#but the line I have to walk between 'going too easy and pulling punches'
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Life Hack
Description: Maybe Eddie will finally get the message that you do like him when you show him a little bra life hack.
A/N: what can I say, this was rattling in my head when I showed my partner how to undo a bra one handed and I couldn't help but think of Eddie (because he lives in my brain now and refuses to leave.) If you enjoy it please comment and reblog my sweethearts!
Warnings: NSFW, minor DNI (here there be nipples) fem slightly dom reader, Eddie is an idiot, boob play, dry humping
Masterlist
1.5k words
You walk into Eddie's room with freshly brushed teeth, wearing a stolen t-shirt of his, the Iron Maiden one with the bleach stains that has become your favourite, and some tiny sleep shorts. Eddie's already sprawled on the bed in a pair of pyjama pants, one arm slung under his head, the other holding half a joint over the full ashtray.
Fuck, he isn't making this easy.
His slim toned physique, his tattoos, his happy trail. It's all making your mouth water with anticipation for something that doesn't seem possible. Try as you might to entice him, Eddie's not getting the message. You've been dying for Eddie to take the leap, to move your relationship out of the friendship zone but either he doesn't like you that way or he really is an idiot.
One minute he's flirting, the next he's punching you on the arm and play fighting with you like you're his kid sister or something. It really makes you wonder how he lost his virginity in the first place.
"You want some of this?"
"Huh?" You ask just a little too loudly.
"This," he says, waving the joint at you and smirking.
"Oh, sure, gimme- oh goddamn!" As you reach out you feel a twang and a pain digging into your side.
"What the hell just happened?" Eddie asks, looking confused.
"It's nothing Eds, just my bra rebelling" you laugh, wriggling uncomfortably.
"You can, erm, take it off… you know, if it makes you more comfortable." He's blushing, you swear you see his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. Maybe he does like you? The thought places your heart firmly in your throat.
Reaching behind you, you expertly flick your bra open and start manoeuvring the shirt sleeves so you can take it off. Eddie's jaw may as well be on the floor, eyes bugging out like a cartoon.
"It's undone? Just like that?"
You laugh at the face he's pulling, until you have a light bulb moment.
"Do you want me to teach you?"
"What?" If Eddie's eyes could get wider, they somehow do, taking over his face like an anime character.
"I could teach you how to do it, if you want. It's like a life hack, you know? I really don't mind."
Eddie looks in turmoil for a minute. Maybe you crossed a line. Until you hear his response.
"Oh, erm… OK?"
Reaching around to clip your bra back in place, you wriggle everything in position.
"Give me some of that first" you say, wiggling your fingers at him. He wordlessly passes the joint to you and you take a deep drag, blowing smoke upwards. It helps to calm your nerves a little. Taking another, blowing smoke, and passing it back to him, he takes it to finish it off, stubbing it out in the ashtray. He looks panicked, moving the ashtray off of the bed, clearing the bed of debris, like this was going to be some complicated mission.
Right, it's now or never. Maybe he'll finally get the fucking hint.
Taking a deep breath, you grab the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head. The bra is nothing special really, just a black cotton one, tiny bow situated between your breasts.
Eddie's mouth opens and closes at the sight, gaping like a moron at your exposed cleavage. Moving over to the bed, you straddle him, backwards.
"Right, so if you look, it's real easy." You move one hand behind your back, pushing your thumb into the hook part, and flick the bra undone with your index finger. You're not sure if you hear a gasp or if you're just imagining it.
"See? Easy." You clip it back into position and risk a glance over your shoulder. Eddie's face is glowing scarlet. It's the only sign he's giving you, so you're willing to take it as a good one.
"Wanna try?"
"Yeah-" his voice starts, impossibly high pitched, until he coughs and continues, much lower, "-Sure thing."
You feel one hand at your hip, on your exposed skin. The touch you've been craving. It shoots to your core unexpectedly, making you so grateful Eddie can't see your face right now. The other hand starts shakily fumbling with the catch until he gets it.
"See? Simple. OK," you do it back up, and swivel around, your heat pressed against him. The feel of him underneath you has your head reeling, imagining all sorts of depraved situations, but you reign it in.
"You wanna try from this way?"
"Uh huh." He's responding, but his eyes are glued to your chest.
"Eddie…?"
Snapping his head up, he almost looks guilty.
"Yeah, sure."
"So, sit up a bit, reach around." You beckon him with your fingers so he pulls himself upright, face suddenly so close to yours you feel his breath on your cheek.
"So… thumb and forefinger, yeah?"
Eddie's eyes dart to your lips and back up.
"Yeah." He reaches, pulling you close for a minute, forcing air out of your lungs. Maybe this was a bad idea. It's getting difficult to breathe. Trying to calm yourself, you settle for staring at Eddie's ear.
He's fumbling, but after a while he gets it. You feel the sudden free feeling. He looks up at you with his eyes all lit up like a dog that just learned a new trick.
"I did it!"
"Sure did. You wanna practise again?"
"Yeah sure."
Once again, you put it back in position. This time, Eddie barely fumbles and flicks it off in one fluid motion.
"See? Easy! Well done!" Genuinely pleased that you actually taught the boy something, you look him in the eyes for the first time since you decided to make this risky move.
His usually beautiful amber brown eyes are dark, dipped in desire. He's breathing heavy, large palms coming to rest on your waist. But he's still not making a move.
Fuck it.
"You wanna see them?" You ask, praying you're reading him right.
"...did you just say… what I think you just did?"
You slowly slip the straps down your arms and peel the bra off, dropping it to the side. Your nipples, happy to be finally free, perk up at the air around them. Goosebumps run over your exposed flesh.
"Holyfuckingshit!"
It comes out in one breath. Eddie's gawking gaze darts between your naked breasts; awe, shock and panic are fighting for dominance in his eyes.
"Eddie."
No response.
"Eddie!"
"Huh?"
You cradle his jaw with one hand and his eyes finally look at you. Unable to wait for a second longer, you press your lips against his.
It's like a switch is finally flipped in Eddie's brain. He pushes his tongue in your mouth immediately, swiping at yours with such urgency it shocks you. His hand is pushing into the small of your back, guiding you to grind over the hard bulge in his pants.
The other hand finds your breast, squeezing at it. His thumb runs over your nibble, flicking at the hardened nub, sending tingles through your nerves and up your spine.
When he breaks from your kiss and starts mouthing at your neck, you tell him finally, words spilling from slick, kiss bitten lips.
"I was wondering when you'd get the fucking message Eddie."
You run your fingernails through his hair making him groan into your neck.
"The hell," he breathes, mouth dragging down to your chest, "didn't think you, you liked me like that."
"You're a fucking idiot Eds, been trying to flirt with you for weeks- oh God!"
His tongue starts running around your nipple, shocking you out of your reprimand. Moans replace words as he sucks at your nipple, making you rub against him faster. Your clit is begging for more attention and Eddie's happy to oblige, forcing you against him, hard.
The friction is building up; body buzzing with desire all the way to the tips of your toes. Eddie's desperately tonguing at your nipple, breath whistling through his nose hotly as he's whining in his throat.
"Eddie, fuck, I'm gonna come!" You're gripping his biceps urgently, rocking against him with all the power you have. Your warning just pushes him further, sucking at your skin and moaning with you.
Your release flows from you in an intense flash of white light as your fingernails dig into Eddie, holding on for all your worth, chest heaving with heavy pants.
Eddie groans just as loudly as you as your hips finally stutter to a halt. He looks like he's had a religious experience, staring at you with hearts in his eyes.
"Eds, did you just cum-"
"Yup," he says, popping the P loudly, looking almost proud. His grin is reaching almost from ear to ear. This version of Eddie, the idiot, the one you fell for, is in front of you again.
"So, you do like me then?"
"Sweetheart, I think you're incredible, I just didn't think you saw me like that." He says, hands rubbing up and down your sides.
"You're really stupid Eddie."
"You're probably right" He smiles, eyes glancing back down to your chest.
"So, do I get to see the rest?"
No real tag list, just adding some likely people ;)
@lunatictardis @lightvixxen @roanniom @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @eddiesprincess86 @munson-blurbs @wroteclassicaly @loveshotzz
#ms gexy writes#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie x you#eddie munson fanfic#idiot!eddie#eddie x fem!reader#eddie x female reader#eddie munson stranger things#stranger things au#stranger things fanfiction#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanart#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson imagines#eddie munson imagine
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Hey saffy lemur... could you maybe do a scenario for the 141 and König and reader? Where they each have their first kiss with them and what the kiss is like? I love your writing you're so good at fluff,! If you don't want to it's okay, thanks!
Thank you so much! I hope this is what you were looking for❤️😊
141 + König x Reader's First Kiss
Warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, sexual references
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Simon Ghost Riley-
Your first kiss with Simon was sweet. After months of mutual pining, he'd finally mustered the courage to ask you out on a date.
He took you to a small cafe, where it wouldn't be too busy. He was a perfect gentleman the whole date, and you couldn't be any more enamored with him because of it.
He'd shown you a whole new side of him tonight, one that he hadn't shown anyone in years. He'd had his fair share of flings and one night stands, but you were different. Something about you made him want something more. Something real.
He'd walked you up to your doorstep later that night, after your date had ended. "I had a nice night Y/N, thank you." He said as he leaned against your door.
"Me too, Simon. I really hope we can do this again. It was nice getting to know the man behind the mask. I quite like him." You smiled warmly up at him.
