#you do not want to know what he did back in summer '99

[alienautism]

{this isnt a ship au or anything,, the relationship stuff in here is based on my original character himself,, not cj mind in those cases !}

{rgrggr i need to talk about my kinda jash related minddd ,, im no writer but i'll try to be at least semi-coherent lolollo}

ok so jekyll/hyde/mind/benny is this long primate ferret dog thing

he doesnt smile as much as i depict him because any strong emotion {or emotion at all} causes him terrible migraines that last days.

he uses all these names because he doesnt like being confined to one thing forever. he often shape shifts and sheds into different patterns and colors.

mirage wanted him to be the perfect little boyfriend complacent in his role of being loving,, submissive and always willing to parrot anything he said.

eventually [and quite quickly],, benny became bored. he was tired of parroting,, he was tired of being a pet and he was tired of mirage.

mirage,, being the overbearing,, emotional control freak he is,, instantly decided that if benny didnt want to be what he wanted,,,, then he didn't deserve even a glimmer of his paradise.

benny,, still stuck in the emotions he learned from mirage,, became just as irrational as he.

{now i would say they fought a big war and all that... if mirage didnt effortlessly and,, ironically,, heartlessly shove a cross into his head and out through his throat,, all while he pleaded for forgiveness}

benny/hyde/jekyll,,, whatever you'd like to call him,, learned that day that the man he thought loved him was a narcissistic, blind, weeping and sorry excuse for an idol...]

{oh god you're not actually feeling bad for him right,,, this isnt a generic "demons arent actually evil,, the angels are" story. no,, mind is a greedy narcissist as well. every life he lives,, every life he invades, he thinks only for himself. he THINKS he can just switch and become someone new whenever he likes but he will always be the cold, ignorant, cynical creature he was born as. i wish you could see it.)

{while that is true,, i can see plenty fine,, but you can't see it yourself.}

benny knows he will never fully recover from mirage just as mirage will never recover from benny.

[what did i do to harm him,, you ask ? ask mirage,, he loves playing victim.]

he scarred himself,, giving him top surgery-like chest scars shaped like something,, familiar. he pretends like he doesnt see the symbolism of the scars,,, the only thing he desperately tries to feel apathy towards.

{on the bright side,, he really likes funnel cake with a lottt of powdered sugar cause its "enjoyable sensory-wise"}

(..brother what.. ?)

[damn leaking my shit like always you queer]

{ok homo}

{also i really like coloring the text srry if its eye breaking but its fun,, also extra art of him n stuff,,,, anyways au revoir,, je dois dormir,,,, idk the fr*nch "language"}

[vodika-vibes]

Congrats for youe milestone!!! This could sould weird but could I ask for sapphire love with crosshair and jedi reader... from the point of view of the happy batch? (Like they love reader and cross and how they saw blossom and grew the relayionship?)

Love Is A Choice

Summary: Omega watches Crosshair fall in love.

Pairing: TBB Crosshair x Jedi F!Reader, though the eyes of Omega and Echo

Word Count: 705

Prompt: Sapphire - Wise Love

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Alright, so I think I understand what you were asking, but following their whole relationship in under 1000 words would have been...impossible. So I hope this is close to what you wanted. Also, with both Omega and the Reader being female, there's a lot of "her" and "she" in this. Sorry.

Omega sits on the stone wall, absently twisting an orange leaf that had fallen from a tree between her fingers, as she watches Crosshair and his girlfriend, the former Jedi General of Clone Force 99.

Omega’s been watching their relationship for a while. From the time it started in the spring, all throughout the summer months, and now, in the autumn, they seem closer than ever.

It’s weird. Their relationship.

The Jedi is amazing. She’s kind and caring and has accepted all of Omega’s brothers into her life as though they’ve always been there, and maybe they have. Hunter did mention that she’s known them for a while, after all. And while Omega loves Crosshair, and she does, she doesn’t understand. He’s so snippy, all of the time. 

And their jedi will just smile at him and continue the conversation as though he hadn’t just been rude to her.

If Omega did that, Hunter would have her head! Assuming that Echo didn’t get there first.

“Credit for your thoughts, Omega?” Echo asks as he hops up onto the stone wall next to her. “You’ve been staring at Cross and the General for a hot minute after all.”

Omega frowns, “I don’t get it.” She finally admits, as she watches the older woman lean into Crosshair’s space, her hands folded behind her back. And Omega’s frown deepens when Crosshair says something and places his hand on her face and pushes her away, only for her to laugh and lean back into his space, “He’s…so mean to her.”

Echo glances at the pair, a small grin playing on his lips, “Is that what you see?”

Omega turns her gaze to her brother, “Is that not what you see?” She demands.

He laughs and drapes his scomp over her shoulder, tugging her into his side, “Watch them, Omega. What do you see?”

She sighs and turns her gaze back to the pair on the other side of the yard. Crosshair’s hands are shoves in his pocket, while she seems to be smoothing his shirt. He says something to her, and she laughs before lightly plucking his toothpick from his mouth.

“Two people having a conversation.” Omega says with a sigh.

“She’s flirting with him, and he’s not only letting her, he’s flirting back.” Echo corrects.

“What? How can you tell?”

“He hasn’t taken his eyes off her face. He keeps pushing his hand through his hair. He let her take his toothpick-” Echo lists, “She’s a bit more obvious. Laughing at his jokes, playing with his clothes-”

“But…they’re already dating.” Omega replies.

“Flirting doesn’t stop just because you’re already dating, Omega.” He sounds amused, “You’ll understand when you’re older. Maybe.”

“I still don’t understand.” Omega grumbles.

“Let me ask you a question,” Echo says lightly, a small smile lifting his lips as he watches Crosshair tug on one of her ringlets, “Is love a feeling or a choice?”

“It’s a feeling,” Omega replies instantly. 

Echo glances at her, “Are you sure?”

“I…well, I was.” She says with a frown, “Is it not a feeling?”

His smile is gentle, “Love is something you feel here,” He lightly taps his heart, “But you choose here.” He taps his temple.

“That makes even less sense.”

He laughs, and tugs on her ponytail, “It will, someday.” Omega scowls and smacks his hand away from her hair, “Just know, Omega,” He continues as he drops his hand, “Crosshair is choosing her. Everyday he wakes up and he chooses to love her. But she is doing the same thing.”

Omega casts her gaze back to the pair, at some point Crosshair has draped his arm around her waist and she’s leaning into him, “So…you think that they’re happy?”

Echo glances at his brother and at the woman who, hopefully, he’ll be able to call sister sooner rather than later, and a smile crosses his lips as she tugs Crosshair out of the yard and towards the street, her free hand gesturing to the trees that have been painted in reds, oranges, and yellows.

“I think that they’ve never been happier.” Echo confirms. 

“Oh.” Omega is quiet for a moment, and then she smiles, “I still don’t get it. But I’m glad that they’re happy.”

[squiddy-god]

jjk cuddles

Previously squid-god-supreme, fic re-uploading currently. This is old and was written pr- everything hitting the fan so it should be spoiler free. Magical universe with no angst or gege AU lol

Geto, gojo, nanami, noya but I make fun of him

Cw: fluff, tooth rotting to hide the pain, misogyny being mocked , probably ooc but I dgaf

Geto

Catch me simping-

Ok so like I feel like he's a great cuddle partner

He's big and warm 🥺 and has strong arms 

Perfect to hold you

Likes to be the big spoon and rest his head in the crook of your neck 

Will sometimes playfully pinch your sides

His cuddles are always very secure and snug

Likes it when you lay on his chest 

Not one for initiating cuddles but won't complain if you do

I just want to hug him,,, like aowbwiebeoee big arms go brrrrr 

I bet he's oddly soft

👉👈 please hold me 

Always looks so content when holding 

you, a relaxed smile on his face 

You didn't want to move, the position was too comfortable to consider getting up. Getos arms were wrapped around you, his long hair tickling your cheek as his head rested in the crook of your neck. It was peaceful, almost dead quiet as you laid there together. It was always nice to cuddle geto in the summer, his body running on the cooler side meaning that it wouldn't become stuffy or suffocating. Letting out a small but mischievous giggle you placed a kiss in his head, just a little peck, and another, and another, until he looked up at you with a smirk. "Oh? And what did I do to deserve all of those" geto asked kissing right below your lips. "Hmmmm I don't know, just felt like it" he humed, going back to his previous position, albeit holding you a bit tighter. 

Nanami 

Tired cuddles

Always holds you close before bed and thats 99% if your cuddles

Doesn't say he wants cuddles but it's pretty obvious he's tired and wants you in his arms 

This isn't a negotiation

Nanami's cuddles are very secure and comfortable, but also very loose

He just drapes his arm over you and boom, optimal cuddle position 

Is fine being the big or little spoon but prefers positions where your both holding each other

Likes lap cuddles, weather that's his head in your lap, your head in his, or you sitting in his lap

Peace and quiet, two things that nanami enjoyed. No Annoying Qtip sorcerer trying to mess with him, just you rested snug against his chest. His hand traced loose circles on your back while you listened to his steady breathing. It was times like this when he felt most content, moon high in the sky and day over, no space between the two of you but neither presence feeling suffocating, and it helped that he was warm. With your arms wrapped around his torso you gave a gentle squeeze just to let him know you were awake. He appreciated it, and all the little things you do. 

Gojo

I have ✨thoughts✨ about this 

First off he smells surprisingly nice, like he smells like sweets and a bakery 

It's a 50/50 chance on whether you get god tier cuddles or are left wheezing in pain on the floor

Because sometimes he will chose violence and start a tickle war, and how can you win 🤡

Little spoon gojo! He kinda koala hugs you and won't let go 

Asks for lots of cuddles but ends up pulling you into them whenever you walk by 

It's always a tangle of limbs with this lanky boy 

Ah yes, another movie night and another bad horror film; however the monster wasn't on the screen but rather the one tangled up with you on the couch. "Let me go- i'm gonna get more popcorn" pretending to ponder it for a moment, his cheek squished against your chest. "Nope! The only snack I need is you~" oh how you wished to wipe that smirk off his face. Trying to wriggle free from his grasp was impossible, "ah ah ah, I wouldn't try that if I were you~" he said in a Threateningly playful tone, his fingers tapping against your sides. You, not looking to catch those hands, relented, eyes going back to the cheap film. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*.・゜゜・｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆-: ✧ :-゜・．

Noya

Who??? 

W h O??? Who would want this man within 50 feet of them? 

Smh 

Probably smells like to much axe body spray because he doesn't want "girly" scents

If you cuddle this man your asking for it lmao because it's horrible

Always crumbs in the bed (hint: he's the crumb in the bed)

I imagine him with like a really smooth voice but he won't stfu 

Seriously never stops talking

Switches cuddle positions every 5 seconds

Refuses to be little spoon 

"Go back to the kitchen"

[fiapartridge]

self control | jack hughes

"take down some summer time / give up, just tonight..."

jack hughes x reader

summary: when your first night swim of the summer is interrupted by the one hughes you can't stand, you wonder if your self control is strong enough to not give in...

warning(s): smoking, swearing, sexual innuendos, grinding?? LMAO

i hate this, but it's also the only imagine i've managed to finish in the past week so here ya go 🤷‍♀️

Summers at the Hughes family’s lake house accounted for 99% of your most favorite memories. You would run around the house with Luke when you were younger, pretending to be pirates or deep-sea monsters, and when you got older, you would bake with Ellen, play cards with Quinn, or even judge the boys’ highlights with Jim. 

But you never hung out with Jack.

He was more reserved than anyone else, and even in the 12 years of knowing him, he never warmed up to you. You didn’t know what you did to deserve this treatment: him switching topics whenever you would enter the room, never sparing a glance at you, saying ‘her’ instead of your actual name– sometimes, he wouldn’t even have the decency to say ‘her’, but instead just nod his head in your direction. At some point in the 12 years, you made peace with the fact that he didn’t like you. If he didn’t want to be friends with you, you didn’t want to be friends with him.

Though Luke would always push you guys to talk — you were his best friend and Jack was his brother. He desperately wanted his favorite people in the world to get along — but it would always end up with Jack or you leaving the room upon seeing each other, or one (or both) of you muttering a snide remark at the other, consequently making both of you leave the room at the same time. 

Everyone just had to accept it: you and Jack are never going to be friends, like ever. 

As if he knew you were thinking about him, Jack emerged from the back door of the patio as you bobbed your head out of the water, only 10 minutes into your first night swim of the summer. You were confused, to say the least. Everyone knew you swam at night— Jack knew you swam at night, so why was he here, sitting down at the edge of the pool, his legs dangling in the clear blue water as he watched you swim laps around the pool.

You felt his eyes on you. You were wondering if they were judging you, or simply watching, observing. Maybe he was finding another thing to insult you with, or maybe he was trying to come up with ways to fix your form, to make him feel better than you, which was something you felt like he did often. 

Tired of his stares, you turned around, treading water as you met his gaze, silently acknowledging his presence. You thought he was going to say something, make fun of you maybe, but he said nothing. He simply reached beside him, pulled out a cigarette from a pack of 24, lit it, and blew smoke.

You scoffed, losing eye contact with him. “What are you doing?”

He took a drag before holding it in between his index and middle finger. Inspecting the dart, he said, “What do you think I’m doing?”

You shook your head. “Ruining my night.”

“You talked to me first, princess.”

Princess. God, that made your blood boil. He was so entitled, you wondered if he actually called girls that. Did they eat it up? Did they hold onto his hand, and follow him to his bed? Did they get butterflies from that belittling line? 

You held pity for them, you really did. They didn’t know him enough to know any better— not like you did. You knew Jack brought girls home every night, sometimes even two if it was after a really good win. The summer, though, he claimed he didn’t have time for girls; that he was too busy spending time with his friends and family to have a one-nighter with a girl whose name he won’t even remember by the time the sun comes up. But everyone knew what it was— what it really was.

Jack was in love with you, and you had no clue. It’s funny how you can call people oblivious to love when you can’t even see it yourself. 

But everyone else knew. Hell, they knew for the past 12 years. They could see it in the way you two talked to each other, or the lack thereof. When you two talked to each other, it was like the sparks before starting up a campfire, but it was when you two didn’t talk, when you would just look at each other across the room, that brought the entire world to flames. Because there could be a million people in front of you, but you’re only looking at one pair of green eyes. 

