . . and think I was on the verge of passing out too.", by hearing your statement, which you formulate such a situation so nonchalanty is beyond Law's comprehesion. Oh how infuriated he is. Not hesitating once, he grabs the cleaning tools, anticeptics and cooling salves to get to work, patching you up again. It's become an everyday life chore for your dear Captain. Though he detests how imprudent and careless you are, he cannot deny how utterly adorable you appear at times, puppy eyes attempting to white wash every scratch on your body, not wanting to disturb him by all means. It is something he learned to love about you.

Yet somehow you remind him of someone. Somebody he used to care about alot when he was just a boy. Could it be? Why of course, Corazon. Well, at least you didn't burst into flames, like he did. Fortunately, you're not prone to smoke, to Law's approval. However, all the other stunts you deliver, are rather similar to Rosinante's, one could think you are related to one another. A smile tugs on the Captain's lips, as he finishes the treatment.

„What are you so happy about, darling?", you hum sweetly, earning a disgruntled click of his tongue, telling you it's nothing. You show your gratitude with a kiss to his cheek. It managed to elict a skip of his heart and he furrows his brows subsequently, hiding the red tint on his face under the brim of his hat.

Seeing him tidy up the infirmary, you make it your task to help him clean up after that little ‚operation'. „You should get some rest. Drink lots of water and take pain killers if needed. And for the love of god, please tell me, if any symptomps get worse, understood?", he growls through a tensed up jaw. You playfully nudge his side and chuckle softly: „I think I learned my lesson today. I'm grateful. Really appreciate your kindness and patience with me."

Kindness? Who on earth would call a powerhouse, a man as known as ‚the Surgeon of Death', kind? Only shaking his head and scoffing to your heartstring pulling remark, he huffs: „You're a curious one, (Y/n)" Side by side, you stand next to eachother, cleaning up the tool station. Through the corner of your eye, you notice his fleeting gaze upon you. Hence you return it, facing him with a querying expression.

An unexpected pinch on your cheek takes you aback, a small ‚Ouch' escaping you: „Oi, what was that for?" Law's thumb and index finger linger on the round of your face, not moving away, muttering lowly: „This is for being a fool, the clumsy mess that you are" removing his fingers from you, he gently places his palm back on the spot where he pinched you a moment ago „and this is for your troubles, my clumsy mess that you are."

Slowly he leans down to your level and lets his lips enlighten yours with the love he harbors for you, his blundering woman.

And as if nothing happend, the throbbing pain in your head disperses into thin air.