Simon felt butterflies in his stomach from the way you were looking at him. Nobody's looked at him like that in years.
He looked deeply in your eyes before leaning down to slot his lips against yours. The kiss was nothing short of perfect. His lips had felt so soft against yours.
His finger rested under your chin, pulling your head up toward him more so he could deepen the kiss. Pulling away slowly after a few moments, he smiled down at you before placing a kiss on your forehead.
"I'll see you soon, yeah?" He asked, hopeful. The kiss solidified what he knew he felt inside. He was falling for you, and falling hard.
Johnny Soap MacTavish-
Your first kiss with Johnny was unexpected. The two of you had been friends for years. You had a friendship filled with relentless teasing, late nights gossiping, and lingering touches.
You were out with him late at night at a bar close to base. The two of you wanted to let loose, and ended up having one too many.
At one point during the night, you found yourself staring at Johnny. He was licking his chapped lips all night, and it was driving you crazy. You'd always harbored feelings for the Scot, and it certainly didn't help you were undeniably attracted to him either.
"Need some chapstick?" You teased, catching Johnny's attention. He turned his gaze away from the game on TV and looked at you with a smirk.
"Think I may need more than just chapstick, darlin." He sent you a sly wink.
You stifled a giggle at his reply. "Was that supposed to be a pickup line? That was awful, Johnny."
Johnny would be sure to blame it on the drinks later, but your little giggle had done something to him in that moment. Ignoring any doubts he had in his mind, he leaned forward and crashed his lips onto yours.
The kiss was heated, and messy. Both of you being under the influence of alcohol certainly didn't make for a very romantic kiss. There was teeth clashing, tongue and a mix of saliva all at once. But you weren't complaining, and neither was he.
"Fuck me." He pulled away, with a darkness to his eyes that wasn't there before. "Let's get out of here, yeah?"
You nodded your head, and let Johnny lead the way to a night neither of you would forget.
Price-
Your first kiss with Price was rough. The amount of sexual/romantic tension between the two of you was palpable, and had been since you'd joined his task force.
You'd needed help with some defense techniques and had asked if he'd be willing to spar with you to help out.
You'd been sparring with him for the last 20 minutes and were working up quite the sweat. Price wasn't one to go easy on you, and you'd narrowly missed being punched a handful of times.
You'd lost your footing as you tried to deflect his latest punch unsuccessfully, causing you and John to go tumbling to the ground. He held his arms out on either side of you to prevent himself from falling on top of you.
Trying to catch your breath from the physical exertion, you looked up to find Price already looking down at you. His gaze had flitted down to your lips and back up to your eyes.
You swallowed thickly, unsure of what his next move was going to be. He gave a small smirk before leaning down to connect your lips with his.
The kiss was bruising. Like in your spar session, Price didn't hold himself back when kissing you either. His lips were rough, and the kiss was anything but soft.
"I think I won that spar, yeah?" He asked, pulling away. "Now it's time to claim my prize."
Gaz-
Your first kiss with Gaz was playful. You and him were playing Mario Kart at your flat, and things were getting tense. Each of you were self proclaimed masters at the game and decided to do a ten round game to see who was the ultimate winner.
The two of you were sitting side by side, deeply concentrating on the game. This was the last round of the match, and you and Gaz were neck and neck, the winner being decided by this match.
It was the last lap, and Gaz was right on your tail. At the last minute, he had gotten a red shell to use on you, which allowed him to push past you and win the race.
"AHH! DID YOU SEE THAT? I WON, I WON!" Gaz cried out, flinging his arms in the air, sending the controller flying.
You laughed at his enthusiasm and were about to say something before he cut you off with a fierce kiss.
You and Gaz had been friends for a while. Both of you were close and found yourselves in each other's company. You'd always had a small attraction to the man, but never vocalize your feelings.
Your mind was hazy as you tried to grasp what was happening. You'd sat frozen as he kissed you, unable to move.
He pulled away with wide eyes. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I should've asked, was so."
You cut him off by placing your lips against his. He immediately reciprocated, pushing you backward into the couch.
"Shit, can I get kissed like this every time I win?"
König-
König's and your first kiss was timid. You'd been on a few dates together, never ending with the kiss you'd wanted so badly from him.
You knew of his anxieties, though. You knew better than to push him into something he wasn't comfortable with. So you waited patiently for him to make his move.
The two of you were on a picnic date, at a little lake by your house. The date was quiet, but sweet. König had told you some childhood stories, in exchange for a few of your own.
As the two of you finished your sandwiches, a comfortable silence fell over you. Both of you often looking at each other, exchanging warm glances.
At one point, he turned to you with a small smile and cleared his throat. "Maus….may I… may I kiss you?"
You nodded your head with a smile and waited for König to make a move. He leaned in slowly and placed his lips on yours softly, almost as if he'd break you if he'd put any more pressure.
He pulled away only a second later, a light pink dusting his cheeks. "I.. I hope that was alright for you."
"That was perfect Kö.. could I…maybe get another?" You asked, your own cheeks now turning pink.
König felt his heart flutter, and gladly leaned back in to capture your lips in his once more. This time, kissing you with just a bit more fervor than before.
König could get used to this, this domestic bliss. You were starting to show him slowly but surely that the man beneath the mask was worth loving.
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A/N: Thanks for reading!!!❤️😊
#cod imagine#simon riley imagine#mw2 imagine#ghost x reader#ghost mw2#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#konig x reader#konig imagine#konig mw2#mw2 x reader#captain price#price imagine#price mw2#soap imagine#soap x reader#soap mctavish#soap mw2#gaz imagine#gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick
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every morning i check my knees for blood; i must have crawled back to you a thousand times while i slept.
tz11 x reader: in which you’ve been here before (part two to make him you)
(warnings: blasphemous filth, oral sex (f on m), penetrative sex (m on f), choking (guess who’s back?), hair pulling (hell yeah), spanking (refusing to cringe), degradation, praise, idk like he licks your tears? crawling? crazy shit?, toxic relationship, obviously dirty talk (give the people what they want) please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)
(long a/n: dramatic swan song aside, turns out i’m not done yet. so here i am, because some lovely people reminded me that i can be here. and if i’m not writing, who will put choking in every story? who will treat jack as a fictional punching bag? i have a purpose here, witches. you don’t need to be reminded that trevor is for sure not capable of this, but i’ll remind you anyway. maybe it will inspire the ducks to win, perhaps. yeah, right. they’re tanking so they’ll get that boy in the draft. anyways, didn’t check for typos. obviously be kind. i’ve got more stuff coming. thanks for reviving me. the wicked never die. we live in the cracks of gravestones and in between the lines of explicit fanfiction. enjoy. see you soon.)
you truly, genuinely, held off as long as you could. to be fair to jack, sure, but also to be fair to yourself. trevor wasn’t good for you, you weren’t good for trevor, but you were inevitable, like some worldly truth in a language only you two understood.
you kept jack around as long as you could stomach, but eventually it became impossible to see him as anything other than a vacant mirror, cracked just enough to make you realize he wasn’t trevor, and you couldn’t glue his pieces together to make him trevor. it wasn’t fair to either of you, so you ended it.
and, inevitably, you knew exactly who to search out to put your own pieces back together.
thankfully, tonight, as soon as you made eye contact with him across the room, you knew how tonight would end, because you had decided it would end that way.
so why would you rush it? you drank a bit, caught up with friends, spent most of the night dancing.
and at some point, you felt a pair of hands squeeze your hips, a grip you would recognize no matter how many times you had tried to forget. he clasped his hands in front of you, swayed with you while pressing his front into your back.
you shivered at the sensation of his breath on your collarbone, settling there like a heavy fog over a dark lake. you slid a hand up into his hair, still swaying, faced away from him, gently traced your nails across his neck.
“you miss me, sugar?” he rasped into your ear. you turned to face him, looped both arms around his neck, felt his crossed arms rest on the lower curve of your back.
you looked up at him, searched his eyes for something specific and found it in spades. “so what if i did?”
he smirked, pulled you closer, leaned down to your ear. “you ready to be mine again?”
he knew your answer before you had even bit your lip and nodded, wasted no time in pulling you to a private room with a searing grip on your wrist, an all-too-welcome cuff.
he pushed you up against the inside of the door, reached a hand around you to lock it. you raised a brow, to which he unexpectedly kissed your cheekbone, then traced where his lips had been with his thumb. “just you and me this time, sugar.”
his sweetness ended there, as he turned and walked to the foot of the bed, leisurely sat on the edge. you made to follow, but he stopped you with a “tsk” noise. you stilled. “you know better,” he drawled, eyes alight. and you did. you knew it wouldn’t be so easy. he wouldn’t let it be. and wasn’t that what you had craved to begin with?
he leaned back, resting his weight on his elbows, legs spread wide. he gave a slight, awaiting nod. “go on, sugar,” he said, “show me what’s mine.” his gaze was patent as he began to palm his cock.
you took a deep breath before you began to slowly undress. moving your hands at a tantalizing pace, like any fast movement might set off an explosion. the air was charged enough for it. you soaked in his attention, his longing. he groaned when you revealed your bare chest to him, something guttural escaped him when you were finally and completely exposed.
you could see how hard he was, could all but taste his mouth, could practically feel his cock in your hand, inside of you. you waited patiently for a tell of what to do next.