That was the magic of it all. You could hate each other all you wanted, but who’s eyes are you meeting at the end of the day?

Scoffing, you said, “You’re so fucking irritating, you know that?”

“Could say the same thing about you.” He sounded disinterested, and that made you want to scream. 

You shook your head. “Fucking unbelievable,” you muttered. “You know, I don’t even know why you hate me,” you said, raising your voice. “What did I ever do to you?”

He didn’t say anything. He just took another drag, ignoring you. 

Pissed off, you kicked off the wall and swam towards him by the edge of the pool.

You were close to him— so close.

You took the cigarette from his fingers, holding it centimeters away from his lips. The blue glow from the lights installed to the floor of the pool illuminated the scene and you wondered if it was just you feeling all weird and tingly, like you didn’t entirely hate this. 

You whispered faintly. “Smoking’s bad for you.”

Your eyes flickered between his eyes and his lips, your chest moved up and down, and he could see you bite down the corner of your bottom lip. Jack couldn’t help himself. 

He was weak for you.

Grabbing the dart from your hands and throwing it behind him, Jack slid into the pool, grabbed your hips, pulled you closer to him, and brushed his lips over yours. “Tell me to stop, and I will,” he murmured.

You shut your eyes, breathing in the situation. You were scared. Sure, it was a simple kiss, but all of those girls that he’s brought home before? Were you just gonna be another tally on his board? But then you remember: this is Jack. This is the same boy you watched pee his pants from laughter when he was 10, the same boy you saw holding his mom’s hand merely two days ago. This was Jack you were talking about. Sure, you weren’t great friends. You weren’t even friends. But you knew him. You knew he cared about you because Luke cared about you. Because his mom, and his dad, and his older brother cared about you. To him, you were everything.

To him, you were 12 years in the making.

“Don’t stop.” 

You pressed your lips against his and he immediately kissed back. Open-mouthed kisses, hand-holding-the back-of-your-head kisses, pulling-your- hips-closer-as-if-that-was-even-possible kisses. You were engulfed in Jack Hughes, and you weren’t so sure if that was a bad thing, or not. 

He migrated two steps to the left, sitting down on the steps leading down to the pool, grabbing your hips and sitting you down on his lap. This moment was something straight out of a movie scene, like you were waiting for someone to yell “cut!”, or to tap you on the shoulder and tell you that this wasn’t real. 

But when you felt his tongue break the barrier, the slight whispers of your name, and his hand moving up and down the small of your back, you knew this was real. You were kissing Jack Hughes, and you really liked it. 

But then you remembered: you were kissing Jack Hughes. You never made things easy for him, and you weren’t starting now.

“Is that all you got?” you murmured breathlessly. 

He smirked. “I’m not even sweating yet.” 

When Jack connected his lips with yours once again, he rolled your hips against his, creating friction between the two of you, and oh, it felt good. 

“Don’t think,” God, this felt amazing. “This means I like you,” you breathed against his lips.

It meant exactly that, actually.

He laughed before pulling away from your lips. He bent his head down and pressed his lips against your neck. Your head lulled back slightly because, fuck, he’s good at this. Between kisses he said, “I won’t stop until you admit it.”

“We’ll be here forever then.”

“I’m okay with that,” he smirked before diving back into your neck, sucking and nipping at the exposed skin, not even caring that this was definitely going to leave marks. 

It only took seconds later before you were admitting to Jack that you liked him. Jack stayed true to his words and stopped. Well, he stopped kissing your neck. But when his hands trailed down to the ties behind your back, pulling the strings to completely discard your bikini top, which was now floating over the water a few feet away from you, you both knew you weren’t stopping any time soon.

And you were more than okay with that.

[lifblogs]

Blind Side

Week 4

@summer-of-bad-batch

Alt prompt: “You really think you’re going without me? Not going to happen.”

Rating: General Audiences (I hope)

Word Count: 989

Summary: Wrecker is on his first mission since one of his own bombs went off near his head. Crosshair is insistent he doesn’t go alone.

READ ON AO3

“You really think you’re going without me? Not going to happen.”

Wrecker looked up, relieved that Crosshair hadn’t approached from his blind side. The left side of his face was still a mess of bandages, swelling, and bruising. Beneath those bandages lay his new eye, but it was still too close to that particular surgery for the bandages to come off.

Strictly speaking he wasn’t supposed to have been cleared for active duty just yet, but Clone Force 99 had been called in for an assassination job.

Wrecker had just been checking his gear, getting ready to leave for his part. For now it was just him and Crosshair in the Marauder. The others were outside, checking their weapons, going over maps and plans. Hunter had worked with Wrecker separately with his own map, his patience never once wearing thin despite Wrecker’s troubles.

“‘Course I’m going on my own,” he said. “Last I checked you don’t know much about explosives.”

Crosshair chewed on his toothpick. “Hmm.”

Truthfully, Wrecker was anxious. Sure the job was easy. Go in at night, and place explosives. There was nothing to it!

But his head and face ached, his injuries itching under the bandages. And the bomb—

Wrecker squeezed his eyes shut, a flash of light and searing, ruining pain taking over. That had been happening a lot lately—the flashbacks.

There was something else wrong with him too, with his head. He could almost understand, recognized that his thinking was different from what it had been, observed as the others tip-toed around him.

Sometimes he expected to look down and see a child’s body. The incongruence was jarring.

Yet he could still do his job. On his own.

“It’s just a simple mission,” he told Crosshair before frowning, counting his supplies under his breath.

Wrecker lost count and had to start again.

Why couldn’t his head work?

He knew why—having a bomb detonate near your face did a lot of damage—but he should be better than this, shouldn’t he? Wasn’t he before? Half-remembered moments seemed to tell him so.

Crosshair drew closer.

“Do you want me to count them?” he offered.

“No, no. I’ve got it.”

Crosshair gripped his rifle a bit tighter.

“What’s with you anyway?” Wrecker asked.

Crosshair sighed. “I just… don’t want to see you get hurt again,” he admitted.

Wrecker looked at him closely, noticing his rigid stance and the way his fingers were fidgeting, tapping his rifle.

Crosshair had been the one to call in help for Wrecker during that last mission. He’d had to be told this, seeing as his injuries had knocked him out almost immediately. For a moment he was in Crosshair’s place: up high, far away, seeing the bomb go off but unable to give him immediate aid himself.

He imagined that would be pretty scary.

Yet…

“I can do things on my own. I’m not… I’m not a child.”

And yet he felt like one. Not because of the way he was being treated, but because of something different in his head. He’d wake up expecting to be in cadet clothes, expecting to have to get ready for training.

Wrecker didn’t have the words to quite explain it all. Maybe he had possessed them once, but they often got jumbled, confused, and forgotten.

“I know you’re not.”

“Then leave me be,” he growled, heat flushing his face, burning through his wounds.

That was another new thing—the hot irritability, the impatience.

Crosshair shrugged, and went around Wrecker to leave, disappearing through his blind side.

Wrecker turned, holding out a hand, hoping he was still there. He was.

“Wait.”

Crosshair paused.

“You can be my lookout,” Wrecker told him.

“Good. I’ll inform Hunter.”

After he left, Wrecker went back to painstakingly counting his supplies.

By the time he was finished, and looking over the holomap again, Crosshair was back on board.

“You ready?”

Wrecker’s fingers clenched around the strap of his bag, fear stealing his control. His legs felt too light, suddenly, yet he somehow remained standing.

His wounds itched and ached.

Roaring filled his ears, light filled his vision.

Wrecker tried to control his shaking.

He tried to speak, but found his voice was stuck inside him, his throat constricting.

Crosshair didn’t push him, but Wrecker could feel him eyeing his shaking form, taking everything in.

Wrecker cleared his throat, and put the map away. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

He just had to face his fear and everything would be fine. He couldn’t very well call himself a demolitions expert if he never touched a bomb again.

Wrecker shouldered his bag, tensing as it swung against him, injured brain using up most of his faculties to imagine each and every single bomb in his arsenal, imagining them detonating.

But then he looked at Crosshair. Crosshair had his back.

Wrecker left the Marauder, stepping out into a cold world and crisp air, the sun setting in a blaze of red. Tan rock and gravel ground beneath his boots.

He waved bye to the others, telling himself he’d see them again, and then he started his climb down to the stone city. Crosshair would take up a position on the northern watchtower, but for now, he was by Wrecker’s side. His silence didn’t bother him. His presence was enough to say that he loved him.

For some reason in Wrecker’s emotionally confused brain, that was enough to have tears trail down his right cheek; the tears from his left eye were surely soaked up by the bandages. That wasn’t good.

Wrecker sniffled, and wiped at his face. Crosshair thankfully pretended to ignore him. Oh, his brother. Where would he be without him?

Dead.

And Wrecker was very much alive.

I can do this. I know I can. Crosshair won’t let anything happen to me.

Still, Wrecker flinched as his supplies smacked against him as he started to climb down. Still, he climbed down anyway.

[waywardsou2]

Summer of Bad Batch 2024

Week 3

Prompt: "It's just a scratch"

A/N: Not me writing this literally 24 hours before the next prompts come out haha. Ngl tho it's kinda of topic but i just wanted to do some retired Pabu writing and this prompt kinda subtly fit it, I was planning on making it more angsty but it ended up being nice and fluffy. Anyways I hope you enjoy. This will be on my ao3 as well. Tags: none, fluff, slight injury

The afternoon sun shone down on the rocks that Omega and Echo were standing on. Despite Hemlock being gone and Tantiss destroyed Echo wasn’t done training Omega.

Since his cadet days he had done his best to work by the book and train for as long and as hard as he could. Spending time with Clone Force 99 has taught him to loosen up just a little bit, but old habits die hard.

He knows Omega isn’t a soldier and her biggest threat was sitting at the bottom a valley but she needed to know how to keep herself safe in a galaxy so vast, because he knew that eventually one day she would leave Pabu. It was a given but in the meantime all he could do was prepare her.

Right now with the sun beginning to sink lower in the sky but Echo was trying to get as much training done with Omega as he could.

“You need to keep your guard up; one wrong move and you are open and vulnerable. And then you get hurt, or worse” He took another light swing at Omega, and she brought her arm up to block his punch. She did so successfully.

“Where are your weakest points?” he says testing her as he makes another swing.

“My throat, ribs and knees. I can’t leave those open or in range”

“Good. What points do you aim for?”

“The sides of the head and eyes, neck and legs. Attacking the head can disorient, damaging the eyes can be dangerous, neck can be fatal, and legs can subdue them”

“Yes perfect. And what if they are carrying a weapon” he swings again

“Focus on disarming them then either fight or run”

“Excellent” he says before taking one final swing at Omega

Her progress has been promising; she has been able to keep up with him during exercise. She can shoot her practice targets with accuracy that even Crosshair has praised her for. Her ability to complete the terrain courses he sets up have been slower than the rest of her progress, but he knows at the very least she’ll survive.

“The suns going down but I want to try one last thing. You think you’re up for it?”

Omega is breathing hard, but she is ready. She’s going to prove to Echo that she is just as capable as the rest of her brother or any of the regs. Tech has given her the knowledge, Wrecker had taught her demolitions, Hunter had taught her how to track and scout and survive on next to nothing, and Crosshair had taught her the ins and outs of every weapon imaginable, but Echo taught her how to adapt. How to defend herself and defeat enemies of all kinds. If she was able to keep up with and stand up to him then she would be ready for anything the galaxy will throw at her.

“I’ve got the boys to organise their own obstacles for you to complete all over Pabu. Consider this your final test of sorts. At the end of the route, you will have to defend yourself against a surprise attacker – me. If you can best me then I’ve taught you all I can. You think you’re ready Havoc 5?”

Omega takes a deep breath in then smirks at Echo “I’m ready!”

He smiles back at her, looking at her now he takes a moment to notice how much she’s grown. He remembers when they first met her, how small she was, how often they had to get her out of trouble. But now she’s taller, stronger. Her shoulders have widened and her training has helped her build up a stronger frame. Her hair had grown out which Hunter had helped her keep in a tight braid. His years of having to deal with longer hair started to become useful again since she grew it out. They were luck because the rest of the batch would have been useless when it came to hair.

So, Echo set her off on the path and made his way to the final location waiting for her to arrive. He set himself up in the shadows by the entrance to the cave and waited for her to arrive.

Omegas first challenge was set up by Crosshair, she had to complete a small parkour course whilst avoiding stun blasts from him as well as hitting her own targets. Crosshair almost got her, but she ducked just in time and shot her last target. Trying to hide his pride in Omega, he directs her to her next step of her test.

She made her way around the beach of Pabu and came to where Wrecker had set up several types of explosives along the beach. Some hidden and some in plain sight. Omega counted at least eight visible to her. As soon as she got to Wrecker, he clicked the detonator and told her she had 30 seconds to defuse them all. So she got to work moving swiftly one by one to each bomb disarming them, she thought she had tripped one of the last ones but she was able to reroute the circuit and cancel the detonation command. With only three seconds left, thanks you Wrecker’s rather loud counting, she completed her task. Wrecker roared with approval and sent her to her next task with a pat on the back that almost sent her into the sand.

She next found Tech sitting down a side street along the main town centre. His test was a quick-thinking verbal response test. He thew facts and questions at her with lightning speed as she answered just as quickly, she stumbled over her words once or twice but was able to pick herself back and up and continue to recount the information Tech has taught her over her years with them on the Marauder and even on Pabu, giving her exercises and tests to make sure her information was up to date. Once he was happy with the questions, she had answered he told her she had to go to the small forest at the back of the island. She guessed Hunter was waiting there for her.

When she got there she was a little confused at first as Hunter was no where to be found but when she stepped onto a small piece of paper with the word “Come find me” written on them she knew what her next test would be. She took in her surroundings and made note of every clue to where Hunter was hiding. An indent in the dirt which was a boot track that had attempted to be covered. Disrupted leaves moved in the direction opposite to the wind. Any whisper of movement or a breath taken in too sharply. Eventually she found Hunter hiding up between two trees, his back pressed to one and his feet to the other.

“Found you” Omega says, and Hunter lets himself fall to the ground gracefully

“Good job kid, you beat your record time,-” He ruffled her hair “-go on Echo’s waiting for you at the cave”

“Roger that!” She said and sprinted back to the other side of the island.