“hm, all for me, sugar?” he rasped. you made a sound in assent. “c’m here,” he said, “won’t make you wait any longer.”
his gaze coated you as you moved. he shook his head. “no,” he corrected, “crawl.”
you ran your tongue along the inside of your teeth, reluctant. “don’t be bad for my benefit,” he said, “or i won’t let you cum.” amusement lit up his face. “and we both know you’re too desperate for that.”
that was enough. you dropped to your hands and knees, stomach fluttering at the heat his eyes immediately became saturated with. you became acutely aware of just how wet you were as you crawled to him, settled in between his legs, relished in his groans.
“go on,” he said as you rested your elbows on his knees, “take what’s yours.” you immediately pulled him out, hot and thick in your palm, winced beautifully as his grip tangled itself in your hair. you pumped him up and down before taking him in your mouth, felt your stomach flutter again at his moans.
he cocked his head back at the familiar feeling of you, one he couldn’t find anywhere else. he pulled your hair harder, smirked as you moaned around him, forced you deeper.
“love my cock in your mouth, don’t you, sugar?” you hummed in response. “yeah? love when i fuck your throat, yeah?” he pushed your head down until you gagged, then snapped his hips up and back. you held your jaw open and let him. let him reach the back of your throat, take what he could from you.
he groaned from his stomach, you watched it flex and tense in a tell that he was close. you braced yourself for his finish, but he suddenly stopped and pulled you off of him by your hair. you caught your breath, smiled, noticed your face had become damp with stray tears at his force.
“aw, sugar, these for me?” he cooed, running a thumb across your cheek before bringing it to his lips and enveloping it in his mouth. he smirked. “tastes like you.” you smiled. “c’mon, give me a kiss.” a language only you two spoke. this is your worldly truth. this is the only truth.
he pulled you up to his level, grasped the side of your face in a hand as your lips met. you snaked a hand into his hair and tugged lightly at the long strands, bit softly at his bottom lip, smiled into his mouth when he moaned. you pushed his chest forward until he was resting on his elbows, leaning back again. you placed one knee on the outside of each of his hips.
his laugh sent a shiver down your spine. “aw, sugar thinks she’s in charge,” his expression was pitiful. “you forget yourself already? it’s only been a couple weeks.” in a swift, fluid motion, he wrapped an arm under your thigh and spun you until your cheek was pressed into the bed, your hips lifted up into the air. “you forget about me, hm, sugar?”
“no,” you tried, “wanted to, trevor, couldn’t.” he slapped a hand across your ass, smiled at your whimper.
“thought so,” he murmured smugly, dragging two fingers through your folds before slapping your ass again. “love those pretty noises you make.” he thrust into you abruptly, chest rumbled as you squeezed him. “now scream like the slut you are for me.”
you complied, moaning loudly as he thrust in and out of you at a brutal pace, one hand’s grip digging into the flesh at your hip, the other wrapping around your throat and pulling your head up off of the bed. your vision swam deliciously.
“poor sugar,” he grunted, accentuating his pace and force, “such a needy slut and no one can fuck her right but me.” he squeezed your neck a bit tighter. “isn’t that right?”
you moaned, nodded, to which he laughed. “you can do better than that.” he let go of your throat and brought a hand down to just barely ghost over your clit. “tell me, sugar, or i won’t let you cum.”
you summoned the words in desperation. “no one can fuck me like you, trevor,” you whined, “wanted you so bad, pretended he was you every time.”
you could picture his cocky smile as he finally indulged you, carefully rubbed circles on your clit. “always tell me just what i want to hear, sugar.”
you moaned, clenched around him. the corner of your mouth ticked up at the growl-like noise he released.
“that hungry for my cum, are you, slut?” he rubbed you faster, thrust harder. “tryna milk me for all i’m worth, yeah?”
you whined, felt yourself grow impossibly closer. “cum, then, sugar. waited long enough.”
he kept his pace and rhythm, moved the hand that had been squeezing your hip to your lower stomach, pressing up, knowing exactly how your back would arch, how your head would roll back, how your eyes would flutter shut, how you would grip him tight and gush around him, moan out his name.
just as you knew how his pressure on your stomach would increase, how his hips would stutter, how his other arm would come to wrap around your waist, hold you to him as he came, groaning deeply.
like some kind of beautiful clockwork, everything played out exactly as you wanted, as he wanted, because you both had decided it would.
except this time, he didn’t walk away right after you fell back on the bed, breaths heavy. he pulled you to him, kissed your cheekbone again.
no one had to say anything. you both knew. that undeniable truth sat between you: that as much as you were his, he was yours, just as truly.
and didn’t you both know it.
fin.
#hockey#hockey smut#nhl#nhl smut#smut#trevor zegras#trevor zegras smut#trevor zegras x reader#jack hughes#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes smut#anaheim ducks#quinn hughes#auston matthews
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{🧡Silence in Darkness🧡}
Trigger Warnings: Attempted assault and rape. I know people who have gone through this and experienced it further sadly. My heart goes out to victims of assault and rape and I hope justice goes in your favor.
After meeting the turtles, reader was wrapped into their world and way of life quickly. A main reason being that talking wasn't easy for her. Their first meeting was after Mikey had fallen off a building and into a dumpster. Reader had been drawing in her sketchbook and heard the noise through her headphones. Sitting on the edge of her fire escape looking out to the city, getting inspiration from the colorful lights.
Taking off her headphones and looking over the fence to see what happened, Mikey was looking up laying on his shell in the dumpster with his legs hanging out. Obviously being too big to fit completely. Reader paused her music and rushed down to check on him. Freaking out over the fact he was a giant mutant turtle quietly in her head. His brothers came down quickly, making sure she wasn't going to take a picture or try to expose them, then realizing she wanted to get close to Mikey.
Donnie had checked his brother and then reader did the same. Pulling out some gum from her pocket, and offering some to the orange-clad turtle. Once doing the same to the three other mutants, they tried to talk her out of telling someone. When she only nodded and didn't respond, Donnie had come to the assumption she was mute.
"We should get going now, have a good night, um-" he paused waiting for her to at least give them some sort of title to her person.
"Reader." the turtles nodded and began to leave. Mikey had stayed behind and asked for her number then put her name as 'Mouse 🐭' on his phone. For shits and giggles, she put him under 'Turtle with Orange zazz'. Since then they've been close, but not enough for her to talk vocally.
She would either respond with head movements, or writing, and sometimes facial expressions. Mikey was the most persistent, why wouldn't he? Outgoing extroverts always love to make shy introverts come out of their comfort zone to make something bright of themselves that shows others they're more than a stereotypical quiet kid.
Music had also become a way of interaction between the quartet and small human. While reader had a variety of preferences, they weren't picky, so they bonded with each of the turtles over their music. Mikey was a hiphop guy, while Leo loved Metal and Raph preferred classic Rock like David Bowie, Queen, Metallica, and Joan Jett. Donnie was more indie than any of them, but occasionally listened to rap while experimenting on side projects.
Reader would sometimes stay the night a couple months after meeting and tonight was one of those nights. Some would say sleeping on the couch was uncomfortable, especially the couch the turtles had. Reader would disagree, it was more comfortable than her bed back home. For what reason? She didn't know, and didn't need to know. However, tonight she felt restless and couldn't go to bed. On impulsive thoughts, she decided to walk near the pier and take a breather. Not knowing Mikey was following from the rooftops.
He had gotten up to go get some water when he saw her walking out of the lair with her red and gray-lined jumper Raph had given her for her birthday. Being the chivalrous turtle that he was, he went to make sure she was safe. So far everything was good, and Mikey was just admiring her from afar. While also being a good friend and ready to step-in if need. She may be shy but that didn't mean she couldn't fight.
Just then a guy wearing a gray hoodie had stopped her to talk. Getting a nervous feeling, Mikey got his weapons ready, even though he most likely wouldn't need them.
"Hey little lady, whatcha' doin' out here?"
"Walking." Vague and simple, almost always gets the guy to lose interest. Sadly this guy wasn't right in the head and pushed her against the railing putting a hand on her neck. She punched him on the sides making him belch in pain. She tried running back to the lair but the guy ended up tripping her and got on top of her. Holding her arms with one hand and the other heading towards her pants.
Suddenly getting kicked into the railing and ended up falling down to the beach below. Reader got up to look over and saw the guy knocked out. Or dead? Who knows, he was off of her and that's what mattered. Finally noticing the giant shadow next to her, she turned and took Mikeys' appearance in. Still a bit shaken from the experience she took some deep breaths making Mikey look at her.
"You okay?" she nodded in response. Mikey didn't expect her to talk, not after that. He put a hand on her back and guided her lightly to the direction back to the lair. While in the alley heading to a sewer grate, she gained some strength in her voice to talk.
"Thanks for that." Mikey paused for a sec then continued while smiling.
"Just doing the right thing. You can always count on me you know?" he asked, though it sounded more of a statement then anything. She nodded and waited for the grate to be opened.
"Really though, I think I might need more training. Wanna help?"
"Sure, anything to spend time with my favorite human. Don't tell April." reader laughed lightly and made her way down the ladder.
"My lips are sealed." The rest of the way they held a conversation. Once arriving they said goodnight and the next morning they were talking to each other first thing. The others confused on what had happened for this to be the result, didn't question it vocally until reader left the lair to get ready for work at the bakery.
Mikey only said they took a walk last night and bonded. Call it what you will, but Mikey was glad she came out her shell in the right way after that experience. He'd hurt or kill anyone who tried that again.
#bay tmnt#bayverse tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles 2014#teenage mutant ninja turtles 2016#tmnt#bayverse turtles#bayverse tmnt fanfic#tmnt 2016#tmnt 2014#bayverse mikey#bayverse mikey x reader#tmnt fanfic#tmnt oots#tmnt out of the shadows
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I Will Rescue You (NewtxReader)
Based around the song "Rescue" by Lauren Daigle. Specifically the lines "I will send out an army to find you in the middle of the darkest night it's true I will rescue you. I will never stop marching to reach you in the middle of the hardest fight it's true I will rescue you."
Being a runner wasn't an easy task, everyone knew it. It was the most challenging job of all, the most physically straining, and downright most terrifying. So when the glade's strongest, fastest runner ends up trapped inside for a night, most give up hope.
There was no telling how it happened, but while running the maze one afternoon, Minho and Y/n separated. Minho searched for as long as he could, returning to the glade just minutes before the doors closed. He comes out tired and weak, falling to his knees and panting. Alby and Newt come over as fast as they can, followed by Thomas, Frypan, Winston, and Gally. Minho was immediately bombarded with questions from his friends, most asking about you.
"Where is she Minho?" Newt spoke through gritted teeth, his eyes darting between his friend and the walls of the maze, waiting eagerly for you to appear.
"We got separated," Minho spoke, taking Alby's offered hand and standing up. Just three words, that was all it took for Newt to step cautiously towards the maze, threatening with every small step to run into the maze to find you. Alby, noticing the boy's intentions took the second-in-command's wrist, pulling him back towards the group a bit.
"She's going to die out there Alby," Newt spoke, his voice wavering. "I have to go get her"
"If you leave you'll die too. Just have faith, Newt" Alby spoke, clearly and calmly. Clearly, he wasn't understanding the gravity of the situation as the wind blew through the maze and out into the glade, blowing Newt's hair back and out of his face.
The group's panic grew quickly as they realized you were not rounding the corner just in time, being effortlessly flawless as usual. In fact, there was no sign of you anywhere. How was this possible? You had the maze perfectly memorized for years. Of all people, you were the least likely to get lost.
Newt tries to pull away from Alby as the doors start closing, the giant concrete slabs moving slowly, but causing even more fear to surface in the blonde's eyes.
Finally, you round the corner from the right, causing Newt's eyes to perk up. But it leaves quickly as he realizes that you're moving slowly, limping and clutching your stomach. It doesn't help that you're looking at him with desperate eyes, practically begging him to help you. The walls are even closer to closing, and there is no denying that you will not make it in time. Some of the gladers are yelling, encouraging you to keep going and to have confidence.
Newt, however, is trying desperately to free himself from Alby and Minho's grip, which is the only thing keeping him from trapping himself inside the maze too.
Finally, you give up, falling to your knees and smiling sadly at Newt, still clutching your stomach. You calmly accept defeat as the doors shut, allowing yourself one last look at Newt before being swallowed in fear.
Meanwhile, in the glade, Newt is screaming at Alby and Minho, pushing them around in front of the closed doors.
"I could have helped her! We both could have made it!" He screams, pushing Minho back as hard as he could, only causing a stumble back towards the tall, well-built, boy.
"And what if you both got stuck? What then? Huh, Newt?" Alby yells, scoffing and turning away from his friend to walk away.
"She belongs to the maze now" He spoke once more, causing an uproar of anger in the blonde boy. But instead of taking it out on his friends, he turns and punches the maze door as hard as he can, causing his hand to nearly break. He falls to his knees with a heavy sob, the weight, and desperation he feels finally becoming apparent to the group. Some cry, some look down in defeat, and others just shake their heads.
Finally, they all leave Newt to his grief, glancing back as they walk away to see him holding his chest with heaving sobs, his forehead nearly touching the grass as he sits on his legs.
After a few minutes of helpless crying, he finally lays his back against the cold concrete, lays his head against it, and closes his eyes, his arms resting on his knees which are propped up in front of him. The person he mourns for sits in a similar position, just mere feet away but separated by so much distance.
You cry quietly, tears escaping your eyes and sliding down your face as you hold your knees close to your chest. Your backpack lies next to you, begging for you to pick it up and start running, to make any effort to stay alive through the night just as Thomas, Minho, and Alby once did.
Suddenly, you hear soft, but audible words from through the small crack left between the doors of the maze. The familiar voice sends comfort through you, allowing you to finally let the weight and fear of being trapped in the maze sizzle out for a moment.
"I will send out an army to find you, in the middle of the darkest night," Newt speaks, his voice cold and shaken.
"It's true, I will rescue you" He speaks once more, assuring himself that he WILL get you back, even if he can't run to your side.
Meanwhile, you smile softly and touch your hand against the cold walls of the maze, sending a message back through the crack to let Newt know you can hear him.
"I will never stop marching to reach you, in the middle of the hardest fight," You speak, causing the boy on the other side to turn his whole body around due to the sound.
"It's true, I will rescue you" You repeat after him, closing your eyes before standing and picking up your backpack, newfound confidence surging through you. If Newt needs you, you are going to come back to him, no matter what it takes.
He smiles through more tears, standing up himself and hearing footsteps slowly growing further away from the other side of the concrete. He closes one eye and peers through the crack just in time to see you running around a corner, a slight limp causing you to be slower than usual. Newt chuckles through tears, his confidence growing with yours.
================================================
That night, Newt slept at the maze doors, covered by a blanket Minho later brought to him during the night. Alby also occasionally checked on him, making sure nothing bad occurred while he slept as close as possible to where you would return if you had survived your night in the maze.
As he woke, Newt's worry returned to him, and he stood up quickly. His eyes studied the maze doors as he desperately waited for them to open, hope clinging to him as he imagined what could have happened to you out there. Other gladers began joining him, waking with the rising sun and returning to the spot where they learned you had been doomed.
Minho was the first to arrive, standing by Newt's side to reassure him as best he could. After that came Alby, the leader, the man in charge. The rest meant nothing to Newt, all he needed was his two friends beside him as he waited to learn your fate.
Meanwhile, you ran through the maze, relieved to have shaken off the two grievers that had been after you all night. You twisted around every turn, knowing exactly where you were headed. As you neared your destination you heard the doors opening and slowed to a stop in front of the concrete entrance to the maze.
You smiled, standing with relief as the doors opened and revealed the one person whose words kept you going through the night you were trapped in the maze. Newt also felt a smile of pure joy and excitement dance on his lips as he saw you standing at the threshold of the maze.
Finally, after an entire night of worry and separation, you ran into Newt's arms and allowed yourself to rest.
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to you alone
emile / estinien - 2k words
endwalker spoilers, set after msq quest the color of joy
It’s difficult, with Estinien this close, to think anything other than, What are we doing?
The moon sets early.
Emile only notices because he keeps glancing at the window, watching the light pass through and fade as the evening stretches on. He’d expected a quiet night alone upon their return to Sharlayan, but the simple happiness of his friends surrounding him surpasses any desire for solitude. He’d always prefer to watch Alisaie joke around with Raha, their happy chatter filling the spaces in between bites of food. Alphinaud sips at his tea across from Emile, and it reminds him of all the places he’s seen the same sight: the Rising Stones, the Fortemps Manor, the Crystarium.
Krile watches with the same kind of amusement, something borne of recognizing peace while it lasts. Emile feels its warmth in his chest, and he lets himself savor the moment as he sips his own cup of tea. It would be perfect, if only for one thing—
“Lest you wonder, we’d invited Estinien as well,” Alphinaud offers, but his impression of him does little to settle the unease that stirs in Emile’s chest. Neither does Krile’s designation of Lone Wolf.
He works up a smile in response—some part of him wishes it was that simple.
The problem is, they were alone together in Radz-at-Han. They were alone for the first time since they sailed to Sharlayan, and it was too easy to fall back into it. Just you and me, then—Emile pestered him to play tour guide until he gave in, and for a moment it felt like they could just be themselves, walking through the busy markets, taking in the sights, Estinien pointing out the different foods he’s tried.
They were nearly separated at one point walking through the crowd, but Estinien reached out and placed a hand on Emile’s lower back—a single tether between them, and Emile swears he can still feel his touch.
Whatever is changing between them may be quiet, but it is hard to ignore.
Perhaps that’s what makes Estinien’s absence even more noticeable. Emile knows him so well but he doesn't know about this, and though it feels like the wrong time to be asking the question, he doesn’t know if it can wait.
For now he settles into the comfort of having his friends surround him, letting himself enjoy this brief moment of respite. It’s after they leave, when he still can’t let it go from his mind, that he realizes that he needs to find him. He climbs out the window and carefully picks his way over the ledge, blowing out a frustrated breath at Estinien’s penchant for heights as he pulls himself up to the roof.
Of course Estinien is there. He sits on the far edge, his back to Emile as he looks out at the harbor. Starlight coats over him, a blue echo above the golden glow of lanterns on the street below. Emile freezes for a moment, the cold night air pulling at his shirt as he watches him, and he has to swallow back the affection that rises up his throat.
“I thought I might find you here,” he murmurs when he crosses the distance between them. Estinien doesn’t look at him, but he angles his head towards him, his hair now bound and exposing the line of his ear down to his jaw, a sharp curve cut from light. It exposes his neck, revealing pale skin that Emile can’t let himself look at for too long. Instead, he takes a deep breath and sits beside him. “You missed dinner.”
In the absence of an immediate response, the silence of the night is dotted only by the distant sounds of movement in the harbor, voices carrying from the paths below them, but then comes Estinien’s deep voice: “I needed a moment to think.”