Hunter smiled after her, watching her run away. She had gotten fast, really fast. Her comfortability with the lay of the land made her lightning quick. As he watcher her go the pride in his heart swelled. Omega had come so far, and he was proud of every single thing she was doing to improve. It reminded him of seeing his brother progress when they were cadets. Watching them move up from Cadets to “Shinnies” and then to Troopers that were being dispatched every free moment they got. He remembers how Shaak Ti looked at them when they “graduated” she praised them for their effort and progress. It’s one of those memories that stuck with him, and he hoped with his brothers too.

As Omega made her way back to the cave her heart began to race inside her chest. She was ready, she knew that. She had completed all of her tests and done all of her training along the way, but she knew that she had to complete this final test for her brothers to fully see her as capable and as trained as them. For them to recognise her as a soldier the same as them. She knew that didn’t want her to be a soldier that they wanted her to a kid, but she was a clone like them, and she wanted to prove to them that she was no different.

As she stepped into the entrance of the cave she slowed from her run to a hesitant walk, making a slow rotation as she walked further into the cave. She had to wait for Echo to appear, she was listening, preparing herself for the first attack.

And then it came, out from the shadows high up in the walls Echo leaped at her taking a sweeping dive for her legs. She jumped and turned around to face him, bringing her arms up in a guard position. He makes another swift attack for her, and she ducks.

“You can’t stay on the defence forever” he calls to her and her brow furrows

She knows this is her final test, but she worries that she might hurt Echo is she uses all her training. But then again, that is what he wants.

Echo keeps up his barrage of attacks aiming for her head and her arms, leaping around to attack her sides and her back. He makes swiping kicks for her legs, but she is able to keep him at bay. But he keeps encroaching, quickening the pace of his attacks and forcing her to move quicker each time, keeping her thinking on her feet.

She knows the test won’t be over until she manages to knock Echo down but she just can’t bring herself to attack him.

Faster and faster his attack comes, and Omega can feel her arms bruising up slowly, she’s starting to get agitated. She’s never going to complete this test if she doesn’t act now.

So she does, she ducks and hides in Echo’s blind spot kicking in the back of his knees. He buckles and turns on his knee bringing his arm up to block an attempted strike to his shoulder. But Omega is fast, and she takes his arm and pulls it backwards causing Echo to be put off balance and pulled onto his back. She attempts to get on top of him to pin him, but he presses a boot to her chest and pushes her off. He stands up again and she recovers from his attack, he leaps for her as soon as he is on his feet again. But this time she is ready; she grabs his arm as he makes a grab for her and twists her body so his arm is pulled away from her and his chest. Continuing her spin, she pulls him further and with all of her strength she tugs sending him stumbling forward and falling into the dirt. Before he can even stand up again, she has crawled on top of him and subdued him.

She won.

“Good job kid” he said as she crawled off him and offered him her hand and helped him to his feet once more.

When she grabbed onto his hand, she felt dirt and something wet on his hand. When she took her hand away there was a light smear of blood on her hand, looking worriedly at her own hand she grabbed at Echo’s and saw a gash across his palm and gazing on his fingers.

“Oh Echo, your hurt”

“Nah, its just a scratch, I survived getting blown up remember? I’ll be alright kid” she doesn’t let go of his hand and carefully begins to wipe away and pick the larger chunks of dirt from his hand

“You should be proud of yourself kid. You’re officially a Clone Trooper now” He stops her from clearing the debris from his hand and pulls her into a hug instead.

Omega wraps her arms around him and squeezes his middle, she is tall enough now to be able to hide her face in the crook of his neck.

Behind them they heard loud yell and Wreckers voice saying, “Way to go Omega!”

Omega lets go of Echo and the two of them walk over to the rest of the squad, they head back to their home in lower Pabu praising her as they go.

Today has been a good day.

[hischierdevils]

99 and 102 with Jack Hughes pretty please?

99 “i don’t know what to do” “then let me teach you” & 102 “don’t cover you’re face, i want to see you”

This situation you currently found yourself in started out innocently enough. You were staying at the Hughes’ house in Michigan for the summer and on this particular night you were all seated around a campfire.

Trevor, Jack, and Cole we’re in a heated debate about something but you were in a separate conversation with Quinn so you weren’t really listening to them.

Then Zegras decided to put you on the spot. “Hey, y/n, do girls actually get off from head? Or are they faking it?”

All of the boys eyes turn to you and you feel a blush rise to your cheeks. The alcohol you had consumed loosened your tongue enough for your words to come spilling out, “I don’t know. I’ve never received head.”

You’re immediately horrified at your confession as the boys eyes get even wider. “Wait, you’re a virgin?” Alex questions.

“N-no. I’ve had sex but a guy has never gone down on me.” You say, knowing they won’t stop pestering you until you answer.

“Did you not want them to?” Jack’s expression is unreadable as he stares into your eyes. The heat that spreads through your body has nothing to do with the fire as you fidget under his gaze.

“I wouldn’t have said no but they never offered.” You shrug before bringing your can up to your lips and finishing off your drink.

“You gotta find better guys, y/n.” Cole laughs before moving on to a different subject with Trevor. The rest of the guys sort of nod in agreement and move on but Jack seems to be glaring at Cole.

None of the guys bring it up again but throughout the night you can feel Jack watching you as you chat with his brothers.

You’re the first one to leave the circle, standing up and saying good night to the boys. You don’t notice that someone follows you in until you’re almost to your room.

“Going to bed too?” You ask Jack as you turn to face him.

He runs a hand through his hair and gives you a lopsided smile. “I was uh, hoping we could talk?”

“Talk?” You echo. Jack has never been one to beat around the bush with something. When he wants something, he’s vocal about it.

“Yeah, can I come in?” He points to the guest bedroom door and you nod before opening it, letting you both inside.

He starts pacing around the room as you shut the door which starts to make you nervous. “What’s up, J?”

“So I-uh, fuck.” He runs a hand through his hair again before coming to a stop in front of you. “I want to eat you out. I want to make you cum.”

Your mouth falls open, not quite sure how to respond. Is he serious? Is this a prank the boys made up?

“Please, y/n. I want to show you how you deserve to be treated.” Jack takes your hands in his and tugs you toward him but you’re still too stunned to speak.

“Is this a joke?” You finally manage to croak out.

Jack laughs and tilts his head so your noses are touching. “God, no. I’ve had a crush on you forever. Please let me be the one to show you how amazing you are.”

Your mind is reeling as you try to think back to every interaction you’ve had with Jack this summer. Was he giving you hints this entire time?

“I don’t know what to do,” you admit.

“Then let me teach you.” Jack captures your lips with his, lighting every nerve ending in your body on fire as his hands find your waist.

You squeeze your legs together as something starts to coil in your core. Jack walks you both toward the bed without breaking the kiss, stopping when the back of your thighs meet the mattress.

“Is this okay?” He asks as he moves his hands to the button on your jeans.

“Yes,” you breathe. He smiles and kisses you again as he slowly unbuttons your jeans and pulls them down your thighs. You step out of them as his lips trail across your jaw line and then down your neck.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me, baby.” He murmurs as he runs his fingers over your wet panties. His touch sends a jolt of pleasure through you and your arch into him, craving more contact.

“Lay down, pretty girl.” He instructs after you’ve taken your top off. You do as he says, laying on your back as he pulls your panties off of you before spreading your thighs apart.

“Jack, please.” You beg as he stands above you, palming himself over his sweatpants.

“Please what?” He smirks as he runs a finger over your folds before moving to your clit. You twitch in surprise and throw your arm over your face to keep from moaning.

“Please make me feel good.” You murmur into your arm.

Jack touches your wrist, moving your arm away from your face. “Don’t cover you’re face, i want to see you.”

You let out a noise halfway between a moan and a huff as he starts rubbing your clit, maintaining contact with you.

“Jack-“

He leans over you and kisses you again before trailing kisses down your body ending with his face between your legs.

Your hands move to his hair, gently tugging on the roots as he replaces his finger on your clit with his tongue. The noises he’s getting from you only encourage him more.

When he inserts his finger into you, you’re so surprised that you clamp your thighs around his head wanting to keep him there as the pressure in your core starts to build.

He puts another finger in you, hitting just the right spot and your back arches off of the bed.

“Jack I’m gonna-“

“Go ahead, baby. I’m going for a hatty tonight.”

[whiskey-bumblebee]

Uptown Girl (part two)

Pairing: dbf!Aaron Hotchner/Reader

Accessibility/Diversity notes: 99% gender neutral, but one use of 'she' for reader. Reader can swim.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Implied (public) sex, smut, dbf!hotch (reader is an adult).

A/N: The daybed I'm imagining is like this

Tagging: @ssamorganhotchner @hausofwhores <3

"Slow down," You breathe.

"Sorry, sorry," Hotch replies.

When he pulls away from you, his lips are puffy, his hair is mussed, and the collar of his polo is completely off-centre. You smile and run your fingers through his hair affectionately, smoothing it flat again.

"Pretty boy," You murmur, and he blushes under your attention.

"Do you want to swim?"

You eye the pool behind Aaron's head. It looks inviting, the blue almost as nice as the Caribbean. Almost. The pool floatie also looks inviting, and that's when you realize that you're looking for an excuse.

Aaron shuffles slightly up the daybed, until his hips are between your legs, rather than his face. You run your fingertips over his bare shoulders, taking in each freckle atop his skin. Thanks to the warm weather, and your afternoon in the sun, his skin was warm, and seemed to be taking on a bit of colour.

"If I'm doing a bad job, you can tell me," He kisses your neck affectionately, trailing kisses over your chest.

You laugh. "No, not at all. I just wanted to talk."

The gauzy white curtains flap in the breeze, sending cool air over your bodies.

He rolls off your body and relaxes on the sheets beside you. You bite your lip as your eyes rake over his body. He's shirtless, a sheen of sweat over his skin, and his jeans are hanging low on his hips. It's with a pang of guilt that you notice his prominent erection. He notices you noticing him, and reaches for one of the many throw pillows on the bed.

You laugh as he moves the pillow in front of his hips, obscuring your view.

"Damn, you're tempting," You sigh. "And you're good. I just don't know if I can come in public."

You gesture around your pool area, which is, of course, empty. Having sex in the open air is erotic, yes, but it's also cast a shadow of self-consciousness over you. Your neighbours are miles away, but you never know who might be testing a new drone, or whether one particularly loud moan might carry through the summer air to some unwitting person's ears.

"What did you want to talk about?"

You bite your lip again, nudging at the throw cushion which he's still holding in place. Hotch laughs, but holds firm.

"C'mon, talk to me. I promise I'll make love to you later." There's a boyish grin on his face, but that doesn't stop your stomach from dropping at his words.

Practiced as ever, you plaster on the wild child smile. You slip away from Aaron and dive into the pool. Aaron chases you, which you know without even having to look. Sure enough, once you surface, you see the ripples from his splash radiating to the edges of the pool, and you watch as his body glides towards you, under the water.

He runs his hands up your calves, then your thighs, settling on your hips as he swims to the surface. He doesn't even have to ask; as soon as his head pops out of the water, you brush his hair back so he can see.

He smiles at the gesture as he opens his eyes, keeping his hands firmly on your hips.

"You're avoiding me."

"You've been giving me head for the last ten minutes," You hold your grin in place, but it's starting to falter. "We have different definitions of avoidance."

He says your name slowly, and your grin finally fades. Your mouth falls into a frown, and his expression quickly matches yours.

"Hey," He says, rubbing his thumbs in circles.

"I don't think I can look at you and say the things I need to say," You breathe, dropping your hands over his.

He nods, and swims over to the stairs in the shallow end. He takes a seat roughly in the middle, so that his chest is above the water, but the rest of his body is submerged. Propping his elbow on the edge, he rests the side of his head against his hand.

You slip onto a floatie, lying on your back and pulling your sunglasses over your face so you can look at the sky comfortably. The sun immediately undoes the cooling effect of the water.

"I'm listening," He says, and you're not sure whether you're hearing his dad voice or his profiler voice. It seems too gentle to be interrogative, but there's an edge of seriousness.

"So, you came over," You start, unsure exactly how to phrase your thoughts.

"I did," He replies.

"And I'm really glad, and I'd like you to stay, as long as you can. And I really," You can't help but laugh. "I really would like you to make love to me, if this doesn't completely kill the vibe."

You take a deep breath, dropping one of your hands into the water so you can run your fingers through it.

"But it's only because I made up an excuse."

"It isn't," He interjects. "I'm here because I was desperate to see you. You know that. I missed you while you were in New York."

You sigh.

"I want you... I want you to be here because you want to be here. Not because I called and you came."

He says your name again, dragging out the last syllable.

"Aaron," You reply before he can interrupt again, and you take another deep breath, steadying yourself. "I want you to be here because… Because you love me."

The silence is so long, so excruciating, that you slip back into the water so you can stare at him and read his expression. You've drifted to the deep end of the pool without realizing, and you swim over to the nearest edge so you don't have to tread water. It's completely unintentional, but all of a sudden, the pool's entire length is between you and Aaron.

You stare at him. He's staring off to his right, his fingers threaded through his hair. It's still silent, and even the sound of the water lapping at the pool's walls has ceased. You resolve not to say anything until he does. You've played your cards. If he doesn't like them, he can fold.

He looks over at you, and the expression on his face is something you don't know how to read. It's not one you've ever seen before, and for a second you're angry at yourself, knowing that your poker face is thin. Anyone could read you: desperate for his affection, on the verge of tears, like a dog waiting at the front door after a long day. And because it's Aaron, you might as well have hired a skywriter to spell out the words above you both: I love you. I love you, I love you. Please love me back. I don't know what I'll do if you don't love me back.

For a few more painful, long, minutes, he just stares at you. You hold his gaze and map his features, trying to make sense of them. His lips are pressed together, although not so tightly that it's his tell for repressing a spiteful comment. His jaw is fixed, but all of the times you've seen him in profiler mode, it has been. The typically hard line of his brow is soft. His eyes are marginally wider than usual. His head is normally inclined slightly forward, a result of sitting hunched over a desk for so long, but also, you know, a way of making his features appear sharper, harsher. When he tips his head forward and makes eye contact from under his brows, anyone will confess anything to him. He's never used that look with you, and this is no exception. You note that his head is in a neutral position, even tipped slightly back.