“Oh,” Emile says, and the uncertainty he’d been feeling gives way to doubt. It punches through him, and he swallows hard. “If you’d like to be alone, I don’t mind—”
“‘Tis all right.”
He leaves it at that, and as many times as they’ve sat in shared silence, Emile doesn’t know if it’s ever felt uncomfortable. Maybe he’s overthinking it, but Estinien still just stares at the view before them, and Emile follows his gaze, wishing he’d remembered to bring his cloak—though he doubts that he would’ve kept it for himself, anyway.
The chill of the night freezes the air itself, and stray snowflakes drift around them despite the clear sky. Emile’s eyes linger on the stars for a moment, at the skewed shapes of the constellations he knows by heart, and then he looks out at the water. The ocean blurs deep blue into black, a distant push and pull that sinks towards the horizon until it disappears entirely.
His skin itches as he tries to think of what to say, but how do you talk about something like this? Estinien seems lost in his own thoughts, still leaving Emile with only his profile lined in ghostly white, and it wears on so long that it feels like it passes them entirely.
“Estinien,” he says, his voice so much quieter this time. “I don’t mean to intrude. You merely have to say the word and I’ll go, I promise I won’t take offense.”
But the sharp cut of Estinien’s gaze finally turns to him, intent and steeled with resolve. Emile wants to understand but he feels overwhelmed by the way their eyes meet, and he realizes that for the first time since they were on that damned ship, they’re truly alone.
“Stay,” Estinien says. “Please.”
It leaves no room for question, and neither of them look away. It brings Emile back to that place they were those last few nights they had together, and he feels his heart pick up a beat, wanting only that closeness again. He swallows the desire back, clearing his throat as he searches his mind for something to say. It’s difficult, with Estinien this close, to think anything other than, What are we doing?
It’s in his eyes, shining silver in the stars’ reflection. He always looks beautiful in this light, which is when Emile knows him best, where they have found each other again and again, and that has to mean something, doesn’t it? There has to be a simple answer, here.
“Do you—,” he starts, but hesitates. Do you want to talk about it? he was going to ask, but it sounds so foolish in his head. “What were you thinking about?”
Estinien is quiet for a long time, but then comes a single word: “You.”
“Me?” he repeats. “Why?”
Estinien’s brows dip down at the center. “Do you truly need to ask?”
When Emile thinks about it, he supposes he doesn’t. In his mind, he sees the two of them dancing driftless into the night, drawn in and out of each other's space until they lingered, faces close. There was that last embrace, the strength of Estinien’s grip around him, his hands bunched in Emile’s sweater, and his breath against his neck. In his most recent memory: there’s the sound of Estinien’s rumble of a laugh as he led him through Radz-at-Han, his gaze on him each time he glanced over his shoulder, and his fingertips just barely touching the exposed skin at his waist.
Emile’s breath shakes on an exhale as he looks down at his hands in his lap, and he admits, “I cannot deny that things have felt different between us as of late, but I dare not let myself hope for more. In truth, I’m afraid to want what I cannot have.”
“Emile,” Estinien murmurs, and Emile’s attention snaps back up to him. His expression has softened, eyes crinkled at the corners, and there’s something so gentle about the way he says his name, something that contrasts the rasp of his voice. He lifts a hand to Emile’s cheek, thumb brushing the corner of his mouth as he cups his face, eyes searching his. He breathes out, “You need not fear.”
Emile watches him until he can’t take it, and he turns into his open hand, closing his eyes as he presses a kiss to the rough, calloused skin of his palm. When he opens them, there is something in Estinien’s eyes that he’s never seen before, something open and wanting. He draws his hand away, his fingertips cool along the heat of Emile’s skin as he traces them down to his neck, and Emile’s all but certain that he can feel the rapid thrum of his pulse underneath—his nerves alive and rushing through him, giving away his desire.
“May I?” Estinien asks, glancing down at his mouth before returning his gaze.
Emile nods, just the slightest tip of his chin as he leans in. “Please.”
The gap between them isn’t so far, after all.
Emile’s eyes fall closed as Estinien kisses him, the touch of his lips far more gentle than Emile had expected. He feels the warmth of it spread through him against the cold of the night—warm like honey, like the morning sun, like home. It surrounds him: the proximity of Estinien’s body, his breath against his skin, the way his fingers curl around the back of his neck to pull him closer. It’s what passes between them: the confirmation that they both want this just as much as each other, that it’s more than just a kiss, it’s a beginning.
The world around them feels so far away that it hardly matters at all.
Emile licks at his bottom lip, every thought held captive by the slight gasp Estinien makes as he parts his mouth, as he lets him in, as he shifts so he can wind his arms around him. Emile responds in kind, fingers pressing into his back until they’re chest to chest, and it deepens as they find a rhythm, something slow and languid that builds too strong. A soft moan crawls up Emile’s throat, and every beat of his pounding heart says, this feels right.
They linger forehead to forehead when they part, sharing the same space for a moment longer before Emile pulls back, and he marvels at Estinien’s messy hair, the shine of his lips, the way his eyes blink slowly back into focus.
Emile reaches up to smooth part of his bangs down before he leans in to kiss him one more time. This one is brief—something chaste, something sweet—and he feels himself grin after. He has to bite down on it, unable to contain his happiness, and he clears his throat before he asks, “How long have you been up here? ‘Tis freezing.”
“I thought you would bring your cloak.”
“I left it inside,” Emile murmurs, but he pauses as his words catch up with him. “You knew I would find you?”
His lips curve up at the corners. “You always do.”
“Oh,” Emile says absently, and his face warms with a blush that he thinks he should be embarrassed by, but he can’t find it in him. He keeps watching Estinien and Estinien watches him back, and there’s an intimacy in that, in knowing what his lips taste like, in not being afraid to look. He watches Estinien and he fights a shiver, because he wasn’t exaggerating about how cold the night is, and all he wants is to warm up. “Come here.”
Estinien draws closer, shifting over until there’s no space left between them. He fits himself into Emile’s side, wrapping his arms around his waist, and Emile rests his cheek against the top of his head as he closes his eyes, shutting out the night, shutting out the view, until it’s just them. He can see it so easily—the two of them curled up together on the roof, the stars turning above them, and he feels like he’s outside himself, watching them breathe slow and deep against each other.
They won’t stay much longer, not with the temperature still dropping, not with the new weight tomorrow brings, but this is its own kind of promise, a way of saying, No matter what happens, we’ll have each other. Hold onto me through the night.
Emile presses a kiss into his hair, and for now, it’s enough.
#first kiss fic <:#emile/estinien#ffxiv#oc: emile jenidaut#they're kinda cute ig#this happens early in endwalker but after everything i can't see it /not/ happening then#and the wol stares out the window in the cutscene so like. it's all right there klsdfdsf#also shoutout to azia for helping me straighten this out#i have like four versions of this fic with varying confessions skdjfds#but here we are <3#my writing
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SFW alphabet for Doc? Love that man
you and a bunch of other people alike on my blog heehee c: lots and lots of Doc and Lion lovers in this here town for sure! thank you for being the last request in my inbox, i appreciate it wholeheartedly (yes this is being uploaded before i finish the fics don’t question it)
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SFW Alphabet: Doc
A = Activities (How does he spend his free time with you?)
Though he rarely ever had free time, Gustave did his best to spend what he had with you. He would take you out on fancy dates or just hang out at home with you. At home dates are also a must.
B = Beauty (What does he admire about you?)
Gustave loves your eyes and your personality. Those are the most endearing things to him, and he always finds himself getting lost in the admiration of your eyes.
C = Comfort (How would he help you if you weren’t feeling good?)
Gustave will do anything he can to take care of you if somethings wrong, especially if you’re sick. The man’s a doctor and a humanitarian, after all, he must care for the one he loves as much as he cares for others.
D = Dreams (How often does he picture his future with you?)
Gustave would love a future with you, once he has the time, because he’s always wanted to know what it was like to spend the rest of his life with someone.
E = Equal (Is he the dominant one? Does he take a more submissive role? Or are you both on equal grounds?)
Gustave is on equal grounds with you, but whenever you’re sick or need comfort, he takes a much more dominant role.
F = Fight (Would he be easy to forgive you? How does he fight?)
Fights aren’t common between you two, but whenever you do, Gustave talks to you lowly and firmly. If he’s in the wrong, he’ll apologize. But when you’re in the wrong and you apologize, he’s quick to forgive you.
G = Gratitude (How grateful is he in general? Is he aware of what you do for him?)
Gustave is very grateful for you and the things you do for him. He’s aware of everything you do for him, and he’s happy about it.
H = Honesty (Does he have any secrets he hides from you, or does he share everything?)
Gustave has no secrets, and he tells you about everything that goes down in his life and line of work.
I = Inspiration (Did you change him or was it the other way around?)
Gustave has changed you honestly. He’s shown you a lot of compassion and taught you how to be the same, and you’ve come to care more for certain things in life.
J = Jealousy (Does he get jealous easy? How does he deal with it?)
Gustave only gets jealous when you talk to Olivier, but for the most part he’s fine with everyone else. The way he deals with it is by keeping his eyes on you, watching Olivier’s actions to know whether or not he should give him the punch he’s deserved since the Ebola incident.
K = Kiss (Is he a good kisser? What was the first kiss you two had like?)
Gustave’s an amazing kisser; passionate and fevered. The first kiss you two had was after your first big fight, and he pulled you into a kiss once he pleaded for you to stop walking and you turned around.
L = Love Confession (How did he confess to you?)
Gustave first confessed his love for you when you had gotten injured and he was afraid you were going to die. He didn’t let it affect his work; he was more determined for you to live to hopefully get to continue his life alongside him.
M = Marriage (Does he want to get married? How does he propose?)
Gustave definitely wants to get married. He sees a future with you and he wants to spend his life with you.
N = Nicknames (What does he call you?)
“Mon amour,” and “ma/mon cherie/cher,” are the nicknames he calls you the most. Sometimes he’ll call you his darling as well.
O = On Cloud Nine (What’s he like when he’s in love? Is it obvious? How does he express his feelings?)
Gustave doesn’t make it too obvious, but once he’s much more comfortable with you, he’ll leave little notes behind for you to read.
P = PDA (Is he upfront about your relationship? Does he brag about you, or is he shy?)
Gustave is a bit 50/50 with PDA. He’ll give you little kisses when nobody’s around, and when Olivier was, the kisses were much more passionate.
Q = Quirk (Random trait he has that’s good for a relationship.)
Gustave believes his patience is a good trait. Unless you somehow manage to actually tick him off, he’ll for the most part be extremely patient.
R = Romance (How romantic is he? What would he do to make you happy? Is he cliché or creative?)
Gustave’s a cliché romantic, looking more towards things he’s seen in media he watched years ago.
S = Support (Is he helping you achieve your goals? Does he believe in them?)
Gustave supports you for sure, wanting to be the one to give you the determination to push forward and do great things in life.
T = Thrill (Does he need to try new things to spice up your relationship? Does he stick to a routine?)
Gustave sticks to a routine, but he doesn’t mind if you want to try something new.
U = Understanding (How well does he understand you?)
Gustave has a few things he doesn’t know about you just yet, but for the most part he has a pretty good understanding of you.
V = Value (How much does your relationship mean to him? What’s it worth in comparison to other things?)
Gustave values you a lot, however he is a bit more dedicated to his work. There’s other lives that need saving, as much as it pains him to think about.
W = Wild Card (Random fluff headcanon!)
There was a time where Gustave was the one that ended up being sick, and he tried to push himself to continue working to the point where he passed out. You made sure he didn’t do anything to strain himself, and downright forced him to rest. You took very good care of him, and when he brought it up to thank you, you simply told him you had learned from what he did for you.
X = Xoxo (Is he affectionate?)
100%. Gustave is the most affectionate (and lowkey touch starved) man you’ve ever met in your entire life.
Y = Yearning (How does he cope when he’s missing you?)
When Gustave misses you, it gives him that tell-tale ache in his chest as he waits patiently to get back to you.
Z = Zeal (Is he willing to go great lengths for your relationship?)
Gustave will go great lengths for your relationship, but if you told him to give up his line of work for you, that’s where the inner conflict will come in. He cares about his work and about saving lives, especially yours.
#r6s#rainbow six siege#r6s x reader#rainbow six siege x reader#r6s doc#gustave kateb#doc x reader#sfw#sfw alphabet#fluff#slight angst#x reader#x reader fluff#r6s x reader fluff#r6s GIGN
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One Batfam and Danny interaction that just came to me:
Danny, pointing fingers: How come that you can control those powers already?! It took me months not to clip through the walls!!
Whether or not said Batfam member really has as much control over their new, Danny-given powers as Danny at first believes is a different matter. XD It's about his outrage.
Hahaha lol.
I haven't gone into power shenanigans yet (that'll probably be an extra story somewhere down the line) but my thinking is that the Bats had a fairly easy time with their powers because 1) superpowers aren't that unusual in the DCU, so they have not only real live points of reference but people they can turn to with questions, and 2) they really only have to deal with 1 power whereas Danny was dealing with 3+ simultaneously.
Of course, I haven't shown it yet but like Danny, the Batfam's new powers are largely stuck in the "on" position if they aren't passive, and even then there's something of an adjustment period.
Dick floats if he's not mindful of it and now frequently hovers over his bed when he's sleeping, The Exorcist style. He kind of just lets himself do it when he's alone or in the company of other Bats or heroes, so it's not too much of an issue so long as he's not seen doing it in pubic as a civilian.
Jason is going to have a hard time getting needles through his skin now, so he better be careful about exposure to airborne chemical weapons. And also getting yearly vaccines.
Tim's astral projection doesn't necessarily mean that he's fully resting. The energy is more split between his astral form and his physical body, so the longer he spends in astral form, the less restful his sleep is. Also, the activation of his power depends on how tired he is when he goes to bed. If he's exhausted enough, he'll just sleep normally and not project at all.
Damian definitely melts a few things in his hands when he's not careful (canon seems to portray ecto-blasts as heat-based attacks, so I'm going to roll with that even though Danny is definitely more ice-affiliated).
Cass slips into the shadows a little too easily sometimes.
Steph sometimes ends up blocking herself with her own shields.
Barbara has to be mindful of what her new telekinesis grabs onto and from what direction it's coming from.
Kate is fortunate that her duplicates can't make duplicates, otherwise she'd have a harder time hiding it.
Duke definitely underestimates his own strength for a while after the abrupt buff. He may not have super-durability, which would enable him to punch through things or crush them without hurting himself, but he does keep accidentally pushing and pulling things too hard. Doors are tricky for him for a bit XD
Bruce regularly keeps blinking out of the visible spectrum, if not the entire detectable spectrum all together. Basically, his power has two settings: plain vanilla invisible (where he's just not detectable on a visible light spectrum), and Super Invisibility (where he just plain stops being detectable period). He can only maintain Super Invisibility for a few minutes continuously before it starts to wear him out (and you can bet that every time he uses it, Clark is sending him a "you good?" text or just straight up calling him to make sure he's okay XD). Of course, his power wants to be "on" all the time, so he has to be mindful of keeping himself within the visible spectrum, lest he just blip out of peoples' perception for a while.
And a note on Alfred's power: He's not going to "de-age" past his prime. I'm putting his age in CiM at around late 70's, early 80's. What his new power is doing is walking his physical body back towards the top of the "physical aptitude" curve, so he'll look like late 50's, early 60's instead of his actual age, but it won't go further than that. And most importantly, he'll feel like he's in his 50's again too :)
To note, when I say "Alfred is immortal now" I mostly mean that he doesn't age anymore. He can still be killed or fall ill, but time no longer wears on him like it used to (and really, as far as CiM is concerned, time was the only real threat to Alfred''s continued presence, so functionally, he is immortal now lol).
One thing that I do plan on writing later is that Jason and Duke spar a lot both for training and for fun because their powers kind of balance each other. Jason can take Duke's hits and Duke can wrestle Jason on fairly equal standing.
But we will be seeing Danny's reaction to the Batfam's swanky new powers fairly soon :)
#void answers#change in management#dc x dp#dc#danny phantom#batman#i recently read 'Batman and The Signal' and i loved jason and duke's dynamic in it#jason was the tough love older brother for duke but you could tell they were pals
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Pale 10.e
He slept a nascent sleep, impossible to track in hours, days, weeks, months, years, or centuries, because it was a sleep so embedded in meat, meat chunks, and mud.
well that's a strong way to start a chapter
“You want a name?” she asked, clearly dissatisfied.
He nodded.
“Then I’ll call you-”
🟂
“Toadswallow.”
huh, I was thinking this might be Peckersnot or one of the other young goblins, guess this flashback is from a while ago. Makes sense that it was Toadswallow, fighting smart from the beginning
Toadswallow picked her up in a swooping movement, reached into his vest for the firework, and a wad of not-just gum that his beloved had given him, that he chewed sometimes while thinking of her.
did we know Toadswallow had a beloved? Part of me feels like this was mentioned before, but I have no specific memories. Did he mention that she had gotten bound by a practitioner?
The Witch Hunter carried on, closing in on Snowdrop. He seemed to notice Bangnut and Tatty, and his head turned, looking up at Toadswallow at the rooftop’s edge.
I wonder how common this kind of cooperation between different types of Others is? Or will he just assume they're all bound to the same practitioner
The Witch Hunter lived in this world. He had permission and access and privileges the Others didn’t. He could say that kind of thing, asking to stop Snowdrop, knowing he looked suspicious, but attempting to force a conversation. Once in that conversation, he could lie and Others couldn’t. He could sound convincing and calm while any Other, even Lis, would give off odd vibes. They would seem dishonest. Or they’d be forced into a corner.
my thoughts aren't cohering at the moment but I like this passage. Nice bit of worldbuilding.
The power, the privilege, the ability to change the world and the ability to exist were all predicated on having a story and having an identity. To do otherwise was to be expendable.
When there were this many faces and names and they became anonymous for being this numerous, the stories were short ones, to be forgotten, saved, or twisted around for the next short story.
in-universe conservation of ninjutsu
And the Faerie, by contrast, were retreating. They didn’t get involved, going back to their courts and kingdoms. The ones who ventured out were exiles, the tired like Guilherme, and the young, like Maricica. Faerie were on their way out.
no grand stories in the modern era. Reminds of how the idea of the lone brilliant scientist/inventor i being replaced with the reality of large teams. All the easy discoveries have been made.
Toadswallow inhaled, deep, and the summer glitter was heavy in the air. Beneath and behind it, close to that family and the man with black hair who had interrupted Guilherme’s maneuvers… the musk of dark fall.
fucking hell Maricica now is not the time
Guilherme nudged him one way, trying to entrap him, while Maricica freed him, countering the pawns Guilherme used. Sending him out toward the water and the southwest.