You don't need to be a profiler to know that it's a vulnerable expression for him. He's outside of his shielded norm, and the head tilt, with its many meanings, also has the practical effect of baring his throat to you. Okay, you think. There's a vulnerability here, but I knew that already.

"Come here," He says, finally.

The silence has been so long that you almost think you're imagining his words, which isn't helped by the fact that he said them quietly. But he's looking at you expectantly, so you paddle slowly over. You leave a slight distance between you, but it's shallow enough that you can comfortably stand.

"Is that what this is about? You need me to tell you that I love you?"

You nod, uncomfortable at the way he's phrased it, but you know that it's true nonetheless.

"What's your expression?" You ask. Even if this goes terribly, you want to memorize it. If this is the last way you'll ever see his face, you want to file it away forever.

Your question prompts a change; he looks surprised. At least you can recognize that one.

"My expression?"

You nod gingerly.

He stands up and walks towards you, closing the distance.

"This is what it looks like when a man is watching the love of his life beg for something she's always had."

It takes a minute for his words to sink in, but as soon as you've processed them, you smile so widely that an ache sets in. Hot tears spill over your cheeks, liquid relief overflowing.

He wraps his arms around you, and you rest your face against his shoulder, your nose turned into his neck.

You can't help it, and you laugh even as you're crying.

Aaron strokes your back, holding you close as your emotions work their way out of your system.

As you calm down, he starts to sway the two of you side-to-side. You rest your right hand against his chest, and he keeps his arms wrapped around you.

There's nothing you can say that will rival what he's just said, so you're happy to stand in silence.

He takes your chin in his hand and guides your face towards his. It's like you're kissing him for the first time, and for a moment, you just stay an inch apart, watching him look at your lips. You share breath like it's the most natural thing in the world. You close your eyes and feel his lips against yours: slow, soft, reserved. It's a kiss with no ulterior motive than to be shared, passed back and forth between you like a cigarette.

When you finish, Aaron's hand is cupping the side of your neck, his thumb resting on your cheek.

"I'm getting cold," You murmur.

He nods, and presses his lips to yours for one last, short kiss.

He leaves you standing in the pool, watching as he walks over to the daybed, retrieving your towels, long-abandoned. He nods for you to get out of the pool, and you practically float up the steps.

It's with all the tenderness in the world that he wraps a towel around your shoulders, and your hand brushes his as you take hold of the corners, keeping it in place.

He takes your free hand in his, kissing your knuckles gently, then leads you to the house.

[sylvanian-cat]

𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐧 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏

masterlist!

PAIRING - Daniel Larusso x Reader

TAGS: Friend to lovers, kissing, violence but only hitting and punching, karate kid, angst, fluff, characters fall in love, heartbreak, characters break up, happy ending, slow burn

SUMMARY: When A frazzled, and quite handsome boy from New Jersey slams a door in your face on the last day of summer vacation, you quickly take in interest in him after his magnanimous apology.

The hot and glorious sun shone upon your skin and the tall pine trees swayed, dancing in the light California breeze. You could feel the uncomfortable pile of sweat that hanged in the back of your shirt due to the simmering heat and you became aware of the strain the trash bag was starting to cause on your muscles.

The trash can wasn’t far, only right after the apartments’ wooden entrance then finally, after this tedious task was finally done, the rest of your evening could be spent doing whatever your teenaged heart pleased-

“HEEYAH-“ a loud and quick noise, so sudden, came from the front of the entrance and almost at the exact same time, your body slammed into the rough solid pavement.

Before you could even properly acknowledge your scratched up arms and the abandoned trash bag laying on the pavement you quickly sat up on your elbows ready to body slam whoever thought it was okay in their crazy mind to karate kick an apartment entrance as such.

You registered the feeling of a solid object hitting the ground, like a suitcase, and suddenly, a rushed and panicked but soft voice came before you could let out a whine of pain “Are you okay? Let me help you up yah!?”

Just from his voice alone, you could tell he was not from around here. His accent was unfamiliar, almost New-Jersey like, it was soft but gruff.

His voice wasn’t the only thing that was attractive too, his skin was tan and his jet black hair was fashionably parted; reminding you of those boys you and your friend would squeal and gush over when flipping through those 99¢ teen magazines .

The boy’s large brown eyes darted worriedly over your face, as if wanting to check for any sign of injury he might’ve caused.

“Oh god that was stupid, I shouldn’t have kicked the door like that. Are you alright miss….” His voice trailed off and his face was still covered with an expression of worryness.

His hands grabbed the ends of your elbows and your hands instinctively held onto his shoulders. Softly, as if he was handling glass, lifted you back onto your feet.

Stunned from the boldness of his actions, your voice came out quick and splurged replying with a nervous “Oh sorry! I’m Y/N, I live in apartment 15. You must be the new residents right?”

He flashed a nice smile with his bright teeth and replied with a friendly “Oh yeah! I just got here. I was just about to head up with my stuff but ya know…” he trailed off again and this time, glanced at the ground nervously and almost so quickly it could be easily missed.

Suddenly, the pounding of feet came from behind you and the handsome boy turned his gaze to behind your shoulder. You turned your head around and saw that it was the neighborhood boy, Freddy, who was your age and went to the same school as you.

“Hey Y/N, you alright down here? I heard the commotion and wanted to check what was up”

The new boy quickly, so quickly it could almost be missed if you weren’t focusing so hard on his handsome face, glanced worriedly in your direction and you realized he must have thought that Freddy was probably more than just a neighbor who lived in the same apartment complex as you and probably was coming down in order to defend your honor. Once Freddy descended down the stairs, he greeted the handsome boy with a friendly handshake and contently said

“Hey, you must be the new people in apartment 20 right? Freddy Fernandez apartment 17.”

The tan boy in return, did a small nod to show respect and replied back contently, “Daniel Larusso”

Freddy offered to take his bike upstairs, however, Daniel seemed hostile and instead you offered to take his suitcase in which he agreed with a small, satisfactory smile.

The two boys continued conversing on random topics most boys their age would do. However, you noticed Daniel seemed more stiff with his shoulders tense and his eyebrows pulled into a small wrinkle that could be unnoticed by the normal eye.

As you reached the last staircase, the neighboring hostile old woman was sitting in her chair with her pup, as usual. It was quite sweet seeing the way Daniel shoulders pulled back into a relaxed position and how his lips pulled into a small smile when interacting with the usually grumpy old woman. As you three continued up the stairs, you noticed his apartment was coming near and the number 20 on the front blue door was coming into view. You felt a small pang of sadness but quickly washed it over and instead, handed Daniel his suitcase back in which he quietly thanked you for.

Freddy interrupted your thoughts of Daniel with an outgoing invite of, “Hey you know Daniel, we’re gonna be throwing a party at the beach later tonight if you wanna come? It’ll be a way to put yourself out there and see what Reseda is like.”

As if he was thinking, Daniel’s eye darted to the corner and his face went blank; his polished brows slightly deepened. His gaze flickered back to Freddy and he replied quite calmly “Yeah, sure why not?”

His eyes side eyed you for a brief second until he twisted his whole body to face you

“Hey Y/N, you going too? I’m not really sure I wanna go if you ain’t there with me.

Again, his bold actions towards you were definitely shocking. No boy in this California town treated you like this random new kid from New Jersey did. You felt a bit ashamed by the delusions you were feeding yourself. He’s only being friendly because he doesn’t want you to be mad about the whole karate kick thing. Or maybe, that’s how boys from Jersey were, cute and bold.

“Oh yeah, umm definitely I’ll be there” you gave him a small smile in return so he could be shyed away from the overthinking thought of you not showing up.

Daniel softly took the suitcase from your hands and began rolling his bike towards the entrance of the building 20 and as he stood beside the door, he looked behind his shoulder facing you two as he talked, “Okay cool, I’ll meet you both there then yeah?”

Freddy replied back nonchalantly“Yeah definitely man, see ya there” and as Freddy continued towards his doorway, you decided it was best to continue back to your apartment and forget the delusional thoughts of the cute New Jersey kid who was just a hallway down from you. Maybe these beach hangouts won’t be as boring as they usually are now that there is somewhere more interesting, and definitely much more cuter in town…

Next Chapter (1/2)

✿READ ON WATTPAD✿

[shoheiii-showtime]

Showtime 🪼

Nsfw: if your a minor run for your life please and thank you

I have written in the past but I have never done Shohei so bear with be and sorry for any spelling mistakes I never have much time to write sorry in advance 🫡

Summary: you wanted to go out and support Shohei at has games and cheer for him but it wouldn’t be exciting if you didn’t tease him a bit.

Song: Stay ready- Jhené Aiko

Summer games were always exciting getting to get out of the house and watch the game and now that you and Shohei were married things were different. He always dictate a pitch to you and you were his lucky charm according to him. Just before the game started you were in the dugout with him he was going over his game plan they were playing the brewers and let’s just say last game got a little messy so this time he was determined to win.

“Shohei am 99% sure you got this is bag” you smiled at him. “I know but there is always the one percent” he said. “Well how about if win you get a special prize” you winked at him. He grabbed your waist and pulled you close while he sat down on the bench “And what would that prize be Mrs. Ohtani?”. You knew Shohei always wanted kids but since he was always out and about you never found time to try for kids and why not now. You leaned down and whisper in his ear “Well if you win all let you in me and do whatever want, and am not on the pill so maybe all let you try for a mini Shohei”. The look on his face was priceless Shohei was relatively inocente so he was bright red from ear to ear. “What happened Mr. Ohtani cat got your tongue” you said with your devilish little laugh. He stood up towering over you leaned down and whispered “ Well you better be prepared because am not going to stop in till am sure this another Ohtani inside of in you” now this time he was having the fun messing with you. Mike yelled “Come on Ohtani we got a game to play!!” Shohei gave you a kiss and he headed to the field and you headed to the stands but before you could Mike stoped you “Come on y/n you know there is so making out in the dugout” he said teasing you. “Oh shut it Trout” you threw his hat him “You better not lose this time Trout get your head in the game” you said walking out of the dugout “whatever” he said chuckling.

The game felt like hours you just kept replaying what Shohei told you. You kept seeing Shohei looking over at you winking and he had this stupid smirk on his face. But at last the game came to a end and he kept his word and they took the win you meet Shohei back at home and he got there a little before you did. Once you got there and put down your bag you felt him come up behind you and push you against the wall. “Now it’s time for me to have some fun” he whisper. He swiftly picked up and took you to yours guys shared room Shohei was usually soft lover but this time we was more rougher with you. He pinned you down to bed and kissed your roughly while he did that you snaked your hand down and unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. He was so focused on you he didn’t realize what you were doing until you began to touched his member. He tensed up and reached for your hand “Nun uh you started this so am gonna finish it” he said in a soothing voice. He unbuttoned the Angels jersey you were wearing and unbuttoned your jeans leaving you just in you bra and panties. He unbuttoned his shirt and boy it was a sight to see he was built even through this wasn’t the first time his muscular body it never failed to make you drool over him. He swiftly took off the remainder of him clothes and let his member free you can tell he has been worked up for a while there was already pre cum leaking out. He took your bra and panties off effortlessly. We was gonna tease you but he was way to worked up this time.

Without warning he went straight into you “Fuck Shohei” you were clawing at his back. He started moving at a fast pace you barely had anytime to process what was going on before the overstimulated kicked in. You have never seen Shohei so wreak less it was like a whole other person. Before you knew it flipped you over and put you on all fours and started at the same pace but we was hitting it from the back. “Shohei please..” you said. “Please what sweetheart?” Shohei said in low voice he was trying to suppress his own moans the stimulation was even a tad bit much for him. “Please make me cum” you said in a innocent voice and that pushed him to the edge. He started to slam into he was a little slow but he went in deep. He thrusted into a couple more times and came deep into to you. You both fell over breathing heavily. “Fuck you are something different Shohei” you said he just chuckled in response. “Well you are going to carry my child and I would do anything for you” he said he kissed your forehead and you both fell asleep.

[a-aexotic]

half & half. part 002. previous

warnings ; mentions of being hurt, abuse, and taking of pain meds.

main masterlist. obx masterlist.

You sat on the beach, letting the sun kiss your body. Sunglasses on your face, you were trying to get the best tan possible this summer before you leave, making sure to remember the OBX sun. You were sure that the sun didn't hit the mainland as well as it did here.

After last night, you tried your best to forget everything you heard. You'd never seen them fight like that with people around before. They always fought when guests weren't around. You wondered what couldn't pissed off Ward that much for him to lose his shit like that.

You kept reminding yourself that it wasn't your business and that you didn't know the whole story. Part of you wanted to defend Rafe. He was still very smart and charming (at times) like Sarah. Sure, he was an asshole but no one deserves to hear that from their father.

Hearing that fight opened up some memories you were trying to suppress and it was really hard pushing them away right now. You didn't want this whole thing to consume you but it was getting really hard not to.

You heard some footsteps behind you and then you heard Kie's voice echo, "Y/N, do you want some ice cream?"

"Yeah, sure. Can you get me-"

"Chocolate with sprinkles, I know your order, Y/N. Don't worry."

You smiled to yourself at her words. Kie was nothing if not observant, she knew you the best out of the Pogues, probably even more than JJ at times.

You heard some shouting behind you and you immediately recognized it as the Pogues. They always made a ruckus, everywhere they went. If the pogues were around, you definitely could hear them.

You felt Kie sit down in the towel next to you, handing you the ice cream. You sat up and took it from her, taking a quick taste before humming in approval.

"Best ice cream ever." You mumbled as you ate the ice cream.

Kie nodded with your words, "Yeah, it's my favorite."

You both sat in comfortable silence as you watched JJ tackle down Pope as John B recorded as if it was the most normal thing to ever happen. You felt the sun hit your face in the best way possible and tried to bask in it.

You looked down in your lap before at Kie, "Hey, um... How do you feel about Rafe?"

"Like, Rafe Cameron?" She looked over at you, interested in your words.

You nodded.

"Well, he's an asshole and I'm like 99% sure he's a sociopath. Why? Did he do something to you?"

"No, no." You said quickly, making Kie furrow her brows. "It's just... Um... I was at the Cameron's last night." You felt Kiara's mood shift and you tried your best to ignore it. "And I heard his dad say some pretty harsh things and he saw me and now I feel bad, I feel like I should've said something."

Kiara exhaled and laid back down. "No. Don't feel bad, it's none of your business and you couldn't have done anything to stop it. Rafe is a tough guy, he can handle himself."