Toward John. In a roundabout fashion, toward the Ghouls.
well. She's trying to wipe out some of her future opponents, I'd assume
“Anyway, so I’m there and dad comes in. Kid’s in bed, covers pulled over her head. He walks over, bam bam bam, punches her. Walks out. What the fuck, right!?”
... did this goblin rescue an abused child? Actually, I wonder if this is how Toadswallow got into his line of work, teaching kids to handle goblins. He seems protective of kids in general.
He rummaged in a pocket, and pulled out a cold cheeseburger. “I was going to poison this, leave it and see what happened. Might’ve already poisoned it but I’m pretty sure I didn’t. Want? Can’t promise you won’t shit your brains out.”
awww
“All meat. I got ambitions,” Bubble said. “Gotta get strong, gotta kick ass, gotta eat meat, gotta get more meat that’s not for eating. Meat makes the world go around.”
Turdswallow nodded. It was a good answer.
fair enough
“You know that was too close, moron,” Toadswallow said.
Snowdrop shrugged.
Snowdrop is another kid that he can mentor
“You don’t have to lecture me like I’m four months old!” the four month old opossum shouted.
“I was less than forty minutes old when I was figuring some of this out, so don’t give me excuses.”
She huffed, folding her arms.
this isn't even mentorly, this is downright paternal
“Most places have one. Usually the same sort of rule as your Carmine, Alabaster, whoever, trying to stay so you don’t have to travel more than a day to find one. Sometimes they’re in the Warrens, sometimes up here, sometimes they’re tucked away, and sometimes they’re further because goblins are really bad at counting and keeping track. Helps manage things, to have someone.”
She cocked her head the other way. “But-”
“You’re goblin enough. You’re popular. They like you. It’d be a part time gig, bit of showmanship, bit of wisdom. Not for right now, but a few years down the line. Once you have that wisdom. We’d need to get there first.”
oh I like this. Snowdrop spends so much time with goblins, but she's smarter and more stable than most, which is good for a sage. And it's very sweet that Toadswallow thinks she's goblin enough. It also gives her something to aim for and work towards, a reason to keep suriviving that isn't Avery. In general I've been glad Snowdrop has other friends and interests outside of Avery, and I think this is a good next step. They share so much, but Avery does have her own goals and connections, and it will balance things to have Snowdrop get some of those for herself. Less of a subordinate familiar, more of an equal partnership
“You betrayed me, Ysolde,” one said. “And to a High Summer princess!?”
“No, Eristan, not a betrayal, don’t you see!?”
“I don’t! I can’t!”
Toadswallow gagged, silent, hiding within bushes. It seemed so fake a drama.
“All of life’s a stage, Eristan. All of us are telling a kind of story… each the stars of our own tale…”
big soap opera energy
“Tragedy, Ysolde? But we’re of the high spring.”
“You’re of the high spring, Eristan.”
“No! Then you’re-”
“Yes!”
Toadswallow made a barfing sound. Both Fae stirred, looking.
big mood, Toadswallow
The Witch Hunter was inside. In the factory where Nibble and Chloe were.
fuck! Thinking back to early this chapter, about how if there are a lot of people, their stories become short... there are enough Others around Kennet now that some dying will still leave plenty of players in the narrative
“She told me certain details, quite interesting. She also told Maricica.”
Crooked Rook glanced at him.
Toadswallow sighed. “She’s a bit, how shall we say it?”
“Overworked?”
“Glaikit. A moron,” he told her.
“Unkind. I prefer to blame circumstance first, then to take the best possible interpretation, and then to think of things like that.”
ok, so not so much playing both sides as not thinking about the inter-Other conflict
“Do you extend this jolly fucking philosophy to practitioners, Rook?”
“Oh yes,” she said, peering over the mask she held over her lower face. “What a circumstance, that. Almost always their own fault.”
on the one hand, lol. On the other... the Kennet Trio chose this for themselves, but as children in ignorance.
And thinking back to the Blue Heron Institute... what choice did Nicolette have? Or young Talia Graubard, whose mother would have replaced her if she faltered? Or thinking of one of the students, can't remember which, talking about how she had no education outside of the practice, no other way to make a living even if she was old enough to leave her parents' teachings.
"I suspect I know your answer, but I wanted to ask… of the two sides, one wanting to take the Carmine Throne and cast Kennet in new light, and one wanting to oppose that and seek peace…”
thank you so much for asking this outright, Crooked Rook. Could you now go around and ask everyone else?
“Neither.”
:|
Could be worse, and I suspect he might intervene to protect Snowdrop at the very least
“A long few years ago, I visited the Faerie courts. I came to a theory. If words of it left my lips, half of the Others here in Kennet would want to draw and quarter me.”
OwO?
He chortled. “The Faerie live by stories. But so do goblins. It’s… the limerick to their poetry. The one-liner to their epics. From a very early point in time, I knew it was important to tell a lie and portray myself as confident, to be open and ready for ideas, and to be armed with any tool… even theirs. Perhaps that equips me in a unique way.”
“The thought crossed my mind… what if the goblins were an eighth faerie court? What if we’re a counterpoint, noisy and active, to Winter?”
holy shit.
That would... fit. I remember wondering why there was an odd number of Faerie courts, why Winter alone had no dark counterpart. And it would explain why Fae magic and goblin magic are so deeply antithetical to each other, if they're linked like that.
Winter is where Fae go when they stagnate... is Goblin where they go if instead of getting locked into a role from boredom, they break out of it? Or earlier we saw goblins being born from the mud... if Winter is the end state of Fae, is Goblin the beginning? Born from mud and filth, telling a vulgar story or dirty joke, then growing more older and bigger and more complex, the story complicating, settling into a favorite trick and story, then metamorphosing into a seasonal court?
“Everything I’ve done since, aping them, dressing myself up, giving myself a meaningless title, the tricks, using their tricks in my own way, like the curse of three… it’s worked out well enough. I have no glamour, but the Winter Fae have little else. It makes its sense.”
and the glamour grows along the way, until it eventually drowns all else out?
He decided to trust. “Many courts have their markets. Each trades in different things. I think Kennet could host an eighth.”
well damn. Explains why he wants a sage.
“A goblin market? With you at the helm?”
hey! Goblin market, even more than a Faerie market that's a thing of folklore
She nodded. “I changed my position and walked over here because Lucy Ellingson approached the place I was previously standing. Just around the corner.”
Toadswallow went pale. He looked at her, then walked a few feet to the right.
Sure enough, right around the corner, Lucy Ellingson was standing near Matt and Edith, wearing her fox mask, hat, and cape, her eyes burning.
no, fuck, stay away from the Witch Hunter! But I guess if John's in trouble...
What do you want to bet Matthew and Edith called her here in hopes she won't make it?
And she wore the earring.
“Be careful. Their kind can listen in.”
“You-” Toadswallow bit back vicious curse words. Had she realized? Had she done that on purpose? It seemed so, but he couldn’t be sure. Why? To put him at odds with Lucy?
ah. Though I'm not sure this would do that? I don't see Lucy being enthusiastic about a goblin market, but I don't think she'd try to stop it (given reasonable restrictions, like no slavery). His theory about goblins and fae... shocking in general, but I don't think Lucy is particularly attached to the fae/goblin dichotomy. Knowing he plans to be neutral... I guess that could prompt her to try and recruit him?
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Feels like home, part 15
Jakes POV:
I have been watching her with Betty and Phil. The conversation is easy for her. Her laughter fills my ears. I watch as the wind rushes through the loose strands of hair, how the same crisp air brings her scent to me. The sky is a bright blue and the day is as close to perfect as any that I have had.
Betty and Mahri act as if they've known each other for years and I love that the two most important women in my life care about each other. Right now, they are trying to do crafts and Phil is terrible. The best way that I can describe his wreath is that it looks like a kindergartener made it and a car ran over it in the parking lot. I smirk at the fact that he did such a poor job. They are teasing him. I like that part of the day too.
He takes it well, I must admit. He also participated in a craft that he knew he would fail at. I didn't take the risk . Phil has also been acting like a gentleman toward the ladies. Mahri must have set some ground rules. He hasn't flirted with her once. Maybe we can be friends after all.
She looks over at me and signals for my return. I had gone to get us all coffee, but it was really just an excuse to miss craft time. As I walk toward the booth, I see a bright smile from Mahri. I wrap my arms around her from behind and place my chin on her shoulder, lightly kissing her cheek in the process.
"Smooth, man," Phil mocks me.
"He is smoother than you are." Betty states in a flirtatious challenge.
Phil quietly smirks and winks at her. "Trust me, you will see smooth when the time is right." Betty looks flustered. With a cheesy line like that?
I roll my eyes and Betty sends me a death glare. I refocus my attention to the beautiful woman in my arms.
"We have done coffee, made a craft, had coffee again, we have picked out our pumpkins and set a date to carve them. Mahri made apple cider and had coffee to wash it down, Betty and Phil have played a fine game of darts, you have gone shopping. What's next?" I ask looking directly into her eyes even though I am speaking to all of them.
No one says a word as Mahri and I continue to stare at each other. Then Mahri breaks eye contact and enthusiastically declares, "Ok, this is a crazy idea, but I what about a three-legged race?"
"What exactly is a three-legged race?" I respond.
"Trust me, We will kick their asses." She knows that a plan that includes beating Phil at something is right up my alley. I raise my eyebrows and nod my head.