You nodded at Kie's unhelpful advice. You sighed inwardly before sitting back down, trying to focus back up on tanning.

You drove all the Pogues back home and you were just left with your thoughts. The memories of when you were back with JJ's dad had come back to haunt you once again, no matter how hard you tried to drown them out. Even after all these years they still have the same effect they on you.

"You stupid boy!" Luke grabbed 6 year old JJ by the collar and threw him on the ground. He had sent JJ to go get some cigarettes from the store and they said they couldn't sell to him anymore because he hadn't paid his tab in two months. "Useless boy, all you ever do is make trouble, huh?"

He landed a punch in JJ's stomach and Y/N had finally had enough, running from the porch to grab JJ. "Stop! Stop it, you're hurting him!"

JJ was crying at that point and you were trying your best to hold in your tears. Luke had turned to you and grabbed your arm tightly.

"You think you're all tough now, huh, little bitch? Just like your mother?" Luke spat as you looked straight in his eyes, trying not to break your faux confidence. He landed a loud slap to your face. He pushed you away and you landed on the floor, hitting your back really hard.

You saw that Luke had went to JJ again and you couldn't help but let out a loud scream, grabbing the nearest stick and started charging towards him.

You jolted back into reality once you heard a car beep and you looked at the stop light turning green. You stepped on the gas and drove away. You needed some time to think and decided going back to the beach was the best idea.

You sat at the beach for what seems like hours before you felt like you were tired enough to go back home. Plus, you had work early tomorrow morning and staying up late wasn't the best idea.

You start walking to your car and you see something moving in your prereferral vision, causing you to whip your head around. You see what seems like a person, lying on the ground.

Your heart dropped and you started weighing down your options: leave them or go and see if they need help. If you left, you could leave a hurt person all alone or maybe it's a scheme so that someone could hurt you.

You heard a loud groan and then you realized you couldn't live with yourself if you just left them. You walked towards the person and your eyes widened in surprise once you realized who it was.

"Rafe?"

He was on his side, holding onto his stomach in pain. You surveyed his face and he had a very prominent black eye. He smelled like liquor so you knew he'd been drinking, which was nothing new.

You immediately bent down to hold his face to see if he was concious and he looked like he was on the verge of passing out. "Rafe, hey, look. I'm here, just keep listening to my voice, okay? I'm gonna get you out of here." You assured.

You slowly turned him around to his back, causing him to let out another loud groan. He was deadweight at this point so you needed to get him conscious if you were going to get him out of the beach and to safety.

"Rafe." You spoke again, leaning down to face to look at him. "Rafe, hey, come on, wake up. Please." You suddenly felt the urgency and started to lose your calm. What if he was in a coma? It looked like he hit his head pretty hard.

"Rafe! Hey, come on, man. Wake up, Rafe. You're okay, just come on, come back to me, come back." You were babbling at that point, trying to get him to respond to your voice in any way.

He suddenly grabbed your arm and you yelped in surprise. Relief spread through your body as he slowly started to come back. He fluttered his eyes open slowly.

"Y/N?"

"Rafe, listen, I don't know if you rememeber how you ended up here but uh, let's just focus on getting you back home."

He started to shake his head profusely, "No. Not home, anywhere but home, please Y/N."

Your heart started to ache at the sound of that. You don't know what exactly happened but if you had to guess, it had something to do with his dad.

"Okay, Rafe. Not home. Just help me get you up, alright?"

He nodded. You got up and gave him your hand and he gripped it before dragged him up. He could stand but his legs were still wobbly. You then put his arm over your shoulder and you both slowly started walking to your car.

You helped him get in the passenger seat and you put on his seatbelt for him. You got in the front seat and started driving home. You hoped that you parents weren't awake or you would have a lot to explain.

You looked over at Rafe every few to make sure he was alright. He fell asleep slowly and silently hoped he didn't have a concussion. You arrived home sooner than you expected and got out of the car, helping Rafe to get into your house.

Thankfully your parents were asleep, so you quietly helped Rafe up the stairs. He seemed to be getting better, more conscious. You then opened your bedroom door and helped him in your bed.

He immediately laid down and sighed in content. You started walking out of the room before he stopped you.

"Where are you going?" Rafe's voice echoed. You turned around and looked at the boy; he was sitting up and he looked like he was wincing. You walked over back to him and shook your head.

"I'm gonna get some pain meds. You just comfortable, okay?"

Before he could protest you quickly walked away, walking out into your big home to try and find some ibuprofen. You found it in the medicine cabinet, you also grabbed a bottle of water and a banana before returning to him. He hadn't known if he'd eaten that night and you wanted to make sure the medicine went down easy.

You went back to see that Rafe was fully in your bed now, laying down with an arm on his forehead. He turned his head to you once he heard the door open.

You moved to sit by him and handed him banana, putting the water and medicine on the nightstand. He looked confused and held back a chuckle.

"Eat the banana first then we'll take the medicine, alright?" You explained. As he ate the banana, you found yourself wanting to ask what happened. You knew it was too early though, and again, it wasn't your business. Your curiosity got the best of you though.

"How'd you end up at the beach so late at night?" You asked and Rafe got visibly more tense as he shifted. He shook his head and looked down.

"Doesn't matter." He replied shortly.

That wasn't the answer you were looking for but you weren't going to nag. Plus, you already had an idea of what happened and that made you sick enough. After he finished the banana you gave him the water and he gulped down half the bottle.

You handed him two ibuprofens and he took them as well. He sighed in relief once he downed them. You examined Rafe; he was sitting on top the comforter.

"Hey, can you get up for a sec?"

Rafe shifted before nodding, getting up and grabbing a pillow. You furrowed your eyebrows, "What's that for?"

"I'm gonna sleep on the floor."

You shook your head, "No. I'm not making you do that, we can sleep in the same bed. It's big enough."

Rafe opened his mouth to protest but you responded with a look of reassurance. "It's not we haven't before."

Rafe smiled at the memory as you lifted the comforter.

The Cameron's and your family went on a camping trip a few years back and you, Sarah and Rafe had to share a small tent for the trip. It was the only time all three of you went along and Rafe wouldn't admit this to anyone, but it was the most actual fun he'd have in years. He didn't even have to drink or to smoke anything for it to be enjoyable for him.

Rafe got into bed and you did soon after him, closing the lights. You tried to fall asleep but you just couldn't, the thought of Rafe being so close to you made your heat speed up. You had no idea why it did that, it wasn't like you liked Rafe. That would be a nightmare waiting to happen. 'It's just because it's been a while since we've had a boy (other than JJ) in this bed' You reassured yourself but it did little to nothing to.

Rafe shifted so that his face was facing you. He was just as awake as you were; even after the chaos that ensued tonight he still couldn't manage to sleep, but that wasn't anything new for him. You felt him staring at you and you turned your face to look at him. You could see him quite throughly because of the moonlight that was shining inside from your window.

"Thank you."

His voice was soft but it made your night to hear it. You smiled, "Of course."

He turned back around on his back and you both laid in silence. You tried to fall asleep with no avail. As Rafe began to drift to sleep, you felt something move from inside the sheets.

Rafe's hand moved on top of yours, lacing his fingers with yours. He gave your hand a heartening squeeze. You didn't try to stop it, just let it be. It was the comfort he needed after a long night.

You couldn't stop your heart from speeding up, though. His hands weren't as rough as JJ's, you note to yourself. They were soft but big and warm. The more you focused on his hand, the more tired you became. And before you knew it, you drifted off to sleep.

[beansidhebumbling]

We Stand Between Goliaths- Chapter 1

This was originally intended for Feylin week but in keeping with my reputation I am fashionably late. Thanks to @ae-neon, @kateprincessofbluewhales, and @feyres-divorce-lawyer. I can't write without encouragement and they were an endless well of it. Also I reckon this will be about 3 chapters in total if I stay motivated lol 😅

Some translations and notes at the bottom. I'll return later to add more. Please ask if there's something you don't know about and I'll make a note on it. If there is anything I missed or anything you have questions on please ask.

--

Old Moore's Almanack, a publication weighted by the faith of a nation, the bible of every town and village dotted liked barnacles on the rock of Ireland, failed them that summer. The worn pages of the copy, tied with string to the dresser by the back door, held no warning of the rare scorching heat that hit Mayo that August.

It held no warning of him either.

--

It crept in slowly first, the continental warmth a welcome novelty. Sure, on days like this, they said, when the cornflower blue skies kissed the rolling fields of Monet-painted green wasn't Ireland more beautiful than France and Spain?

'You're lucky to be away from Dublin for the Summer, young Archeron, aren't ya?'

Big Paddy McCaffrey commented, ringing up their purchases to add to the account, as Nesta ventured down the shop's only aisle for some flour. Feyre, focused on saving her 99, the milky ice-cream already saturating the thin wafer rim of the cone and dripping onto her sunscreen sticky hands, threw the man a tight smile.

'Suppose I am.'

She answered tersely.

'Strange all three of ye be home together, isn't it? First time since yer Ma passed, God rest her,'

He pressed, his hulking frame leaning over the old counter of the siopa, eyes searching for any shred of a story, or even better, a tear.

'Bout as strange as how you've aged ten years in the space of two, Paddy-boy.'

Her elder sister sniped as she emerged from the back corner of the shop, the bag of Odlum's safely in her grasp. The sharp lines of her trousers, some fine London make, cut through the dust motes, conjuring whirling ghosts as she marched towards the till.

Not leaving the huffing giant any room to retort, she grabbed Feyre's free hand, and they left the shaded confines of the shop to face the noon-day sun, a blistering presence high in the clear sky.

'Not looking like you're here to make friends, Nes.'

Feyre snorted, once out of earshot.

'Nosey fucker. They'll do his autopsy one day and find the Toormakeady Tribune instead of lungs inside him.'

The laugh that tickled its way from deep in her belly, had no breeze to dance on and so hung happily between them, another sign of the welcome if unfamiliar camaraderie birthed between them since their return to the home place in May.

Feyre did not know what her sister had found in London these last two years, but it looked an awful lot like peace.

'Speaking of gossip, did you see the new owner of Drimbawn House?'

'New new or new to us?'

Feyre asked. It was a relevant question. With Elain in Cork working in one of the big houses, Nesta abroad terrorising the lawyers at her new secretarial job, and Feyre in college, they had happily lost the rhythm of their birthplace.

'New to us. He bought it off Hollywood. Tamlin Stewart-Carmichael is his name. A fine block of a man by all accounts.'

Nesta paused to climb the gate behind the GAA pitch as they followed the path of their childhood, cutting through Ma Bryant's fields to get home.

'He's English. No surprise with a name like that. An excessive bunch in every way. Has only visited the place once after buying it but it's been kept in ship shape since last July, in case he wants to call on his summer residence.'

Feyre scoffed, running her hands through the grass that tickled their calves, rippling like the waves at her touch.

'What in Christ's name are they at? Houses for the seasons. Have you ever heard the like?'

'You wouldn't believe half of what I hear back in London with that posh lot. It's a different world Feyrín.'

Nesta grew quiet then, lost to a place across the sea, her mind's eye turned towards the unfamiliar horizon and, Feyre reckoned, to the secret letters that had been arriving with an English postmark since she'd landed on Irish soil.

Her heart full at the sound of a pet name she had not heard from Nesta in years, Feyre followed her sister home, as she had done all her life.

------

In a country where too much of a good thing was highly distasteful the unnatural heat soon extended beyond its welcome. After a week of no rain and blistering, bruising sun, the rumblings of concern began. The labourers started to seek shade to avoid the rage of noon and the farmers nearest the Lough Mask, let their cattle cool in gentle waters, for neither man nor beast in Toormakeady was built or bred for a Mediterranean climate.

Having been on nursing duty Monday night, Feyre greeted the dawn with a weary welcome. He was fading and she knew it. Her father, who had looked so frail when she'd come home that Summer, a husk of the hale man she'd known from childhood, felt like a figment now.

It hurt too much to sleep knowing by the minute more of him was lost to her, gone to a heaven Feyre had never truly believed in until death loomed. Because there was no way the story of John Archeron ended with a skeleton in the ground.

He was the ritual footing of turf. Lunch together on the bog, eating sandwiches Elain wrapped in tinfoil, the fresh bread slathered in Kerrygold with thick slabs of salty pork. A needed balm for the tired ache that radiated from neck to ankle. Sitting in the rusty Ford come sunset, drinking cold tea from a shared cupán before heading home, his wordless clap on her back the only praise she'd ever got or needed at the end of the day.

He was the man who'd never raised his voice in all of Feyre's life, bar the time she captained the U-15s to a camogie final, when his bellowing and cheering could be heard from Galway as she raised the corn above her head. She remembers him, cheeks full and face ruddy, the proudest he'd ever been Nesta said. For hadn't his Feyrín óg scored three goals and two points that day and led her team to victory.

He was her father, and, in that word, a million memories were stored.

Elain's bustling entry into the kitchen brought Feyre back to the present.

Her sister, already busying herself with making breakfast, whispered.

'How is he Feyrín?'

Stretching in the armchair by the stove, feeling the tension roll from her shoulders and down her arms, she shrugged.

'Not too bad, slept like a log for most of the night. He's still running a bit of a fever but that stuff the doctor gave him has eased the pain. Also don't worry about whispering, fairly certain Judgement Day couldn't rouse him right now.'

Meandering over to her sister she added.

'What's on the schedule today then?'

'Elain, expertly frying rashers and eggs, ran a critical eye over Feyre.

'Well, some food and the leaba for you I'd imagine anyways. Did you sleep at all?'

Feyre ignored the question.

'I'm not tired, El. Actually was going to head on over to the Kelly's place. They've been shocking good taking the herd when Da got sick, but I can manage them now. Reckon I'll sell half at Ballymote this month, bring the number down, you know?'

Elain's back stiffened, her sister in temperament and posture as flexible and fluid as the willow, became stone. Only the crackling and hissing of breakfast could be heard.

Words careful and softly spoken passed her lips.

'Have you spoken to Nes?'

'No. She's never been interested in the farm. Didn't think I needed to ask permission.'

The words, daggers of her making, pointed at Elain.

Her sister's soothing tone did nothing but rankle her further.

'It's not about permission, Fey. I just think we should make these decisions together.'

But though Elain dealt in serenity, she could wield knives too and often did with deceptive skill. Sticking one in Feyre's gut she said with feeling.

'It's what Da would want.'

Her doe-eyed sister who vomited sugar and ribbons could be a right bitch.

Too close to bleeding from her eyes, hurt and a desperate anguish crawling from her stomach and up her throat, Feyre turned towards the back door, grabbing some blackberries, juicy and shining, from the glass bowl by the Almanack.

'I'm going for a walk. I'll be back for dinner.'

The words spilled from her, gruff and broken, trails of hot saltwater carving famine roads along her high cheekbones.

With Elain who'd always read people like Nesta read books, burning holes into her back, Feyre pulled on her boots and grabbed her old hurley, that was tucked neatly in its shrine of a nook by the door.

It was time to visit the forest.

---

The camóg sat like a comfort in Feyre's hand, its weight familiar and grounding, the sleek ash stained with dirt at the boss. She imagined this was how warriors of old felt carrying their swords, this strange companionship, an extension of herself that knew her in a way no person could.  

As was the case when Feyre had a hurl in hand, time moved differently, the mixed woodland hurtled by a blur of brown and green, the ferns that crept onto the path crushed beneath her boots. Bouncing the sliotar off the ash, she focused only on that settling pulse, on finding the perfect balance to keep that round ball on the curved head of the stick, on the thumping of her feet against dusty ground.  

And gradually that burning sadness that ate at her heart, the searing anger at her sister's face, too soft to be so cruel, faded from stinging tears to a small hole at the pit of her stomach. Contained and controlled for now.  

After all, Setanta didn't cry. 

She ran and ran, taking joy in the burning muscle of her thighs, the stinging of her eyes, the heavy panting of her breath, until she reached the boundary line where Toormakeady Forest met the Hollywood Hills.  

Stopping at the rusted gate choked by bindweed, where lus na teanga grew between the tufts of grass as the path faded to an end, Feyre stared out across the rolling hills of the English fella's fields, just about able to spot the glittering waters of Lough Mask in the distance.  

When Richard had lived here, it was custom to walk through the hills. Hollywood, as he was known, a retired American actor had been genial if distant, happy for the village to take the short-cut through his land provided they never approached the house. 

Feyre reckoned he might have been more than a bit offended if he knew exactly how well that suited the villagers in kind.

But now this Tamlin Stewart-Carmichael had co-opted the land the rules had likely changed.

With a fecklessness more characteristic than she'd prefer to admit Feyre hopped the gate anyways. Ignorance was bliss and in weather like this no jumped-up staff of an absent gentleman were going to get between her and the shining waters.

---

Lough Mask lapped at her legs cool and tickling as she stood to her knees in the water, a medicine Feyre had not known she needed, easing the feverish redness that coloured her cheeks and gently tempering the fire that still roiled quietly in her gut. 

Looking out from the shore, Feyre faced the distant veridian mountains that sat the far side of the expanse of rippling greyness. There they stood, imposing Goliaths set in sharp contrast to the saturated summer sky. The bays and cries of livestock nearby seemed so muted, overwhelmed by the gentle rhythm of the calm opaque waters.  

Tranquillity found her briefly. 

And left rapidly when, out of nowhere but Hell surely, a naked man arose from the lake, splashing and gasping for air, a siren of old. 

'Sweet Jesus!' 

Feyre yelled, lifting her hurley above her head to take a crack at the blond menace before her.  

‘Don’t!’ 

He commanded, raising his tanned well-muscled arms in mercy. His voice was deep, with the distinct sharp bite of an English accent. 

She dropped her hurley before him in the water in panic before grabbling it and retreating to the land. Her wet feet smarting at the pinch of the pebbles as she made the rapid withdrawal, putting distance between them. Man, or siren, she was not interested in drowning either which way. 

‘Who the fuck are you?’ 

She pointed the hurl accusatorily at him.  

Sitting back into the water, his lower half became submerged once more. Not that Feyre would forget what she saw in a hurry. As it was, the well-hewn muscles on his abdomen, shining with water droplets and the crosshatch of curling golden hair on his chest, was distraction enough.  

Smirking slightly, green eyes dancing, he replied, 

‘I could ask you the same question...Miss.’ 

Apollo had stopped pulling the sun and landed his chariot in Toormakeady to laugh at her apparently.  

 ‘Anyone who is anyone in these parts knows my face, Sassenach. On voice alone, if you’d ever set foot in the village, I’d know ye.’ 

His dimples seemed to share an inside joke with the lines that creased his eyes as he stared at her. Definitely entertained and strangely delighted at this bizarre encounter it seemed.  

‘Touché, Miss.’ 

‘Odd name that,’ 

She stated drily. 

He laughed. A gentle thing, carried in huffs and breaths by the soft breeze off the lake. 

‘You wield your words as well as your weapon....’ 

He motioned lazily towards the hurley,  

‘...Feyre Archeron.’ 

Her eyes widened in shock, and, following the movement of his arm, were confronted with the thick Sharpie scrawl of her name along the handle.  

Well, shit. 

Her pulse began to settle all the same to a somewhat normal rhythm now she was out of arm’s reach of the dangerously alluring specimen. 

‘You must be connected to yer man moving into the big house then,’ 

She gestured vaguely towards Drimbawn. If she had the sense God gave a rat she’d walk away now, leg it back home. But Feyre would not be scared from the lake, let alone by some Englishman so she continued, 

‘Usually, the posh lot hire locally or at least Hollyw.. the last fella did. But then again, it’s been a few generations since we’ve had someone with the brass neck to keep such a beautiful place as a second home. Can’t say I’m terribly fond of your boss there, stranger.’  

Pink roses blossomed on his cheeks and a large, veined hand pulled at the wavy sun-bleached strands that tickled his shoulder. 

‘He has hired local men. Um... I’m here to just keep things running until he comes to visit. I’m Ta-Tanner.’ 

He went to stand up and shake her hand. Some remnants of well-intentioned civility she imagined, however when challenged by his pronounced obliques, the last of her good sense and innate Catholic shame made her turn rapidly on her heel to face the forest she’d come from.  

‘Easy there, squire. Might want to put some trousers on first.’ 

‘Of course.’ 

He answered, voice apologetic and brimming with a crushing embarrassment that made her want to cackle. 

He was like art. Like whomever Michaelangelo thought of when he had carved David. 

Her supplies had remained zipped away since coming home. It seemed wrong to take joy in the delicate scratch of lead on paper, to crave the feeling of dried acrylic on canvas and skin. Where she usually saw endless, boundless colour and life, there existed only delicate ash structures. It struck her, this sudden wish to paint Tanner, as the first time since she’d seen her father so frail in that flimsy, miserable bed off the kitchen, she wished to paint. Her first time seeing and tasting glorious colour again.  

A shadow fell against her own. 

‘You can turn around now.’ 

Tanner murmured quietly.  

Feyre came face to face with the most beautiful person she’d ever seen. His looks, that were barely palatable from a safe distance, threatened to overcome her as he stood within arm’s reach. The freckles that dotted his nose, slightly crooked from at least one break she imagined, and across his high cheekbones, seemed to map constellations of the night. But he, gilded like the horizon at sunset, was no child of the moon.  

His eyes, speckled with brown flecks like oak leaves smouldered as they met hers, the threatening spark to a flame. 

Casting her sight down, coward that she was, she focused instead on the cotton of his shirt, which though crinkled, was luxurious and well-crafted.  

‘The big man must pay well indeed,’ 

She scoffed.  

‘He’s not a bad guy, all things considered.’ 

He remarked, his hand glancing off her own, a touch just slight enough to claim as an accident.   

‘I’m sure he’s a charmer.’ 

Feyre muttered. 

The silence that settled between with a comfort that seemed unearned, a space of knowing and understanding. It was this, this strange contentment in her soul, that said stay, which prompted Feyre to run. 

‘You best be going, it’s nearly time to do the milking.’ 

She prompted.  

His eyes shuttered, disappointment flickering through them before he nodded reluctantly.  

‘Oh yes, of course. The milking...For the cows.’ 

His hand caught hers gently, encasing it within his, and Feyre who had never felt delicate in her life, felt like a doll in his giant grip.  

‘Do you come here often Feyre?’ 

A question that sounded more like a plea. 

Her heart, ever the loyal organ, beat to the rhythm of his.  

‘I’ll be here tomorrow,’ 

She replied breathily, unsure yet whether it was a lie or truth, before breaking his grasp and running back towards the forest.  

You’ll be back tomorrow,  

Her heart whispered.  

-- 

As she disappeared from view, the mountains and a liar watched on.  

---

Translations:

Feyrín- Little Feyre (Fey-reen). Common structure in Irish. Add -ín at the end and things become small. See names like Róisín (Little Rose) or bothrín (little road, i.e. a lane).

cupán- cup (cup-awn)

óg- young (oh-guh). Common to put after someone's name if they are young, sort of like Junior in English. Especially traditionally in families where there's a family name. E.g. there's a grandfather Connor and a grandson Connor in the one family, the grandfather could become Connor Sean (Old Connor) and the grandson, Connor Óg.

leaba- bed (lah-baa)

camóg- hurl (less common term used for a hurl when playing camógie. See the notes below for more context).

Further Notes for Context:

GAA- Gaelic Athletic Association consists of four indigenous Irish sports (hurling/camogie, Gaelic football, handball and rounders). Hurling and Gaelic football are by far the most popular. I didn't even realise rounders was on the list and I've been involved with the GAA since I was a kid.

[practicingsmut]

Saturday

gamer!jisung x reader, 2.6k words, spot the sequel bait

Saturdays were supposed to be your lazy days, the kind where you stay in your pajamas all day, eat leftovers for lunch and take out for dinner, and do nothing more mentally or emotionally taxing than play video games with your online friends.

This Saturday was different.

Sana, your childhood best friend and roommate, decided that she wanted to throw a party to celebrate the advent of summer. Of course, she had never thrown a party before despite having gone to so many, so your help was enlisted to make sure everything ran smoothly.

“I only invited, like, ten people, and each of them is only going to bring one or two of their friends,” she explained as she loaded bag after bag of chips into the shopping cart. You looked at her, eyebrows raised.

“Sana, you do realized that adds up to around thirty people coming over, right? Where are they all going to fit?”

“Our living room and kitchen are big enough to hang out in. Plus we’ve got the balcony!” She pulled the cart further down the aisle towards the pretzels, causing you to stumble as you had been leaning on it.

“What about the fact that we only have one bathroom?”

At this comment she paused. “Well, we’ll just hope for the best with that.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “This is going to be an expensive trip. We haven’t even grabbed any alcohol yet, plus you said you wanted to get some pizzas.”

“Mina said she’s gonna stand at the door and collect $10 from everyone as they walk in,” Sana explained. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to pay.”

“Gee, thanks.”

The rest of the morning and much of the afternoon passed in a blur as you helped her set everything up. At one point you recieved a plethora of Discord pings, your usual gaming friends SpearB, CB97, and J.ONE wondering where you were. You merely responded that you were busy, resolving to tell them all about the horrors of throwing a party later.

Then the guests began arriving. You knew a few of Sana’s friends - Mina, who did as promised and collected the entry fee from everyone, as well as a couple of others like Nayeon and Jeongyeon. For every person you recognized, however, there were at least three you didn’t. You were pretty certain more than thirty people showed up, but that was none of your business.

You hung back in the kitchen where only a bit of the party spilled over. Most of the people were only there to grab a second, third, or fourth drink from the coolers set up on the counter. You were still on your first, some cheap cider that you weren’t quite fond of, but it was better than the other stuff Sana had bought.

“Excuse me, can I grab a drink from behind you?” A voice pulled you from your thoughts. A familiar voice. You looked at the guy who had spoken to you as you shifted out of his way.

He was taller than you, though not by more than two or three inches. His messy hair was dyed a blueish grey and he had the kind of cheeks that grandmothers would love to pinch as they told their grandkids how much they’d grown. You’d never seen him before, and yet you knew that voice…

“J.ONE?” you said, voice raising as if it were a question though you knew with 99% certainty who you were talking to.

“Do I… know you?” he asked back, clearly confused.

“Of course you know me, I kicked your ass in TFT just last night,” you scoffed. Realization dawned on his face.

“Hiraeth? Oh my god, what are you doing here?” He called you by your gamertag the same way you did with him. You suddenly realized that despite knowing him for two years, you never exchanged your real names.

You told him what to call you before explaining that this was your apartment.

“This is your party?” He was right to be skeptical; if you were the kind of person who threw parties, chances were that you wouldn’t be online with him and your other friends every weekend and most of the weekdays, too. “I’m Jisung, by the way.”

“It’s my roommate’s party, technically. I’ve been helping her prep for it all day, which is why I couldn’t get on to play earlier.”

Jisung nodded. “That’s fair. My friend Hyunjin invited me to tag along, and since we didn’t have the full crew to do anything tonight I figured why not? Kinda regretting it though, since parties are totally not my scene. Though I did get to meet you in person, so that’s pretty cool.”

“Wanna take a break from this? We can go do something back in my room,” you offered. Jisung accepted gratefully.

Your room was what you liked to call an ‘organized mess’. Sure, there were piles of clothes all over the ground, but you knew which ones were clean and which ones needed to be washed, and there were only two empty cups on your desk. Jisung stepped into the room as you locked the door behind the two of you. The last thing you wanted was for a couple of drunk party goers to think they could use your room to hook up. It also provided you with a mental barrier, letting you pretend there was nothing going on outside of this space.

“You don’t have a bedframe,” Jisung commented. You followed his gaze over to where your mattress was on the ground.

“Yeah, my old one broke a few weeks ago when I threw myself onto it too hard, and I just haven’t gotten around to replacing it,” you explained.

“Right. Well, at least you’ve got a nice battlestation. Why don’t we boot something up?” He immediately made himself at home in your gaming chair, pulling up your library of games.

“Let me see if I can snag a chair from the living room.” Jisung caught your wrist as you went to move past.

“Oh, don’t bother. You can just sit on my lap. Probably more comfortable than those wooden things you’ve got out there.”

“If you insist,” you said with a chuckle.

Jisung was right - his lap was much more careful than the chairs you and Sana had pulled off the side of the road to furnish your apartment. Almost too comfortable, you thought as you settled against him so that his chest was flush with your back. You found it odd to be so comfortable with him so quickly. You had been friends for a couple of years, but this was still the first time you had met in person.

“Yo, is this that game that SpearB was talking about the other day? How’d you get early access?” The game in question was some experimental horror game that had originally been an indie project before being bought and redeveloped by a bigger company.

“Honestly, they just emailed me and asked if I wanted the early access in exchange for giving feedback. I guess they saw how many hours I have on their other titles and figured I’d be their target audience.”

“That is so cool.”

“You wanna play? You can start a fresh save. I’ve already got a couple hours on it so you won’t have to worry about spoiling me on the content.”

Jisung did not have to be told twice. A minute later his arms were wrapped around you in order to reach the controller, his head propped up on your shoulder. It would have been a cute, intimate moment if not for the fact that he was so engrossed in the game that he didn’t even seem to realize the two of you were technically cuddling.

You, on the other hand, were more than aware, especially thanks to the growing erection you could feel against your tailbone. It had to have been a reflex caused by the friction of how you were sitting, nothing more, but it still sent your mind racing. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t imagined what it’d be like to fool around with a few of your online friends, mostly Jisung thanks to his smooth honey-like voice, and now that you’ve seen just how attractive he was, well, there was nothing stopping you from pulling him over to your bed and fucking him right then and there.

Nothing except the video game, of course.

“Shit,” he cursed as he died again. The harshness of the sound and the way his breath caressed the shell of your ear sent a shiver down your spine.

“You want me to do this boss? It’s like, weirdly hard despite being the first one in the game. It took me like six tries to finally kill the thing,” you offered.

Jisung handed you the controller, his hands hovering in the air for a moment as he tried to figure out where to put them when your chair didn’t have armrests. You gently guided them to rest on your thighs and Jisung swallowed hard.

“This is what you gotta do…” you proceeded to walk him through the combos that you discovered worked best against the boss and in no time at all, you beat him. You looked over your shoulder at Jisung, waiting for him to react.

“Would it be out of place for me to say that it’s really fucking hot watching you kick ass at this game?” His voice was a little unsteady, and you figured it had something to do with the throbbing erection that still poked at your backside.

“Only if you don’t do anything about it,” you retorted.

A moment later you were shifted to be sitting perpendicular to Jisung so that he could get his mouth on yours, the lingering taste of the cheap beer flavoring the kiss. One hand ran gently up your spine and came to rest on the back of your neck while the other gripped your hip as if he were holding on for dear life. You smiled at the thought that you had riled him up so much.

Unable to hold yourself back any longer, you pushed his hand from your hip to your crotch, sliding it underneath the waistband of your leggings and hoping he’d get the hint. He hesitated briefly before pushing past your underwear as well until his fingertips came into contact with your already dripping cunt. You both moaned at the contact.

“Glad I’m not the only one insanely turned on right now.”

Your mouths stayed glued together the entire time as he pumped first one finger and then two in and out of your hole. He wasn’t able to pull out very far thanks to the restriction of your underwear, but that just meant he was incentivized to push his long fingers further in, making you whimper as they brushed against your g-spot. Then his thumb found your clit and you were cumming hard. Jisung slipped his fingers out of your pants as you came down from your high and popped his sticky fingers in his mouth.

“I’ve got condoms in the drawer of my nightstand,” you breathed out, chest heaving from the effort of your climax.

Without responding, Jisung stood with you in his arms and crossed the room to your bed. He placed you down gently, leaving you to strip yourself of your clothes while he did the same with his own. Your hand immediately found his cock as soon as it was free, pumping it a few times while he went in search of the condoms you mentioned.

“There’s, uh… there’s a lot more in here than just condoms,” he said, blushing at the contents of the drawer.

You rolled your eyes. “So I’ve got a few toys, big deal. Now, are you going to come down here and fuck me or am I going to have to use one of them while you watch?”

Jisung’s cock twitched in your hand. “We might have to circle back to that idea later,” he admitted.

You laid back on the bed as Jisung rolled the condom down his length and positioned himself at your entrance. His tip poked you a few times, but he didn’t move to go any further.

“Is something wrong?” you asked, reaching up to take his face in your hand and turn it so he was looking at you. A nervous blush crept across his cheeks.

“Um… would you mind being on top? At least for now. I think I’d feel more comfortable with that.”

Of course you wouldn’t deny his request. As he settled back where you had been laying, you reminded him that he could tell you to stop at any point. He made sure you knew the same applied to you.

Jisung’s cock was like his fingers - long and slim and hitting you in all the right places. From his place lying back he grabbed at your tits as you rode him, fingers grazing your nipples before they were out of reach again.

“Sit up,” you gasped. You wanted to kiss him when he did so, but his movement caused the angle of how he was inside you and you had to adjust to that first. Jisung whispered in your ear, though what he said was lost completely as your mind focused on the reverberation of his voice. It had your slick pooling out of you.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he growled as you clenched around him. “Can I flip us over?”

“Be my guest.” You weren’t even sure if your words came out the way they were supposed to, but Jisung got the message.

As soon as you were on your back he was thrusting harder and faster than you had been able to move when you were on top. You instructed Jisung to open his mouth and though he was confused, he did as you asked. His eyes widened as you slipped two fingers in to wet them with his spit before sliding them down your body to rub harsh circles on your clit.

It was the squeezing that resulted from your orgasm that finally sent Jisung over the edge. You felt the warmth of his cum even through the condom and it made you wonder what it would feel like spilling down the back of your throat. You were about to ask what he thought about round two when he interrupted you.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

“What?” It was just about the only thing he could have said that would have shocked you as much as it did.

Jisung peeled himself off of you and moved to dispose of the used condom. “It’s just that, well, I’ve been saying for the better part of a year that if I ever met you in person that I’d ask you. I just never imagined the question would come after we did.”

You chuckled at his joke. “And what will the boys think of us dating?”

“Honestly? They’d say it’s about fucking time. I’ve been pining over you for ages and they’ve made it clear that they’d much rather deal with the two of us doing mushy couple things than hear me sigh wistfully after you leave the voice call again.”

���You’re such a dweeb,” you said with a smile, pulling him down for a kiss. “Luckily for you, dweebs are just my type.”

“Is that a yes?” he asked. You nodded and pressed closer to him, deepening the kiss. The two of you were now kneeling, you on the mattress and him on the floor, limbs tangling around each other.

“Why don’t you hop on now to tell them the great news? It is a Saturday night so chances are they’re on. It’ll be really funny for you to pop into chat under my name.”

“Hmm, I think it can wait a bit. I think my naked girlfriend deserves my attention more than they do.”

“What if I suck your dick from underneath the desk while you do it?”

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddiemas challenge.

Permanent 99

Prompt Day 30: Smut Themed Sentence Starters | Word Count: 2811 | Rating: E | CW: Sexual Content, 18+ Only | Tags: Sports AU, Swimming AU, Modern Setting, Eddie & Gareth are BFFs, Olympic Swimmers, Heat Wave, Outdoor Fooling Around, Blowjob, Eddie POV

This follows my Sports AU drabble from @steddieholidaydrabbles where they were Olympic Swimmers, but can be read standalone.

This one is also available right here on AO3.

we're hot and sticky as we can get, don't need to go swimming to be soakin' wet, you lean in and you bite my lip, it's hard to be cool in heat like this, sweat drop at the end of your nose, makes you lose your mind and lose your clothes Christian Kane, Permanent 99

Eddie rests his forearm over his eyes, attempting to block out the way too bright sun and wipe the sweat away from his forehead at the same time. 

The strips of cheap vinyl from the PVC lounger are sticking to his bare back and he can't seem to shift in any way to get comfortable with the feeling. Steve is worth millions, but he's dragged out some old as shit, tri-fold lounge chairs from last century. They had to have been stashed in his parents' pool house, left over from the eighties, faded from sun and years of disuse. If Eddie's going to be subjected to the summer sun, he's definitely gonna need a newer chair, because this is really not working for him. 

He's sticking to it in ways that feel really gross.

That has a lot to do with the fact that it's so humid it's almost insufferable. The glare off of the water isn't helping matters. It's blinding him, even through his sunglasses. They've spent a lifetime looking at pool water, so Eddie's not entirely sure why they're still doing it now, on their own time.

“It’s hot as shit,” Eddie finally announces, moving his arm just enough to catch a glimpse of Steve next to him.

Steve smiles, seemingly unconcerned by the unrelenting heat. 

He's tanned, and glistening in the sun, looking every bit of a Greek god. That bastard.

Eddie's actually seen Steve in Athens, at the fucking Olympiad itself, and he damn well didn't look anything like he does right now. Steve was only nineteen then, still just a kid chasing a dream. And, now he's a man. A gorgeous man.

Eddie is pretty sure he looks like an overheated, wet cat in comparison. A pitiful thing that probably just needs put down.

But Eddie grins, because retirement looks good on Steve Harrington. Damn good. Retired before thirty. That's quite the thing to wrap his head around. 

But that's not going to stop Eddie's complaining.

“From now on, summer months will be spent strictly indoors. It's too hot, and I’m too pale for this,” Eddie declares, as if that is the final decision on the subject matter.

It isn't. Not if his perpetually sun-kissed boyfriend has a say in the matter.

Steve just rolls his eyes, and doesn’t look away from his magazine, "You made the worst dressed list, again," Steve offers, flashing the glossy pages in his direction. "They put you on the fug list."

Well, Eddie doesn't give a flying fug what that rag thinks. He's gonna wear what he's gonna wear. 

"And let me guess, you're in the other column?" Eddie asks, but he already knows it. Ever since they went public with their relationship after retirement, they've been tabloid fodder. Everyone has been speculating on how long this has been going on (since Athens) and how long it will last (hopefully forever) and they've picked apart every last detail of their lives they can get their hands on. And their very different style choices have been a popular topic of conversation.

Steve retired, Eddie didn't. Until he did. And now, they're both out of the meat grinder, free at last to do whatever they want to with all this brand new free time. Eddie's had fun running swim clinics for kids, and Steve has been funneling his time and money into his charitable foundation.

The rest of the time, they spend lazing together, just like this. Finally getting to really build this relationship of theirs into something even deeper, and stronger, than ever before.

They can't leave swimming, not totally. It's in their blood. But it's nice to be away from the early practices and constant sacrifices you have to make to be an Olympian, not just once, but several Games in a row.

Their not-so-secret love went public at Eddie's last Games, when Steve showed up, but kept out of the announcer's booth, and refused to be interviewed. He wasn't there for his own promo. Everybody was pissy about it, wanting a piece of him, wanting the ratings boost his voice, his face, would bring in. But Steve was only there to see Eddie, Gareth and the rest of his friends on Team USA swim, that's it.

So, it didn't take long for rumors to reach a fever pitch, and instead of denying them. They just admitted they were together, and had been, for a very long time. And now, they were looking forward to retirement, together. 

And that was that. 

They've been holed up at Steve's house ever since, trying to keep away from prying eyes, to just be together. With no other commitments. No early practices. No strict diets.

They're just Eddie and Steve. No longer Harrington and Munson.

But, Eddie's getting a little stir crazy and a lot hot. He needs to be anywhere but beside a pool right now.

“I haven’t even set foot in the goddamn pool and I’m sweating through my trunks,” Eddie whines, just making sure his opinion on the subject has been heard by Steve, loud and clear.

“Shoulda rocked the banana hammock, bro,” Steve supplies with a shrug of his shoulders, laughing loudly, totally unbothered by Eddie’s constant bitching. 

Eddie smiles, "Don't call me bro, dude."

Steve giggles, and it's the best sound. So carefree. All that weight of expectation just…gone. It was amazing to see. Retired from professional swimming, Steve doesn’t sweat the small stuff, not anymore. And Eddie is one hundred percent down for that.

"Speedos aren’t exactly casual pool wear, regardless of what you might think, Harrington,” Eddie adds.

“Sure they are,” Steve answers, waving his hand over his lap.

Eddie looks over at Steve, and lowers his sunglasses down his nose. Steve's wearing a tiny, all-white Speedo that Eddie can't look away from. It was a purposeful choice, Eddie is well aware. 

Steve's baiting him. 

And the white makes it basically see through. It’s nearly obscene and Eddie knows damn good and well Steve wore it on purpose, knowing he’d either sweat through it, and make it see through, or end up in the pool…and make it see through. 

Eddie knows this game well and it sadly always, always works on him. He's an easy mark. Always has been when it comes to Steve Harrington.

Eddie pushes his glasses back up on his face.

“You're right, the Federation should have forgotten all about the tech suits and went back to those," Eddie says, licking his lips, wetting them. Two can play at this game.

There’s a sweat drop clinging to the end of Steve’s nose and Eddie reaches over to catch it with his thumb. Raking his eyes all over Steve.

"Is this seriously turning you on?" Steve asks, lifting an eyebrow. "I'm basically wearing an old work uniform."

Eddie just nods, looking at every inch of Steve's body. Still toned, but already going slightly softer in places. Not to mention all the body hair. Steve's hairy, when the fuck did that happen? After only knowing him as the shaved and waxed swimmer, this has been a fucking revelation of a magnitude Eddie can't even put into words. 

Steve's a man. No longer the kid he was when they met, a million years and a million miles away from here.

"You're staring," Steve says, teasing him, and Eddie just nods. He's definitely staring and he'll do it some more. 

Steve smiles and sets his magazine down and crawls over onto Eddie’s lounger, straddling Eddie’s thighs. It creaks and shifts under them, and Eddie holds his breath, and prepares for the little metal legs to collapse. It doesn't, miraculously, and Steve takes Eddie's stillness for an opportunity to lean in and bite at Eddie’s bottom lip before Eddie can, well, give him any more lip. Eddie groans a little at the feeling, hands settling on Steve’s hips. Steve deepens the kiss and runs his fingers through Eddie’s sweat-damp hair.

When they finally break apart, Steve is even slicker with sweat than he was before, but he just grins down at Eddie.

“Let’s go in,” Eddie urges, thumbs tracing lazy circles on Steve’s exposed hip bones. Running his thumb over Steve's Olympic rings tattoo that's just barely peeking over the top of the tiny Speedo. 

Steve took Eddie to get his own rings tattoo after his first Olympics, and Eddie took Gareth after his. It's a sacred tradition. 

Eddie presses his thumb into the slightly faded ink, then dips it lower, stroking until he feels coarse hair under his thumb. Then, he's sliding his other hand up and down Steve's hairy thigh. More hair. Hair for days.

In fact, Steve’s chest hair is damp and right in Eddie’s face. It’s driving him a little wild. Steve spent so many years shaved, that this has been a goddamn turn on. Eddie leans forward and buries his face in Steve's chest.

Steve just laughs, and pushes Eddie back down, nipping at Eddie’s neck playfully, “S’good out here.”

“Think of the air conditioning. And the big, big bed.”

“This is bed-like,” Steve insists, reaching over and hitting the lever sending the chaise flat. The unsteady metal legs wobble comically and Eddie laughs as Steve topples over on top of him ungracefully. It's a nice change of pace, since Eddie often feels like he's the ungraceful one nearly everywhere but in the water. Always one wrong move from a trip to the E.R., while Steve stands by, shaking his head. 

Eddie’s fairly certain this flimsy-ass chair can't hold their combined weight indefinitely, even without Steve trying to fuck him through it. But he still runs his fingers through Steve’s hair, pulling him closer, encouraging him. 

He'll ride this train into the ground, without question. 

Steve closes his eyes, and grinds down against him.

Eddie grips Steve’s hips, resting his fingers against Steve’s ass, cupping him through the Speedo. When he squeezes his fingers underneath the tight material, Steve opens his eyes to meet Eddie’s, and Eddie just raises an eyebrow, questioning.

“By all means,” Steve answers, lifting up enough for them to work together to get it shimmed off his ass.

It isn’t easy. Removing a wet Speedo never is, and Steve’s wallering him in the process. Eddie almost takes a knee to the nuts, but they finally get it peeled off Steve's hips and tossed onto the ground. 

Steve unties Eddie’s trunks and pulls the Velcro closure apart loudly. He snakes his hand inside and closes his fist around him, and Eddie can’t help but buck up into the tight grip. 

“Fuck, Steve,” Eddie pants, leaning back further, enjoying the feeling.

Steve smiles and leans forward, chasing him, licking a path of sweat off of Eddie’s chest. It makes Eddie shiver unexpectedly and he can’t stop himself from tangling his hand in Steve’s hair. Urging him lower. Steve takes the hint. He always does.

He pushes apart Eddie's trunks, getting himself better access, and Eddie lifts up, to let him tug them down a little further, but not all the way off. 

Eddie groans when Steve’s mouth makes contact with his dick.

He rests his hand on Steve's head, feeling every movement from above and below. Steve's a gold medal cocksucker, that's for goddamn sure. 

"That's good, sweetheart," Eddie says, and Steve hums in acknowledgement, head moving up and down, hand doing the rest of the work in tandem. 

Eddie slides his hand down to Steve's face, pressing his palm to his stubbly cheek, and Steve changes the angle, so the head of Eddie's dick now hits the inside of his cheek with every bob of his head, bumping against Eddie's palm.

Steve's teasing him, playing with him, but it's fucking hot. 

So hot, and it's all Eddie can take, honestly, and he arches his hips off the chair, coming. 

Steve pulls off, and makes eye contact as he swipes his tongue around his mouth, gathering up Eddie's come on his tongue, which he shows Eddie, before swallowing.

"You're gonna kill me," Eddie says, as he moves to wrap his hand around Steve's hard dick, but Steve holds up one finger, wagging it at him. 

And then he slides fully on top of Eddie, and ruts into his hip. Using Eddie to get himself off.

Jesus H. Christ. 

Retired Steve is his favorite version, so far. Even more than top of the podium Steve. Or secret locker room blowjob Steve.

This version? His to keep? This is the one. 

Steve's breathing heavy into Eddie's ear, hot puffs of air and soft moans that make Eddie wish he could get hard again right now. Eddie digs his fingers into Steve's slick back, just along for the ride. Getting to enjoy the sights and sounds of Steve working hard. Breath catching with exertion. 

It's so familiar, and yet, brand new.

Steve lets out a groan in Eddie's ear, and then comes inside Eddie's shorts, and that's a new feat, for sure. 

Steve clearly doesn't give a fuck if he glues himself to Eddie's pubic hair, as he lays down on Eddie fully. Naked, sated and happy. This is the kind of hot Eddie isn't going to complain about. 

He almost says so, when he feels the whoosh of air blow past his arm before there’s a splash in the pool. He freezes. He doesn’t dare open his eyes, even if he’s certain it’s only Gareth. Maybe Robin, if he's really unlucky.

Steve's house has a revolving door. You never know who's gonna show up, unannounced.

And Eddie can't help it, he flushes even further, cheeks red and hot, totally embarrassed. 

When Eddie finally cracks an eye open, he laughs when he sees Gareth standing in the pool, right at the edge. Arms folded, head resting on them. Staring right at Eddie. Gareth has no shame and doesn’t get embarrassed easily, if ever. 

Just like Steve, honestly.

How he's surrounded himself with these two, he's not exactly sure.

"Whatcha guys been doin'?" Gareth drawls out, like he can't see Steve's bare ass in his face and know exactly what they were doing. 

Gareth's caught them fucking in several countries at this point. This is nothing. It's not even in the top ten most compromising positions he's seen them in. But still. Eddie could do without it, for sure.

Gareth's dog, Bonzo, is prancing around poolside, barking and jumping, just as hyper as his owner.

Steve just shakes his head, leaning over and picking up his discarded Speedo and walks back towards the house, like it’s no big deal to be walking around the backyard, totally naked. It's nothing Gareth hasn't seen before, to be certain. They've all spent far too many years together, in far too many locker rooms. 

Still, Eddie lifts his hips, and gets his trunks back up and securely fastened. He’s not about to get caught naked if he can help it. Unlike Steve, he does have some shame, and doesn’t exactly desire his junk getting featured on TMZ.

Some days, Eddie thinks Steve's just daring them to run dick pics of him. Probably because he knows what he's packing, and nobody in their right mind is gonna give his dick bad press. 

Definitely not Eddie. No way.

Eddie is about to get up, when Bonzo seizes the opportunity for the freed up premium seating, and jumps up onto Eddie’s lap.

Eddie hears the chair give way before he feels it. Soon enough they’re both falling to the ground. It’s a short fall, but Eddie still scrapes his elbow on the concrete and Bonzo shoots him daggers as if this whole mess was Eddie's fault, as the dog darts away from the scene of the crime, and towards the house, trying to catch up with Steve.

Steve clearly saw it happen, and he’s doubled over laughing near the sliding glass doors, still naked, and Eddie really doesn’t find it all that funny. 

“Fuck you, asshole, that hurt!” Eddie yells across the yard as he awkwardly untangles himself from the wreckage. Steve just laughs harder, and as much as Eddie wants to, it’s hard for him to stay mad at Steve.

Eddie gets up and surveys the collapsed heap of vinyl and aluminum. It looks like it's a total loss, and that does make Eddie smile, fully thankful that the chair from hell finally met its overdue end.

He jogs to catch up with Steve, hoping to slide in the shower with him, where Steve will kiss his wounded pride all better, and maybe go for round two. 

Notes: Song is Permanent 99 by Christian Kane. It's not on Spotify, or I'd just embed it. Gareth's dog is Bonzo, after John Bonham. Because I still like to think he's a drummer in this world, and that still plays with Eddie here, too. They just took their focus elsewhere.

This is the kind of chair I'm talking about, which they're still making apparently?! I had no idea.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiemas and follow along!

If you want to see more of my entries from this challenge, they are in my tag right here!

[two-person-job]

💘, ✨, 🍓, 💌, 🐶, 💭 for any 🤍🤍

gasp CUTE PROMPTS THANK U ALEXIS

shroomiya

💘 — what's the closest you've ever gotten to confessing?

during her preparing for the year's summer festival. seeing all her passion for the festival (+ anything else) is one of my favorite things about her, so i was about to abandon all confession plans and tell her right then :)

✨ — describe your crush f/o in your own words!

just.. wowowowowow <3 wow <333 she's so pretty!! and lovely!! and full of beauty and endearing habits!! <333

🍓 — what did they do that first caught your eye?

honestly? i just saw her once and thought she was pretty dhcigcjh (which she is ofc 💖) I spotted her out of the corner of my eye while walking to my home and thought about her the entire way back

💌 — have you ever written love notes/letters to them? what about poetry about them?

oh 100%. I love love love writing letters for her. something that I made that she can keep?? im definitely making her so many she'll have to dedicate a drawer to them. (I'm very much a person of sentimental keepsakes, so I'd also give her more than just letters. like little souvenirs from places we've been together!!)

🐶 — is your crush on them obvious? how do you act around them?

very. but I also act very loving with my close friends so it could be easily covered up by "oh shroom does this with all their friends!!" but if you looked into it, it would be evident that I'm looking too much into how i appear to feel about her so I'd end up being MORE obvious. but yea I'd act very sweet and loving to her and try to cover it up by it just being platonic hcchuchj

💭 — have they ever appeared in your dreams? do you daydream about them often?

irl, I forget most of my dreams so idk xgucguxug. but in universe i would have the occasional dream of her! but yes <3 she does often cross my mind <3 fish and fireworks remind me of her!!!

shroomsym

💘 — what's the closest you've ever gotten to confessing?

ok this requires some context. stress is a part of the game he's from, if you get too much you can't do some things (it goes up to 100). once each time you find sym, eventually you can click an option and he will relieve 5 stress. the way he does this is by putting his forehead on yours. the first time he did this i was so awestruck by him and almost blurted out my feelings (he probably already knew by then fyucguxjgxgj)

✨ — describe your crush f/o in your own words!

he's so.. !!! <3 as dys (another character from the game) would say, "he's more pretty than handsome" he is!! he's very pretty <3

🍓 — what did they do that first caught your eye?

this also requires some context. so you can go exploring in game, and this is how you meet sym. you get a few glimpses of him and I have too much space in my brain for him to fill. he's called a mysterious stranger the first times you see him. how is he supposed to leave my mind after that?

💌 — have you ever written love notes/letters to them? what about poetry about them?

yes but sadly paper to write on is not really a thing in this game hjccvjccjg. HOWEVER!!! it got replaced with digital stuff. 50% of my notes are definitely about him in some way.

🐶 — is your crush on them obvious? how do you act around them?

even more than with yoimiya. he knows. probably before I do. but does he do anything about it? no he'd wait for me to say something, not because he's nervous, but because he'd want to know how I'd confess to him. but I would be VERY flustered around him, especially because there are basically zero times when I'm with sym and someone else (for a while, at least).

💭 — have they ever appeared in your dreams? do you daydream about them often?

irl, same as yoimiya, I forget 99% of my dreams so probably but idk ihccihcuh. but for in universe. being so real. he'd find a way to worm himself into my dreams. which sounds weird but it'd be for us to have a tea party or something fyxguxgux. but yes, I think about him, too <3 purple reminds me of him

[keeksybee]

Rick and Spanish:

I’ve always wondered why he never speaks Spanish, Sanchez is obviously a Spanish name and while I get not using it with the kids or Beth because he actually cares about them understanding him, it’s totally in his character to use it with other Ricks or to piss Jerry off knowing it would drive him crazy to be talked about and have no idea what he was saying.

My main premise to this is I honestly don’t believe Rick is a no sabo kid (nothing wrong with being one BTW) I’ve done the math and if we assume Beth is 34 at the beginning of the series in 2013 (Summer must have been born 1996 when Beth was 17 and Morty would’ve come 3 years later in ‘99) that makes her birth year 1979 and presuming Rick had a slightly more planetary mindset when she was born that makes him 23-26 as was average for having kids back then, making his birth year 1953-1956.

Historically I get Beth not being taught Spanish to avoid discrimination, maybe it wouldn’t have been as bad when she was growing up but If Rick’s parents immigrated during WW2 , just before or after Rick was born or when Rick was a very young child that makes him a first gen immigrants child and while northern states were better, they weren’t great either, he would have very much been subjected to some pretty intense racism that he wouldn’t have wanted for his daughter no matter how much it hurt him to not know part of her own culture.

However I also believe Rick’s defiance streak is probably genetic and like hell he would give up his first language just to assimilate like many children of that generation may have been forced to, it was a thing in immigrant homes in America, particularly South American ones ( I’m not sure where the name Sanchez would be from specifically) where the children were banned from speaking their own languages. He however, was Rick Sanchez and would steadfastly refuse to be ashamed of himself or where he came from. It would have been a massive scandal when he married Dianne in their small town, she was most likely pretty, popular and white, he would have been heavily targeted as the schools wouldn’t have been non segregated for very long by the time he was in high school. Marrying Dianne was probably a very satisfying “Fuck you” to people who’d tormented him.

Which leads to the question why do we never hear him use Spanish. Six seasons and 40 years of heavy drinking and drug use and we never hear him slip once, and it’s not like he doesn’t screw up in other areas, language would be a simpler one. He never switches, never even swears in it, but there has to be something that triggers it.

I always imagined it would be Morty getting mortally wounded in a way that he can’t seemingly fix with what’s available to him. His June-bug is bleeding out in front of him and he can’t do shit, another person he couldn’t save. He breaks down, clutching the limp body his grandson, begging a god he doesn’t believe for the first time since his teens in a desperate mix of Spanish and English to do something, and illogically, when he thinks Morty has died, giving him what he remembers of his last rights knowing that if there’s a God the fact it’s him administering his rights is probably not doing any favours for his Grandson’s eternal soul, but then Morty miraculously coughs up blood.

He coughs up blood, not good but it means he’s alive, he can think now, he can do something, so he does.

Morty survives. Barely. He erases the memory, even he considers it too traumatic for Morty to recall, but he has to live with it, it haunts him, it haunts him in a way he hasn’t felt since his Dianne and Beth were killed in his dimension. That’s when he starts speaking to Morty in Spanish, the occasional “mijo” here, the rarer story about his upbringing there and openly conversing in Spanish with other Ricks in Morty’s presence.

Morty learns almost fluent Spanish in four months just to try and spite him. That’s his June-bug, guess Beth did pass down that competitive spirit, and some of his smarts too. It’s nice talking regularly in his mother tongue again even if he’d never tell Morty that, and it’s adorable when his grandson can’t pronounce something properly, messes up the tense of a word or stumbles in Spanish when he’s pissed off, it reminds him of a little kid. He gently corrects the tense errors under his guise of grumpy, codgery old man, Morty doesn’t even know how much better he gets.

Jerry’s pissed that he now doesn’t understand his father in law or his son, but that’s okay, it’s Jerry.