"Oooh, Is that a challenge?" Betty asks. "I can't say no to trash talk." She grabs Phil's arm and they follow Mahri and I.
We all head to the course. I quickly find out what the rules are for this competition, one strap, two legs tied together, run fast but don't fall. Mahri has a strategy and it is clear she has done this event once or twice. As we tie our legs together, I feel the electricity between the two of us. I am determined to use this energy to our benefit.
Mahri and I are ready both fueled by friendly competition and the reward of bragging rights.
"Winner buys tickets to the haunted house" I say confidently as we move to the starting line.
"Deal," Betty nods at the bet and scowls at me as if she could intimidate me any more. I know what a softie she is in the inside. Phil looks confident as well, but I know he doesn't stand a chance. Mahri and I know how each other thinks and in a cooperative game, that is all the edge that you need to win.
"On your mark, get set, GO!" The announcer yells. The race begins, and for a while, Betty and Phil were right next to us, Phil was goading me, "Come on, computer man.", "Let's go, nose job." And my favorite, "Hey, Sucker Punch, you are better at this than I thought."
Betty would have normally told him to "Shut the hell up", but she was trying so hard to win. She was trying to concentrate for the both of them. I couldn't help but admire her determination.
I tightly hold my arm around Mahri's waist, pulling her closer when we threaten to trip. She keeps repeating inside, outside, inside outside so we will remember what foot to move and the speed at which we should be moving. I look to my side, and I notice that Phil and Betty have fallen behind. In fact, they are laying on the ground.
Mahri and I rush to the end. We are victorious. I am proud, more proud than I should be that we won such a silly race, but we did it together and I rarely beat Betty at anything. As we wait at the end of the line for our ribbons, I notice that Betty and Phil have gone. I whisper in Mahri's ear, "Did you see where those two went? I wanted to gloat."
"They fell and landed on top of each other. That is when the kissing started. I'm sure they went somewhere a little more private."
"I am going to kill him..."
She quickly grabs my cheeks and kisses me full on the lips. "I have the feeling that Betty can take care of herself, at least with Phil. He is cute, but such a little puppy around her. He really likes her Jake."
Still reeling from the kiss that was way too short, I feel more than a little excited that we have some time alone together.
"I am sorry that Betty and Phil met us here. I am missing out on time with you."
"The day isn't over yet," she responds as I move her hair out of her face.
"I quickly wrap my arms around her waist. And pull her in close. I have missed you and I have missed holding you this close." I lean in toward her "Is this too much?" I Ask, suddenly nervous.
"No, I have been waiting all day for this."
I graze her cheek with the back of my hand. I know there are people around, but all I can see is her face and her sweet smile. I move in fast and kiss her with all of the longing that I have been holding on to. She returns the kiss. We stay like that for what I am sure is longer than we should at a family event, but I don't care, her arms move around my neck as mine pull her in tighter. Her fingers twirl my hair and my lips move to her ear. I open my eyes, suddenly aware that we must be creating a spectacle. Over her shoulder, I see something peculiar.
Quickly I pull away. "What is that?" I say.
She turns around in my arms and giggles. "That is Mr. Pumpkin". She speaks as if this is the most logical answer.
"Of course it is," I respond. What she is calling Mr. Pumpkin is a man dressed up in an orange sack with a top hat on. The mouth was partially falling off the front of the costume and it looked as though it had been around since the town itself was founded in 1863.
"That.... thing.... is horrific. " I say. She is giggling. Her head is leaning against my chest.
"Jake, he is a tradition. He is just always here." She's laughing at me. "It is comforting."
"How is that thing comforting? I ask, not really expecting an answer. "Not all traditions should be kept."
"I like the tradition we were just enjoying, the victory kiss," she says sweetly.
She is still smiling at me. The sun is setting, it places gold flecks in her hair that is spinning wild and free in the wind and the brings out the light in her gorgeous jade eyes. She is the most beautiful creature inside and out. I can not imagine what I would do without her. I want all of her, but this is a family event. It is also too soon.
"You must be suffering from caffeine withdrawal. You haven't had coffee in at least an hour. Come on. I'll buy you a cup," I say and tip my head to the side showing her the way to the coffee cart. . I wrap my arm around her shoulder and she places hers around my waist. She rests her head on my shoulder. We begin to walk and I realize how simply walking by her side, with my arm around her, walking toward the sunset on a crisp night is a little bit of heaven. I want more of this because this is perfect.
We get our coffees and a couple of sandwiches and find a nice spot to sit. We look out over the lake as we eat. She I leaning into my side. I hope we never lose this physical need to be close to eat other.
Today has been a dream.
It's not over yet.
"I can't imagine how today can get better. It has been wonderful." She says as she scoots even closer to me.
I lean my head down to her and lower my voice. "Baby, I can think of all kinds of ways to make the night better." I tease her. She shivers.
"Are you cold?" I ask, nervous that I have neglected her once again.
"No. Jake when you say some things, it makes me shiver because it is..."
"... too soon?" I interrupt.
My eyes meet hers.
"It does things to me. It makes me feel things." She answers, blushing. "When you call me Baby, in that particular tone of voice, I feel a lot of things."
I smile, this moment makes me proud.
I continue to tease her, I lean closer to her, my lips brushing her ear as I speak. "So, you like it when I call you baby?"
"When you say it like that, but I don't think I could handle it if you called me that all of the time." I kiss her on the forehead as we begin to move from our spot in the bench. and we return to our walk across town.
The children and their families were slowly leaving and the outside lights were turning on. I watched the parents trying to get their children though the gates and into the vans and SUV's. I watch as the exhausted children cry and yell because they have no other way to express their feelings. I watch as the couples give each other a knowing look and prepare for the next battle. I can't wait for that life. Someday.
The air was changing. The leaves were whipping through the sky and the air was getting cooler.
I slow my pace and move behind Mahri, wrapping my arms around her. "Are you cold?" I whisper in her ear. She spins around and meets my eyes.
"Not when we are like this." She smiles a soft alluring smile and kisses me. I return the kiss. It is gentle, soft, even playful. Again, I know it is too long for being in public. Though I didn't really mind, I had to pull away before things got serious. I stopped the kiss, but still held her tight in my arms. Her eyes were full of love and passion.
"I am so immensely pleased that we are here and that I can hold you like this." I sigh.
"Me too, but why the formality in your language. Are you scared?"
"I am apprehensive, albeit very very happy," I respond.
"Why are you nervous?" She asks. This is an important question that I cannot deflect.
I drop my hands from her waist and look down. She instantly grabs for my hands and intertwines our fingers. Her intense stare forces me to look at her. When our eyes meet, she smiles, encouraging me to speak.
"I abhor the notion that I may complicate things between the two of us. I feel so much for you and I want so much. I don't want to push you into something you don't want to do. I can't lose you."
"I want you and I need you and I love you." She says. "I am so sorry for walking away last time. I won't walk away again," she speaks earnestly. "I am glad that you told me. These are the things we need to talk about. Mutual wants and needs." She winks.
"So, we should discuss our mutual wants?" I tease.
"Sure," she pulls me over to a bench and turns to face me crossing her legs. I pull her closer to me so her legs are on my lap and rest my hand there. As usual, she believes in sincere talks requiring eye contact and full attention. She is wonderful. I don't speak for a minute as I am enjoying the feeling of her this close to me. I have missed it. With her here, the warmth returns to my heart and my being is lighter. I take in a deep breath as I watch the ducks on the lake across from the bench. The scent of her, a mixture of flowers and spice from all of the events of the day, grounds me. The sun is almost gone, the color cutting through the sky, leaving ribbons of color dancing in the evening glow. She pulls out her sweater and I wrap it around her, breaking from the trance I was in.
"So, Jake, what is it you want, what is it that you need?" she asks, while intertwining our fingers.
I begin rubbing her back lightly. Making circles and designs as I do. "I want you not to leave. I want to be free to love you."
"You don't feel that way? Free to love me?" She seems shocked.
"Well, I am afraid to cross a line with you physically or verbally. I don't want to hold you or surprise you or to kiss you if it is too much. I don't want to speak the things in my heart because I would rather be with you in this capacity than to not have you."
"Is what we have not enough? Are you unhappy?" She looks down. The clouds are shifting and the night is falling in us.
"I am very happy." I lift her face with a finger under her chin. "I am very happy with you and in whatever way that we are together," I encourage her.
"Then what?" She asks impatiently.
"I want to be able to surprise you, to cover you in kisses when I feel like it, to tell you that I love you."
"And you can't do that?" She still isn't getting it.
"I can, but those actions come with fear. I have to weigh my options. I don't want to push you."
"I have been unfair," she speaks and lowers her head.
"No, you haven't. This is why we are talking. This is how we work things out." I don't want her to feel bad. "I would like to ask if I can be free tonight. Can I call you my love? Can my heart behave as it would like, for tonight?"
"Yes. I hope you will. I hope you will call me love. That is my favorite thing. I hope that you will be free for all nights and we can work on that. I will prove it to you that I am not going to leave." She moves on quickly to the next thought, "Tonight, let's have fun and have more cuddling and more kissing. I have missed this."
"Me too. Ok." I take a deep breath. I hear her words and kiss her trying to show her all of the things I have been keeping hidden. I hope she feels all of my love. Her arms wrap around my neck and I pull her into my side. This kiss was passionate, but there was a sweetness about it. I could stay here all night.
I break away and a kiss her palms. "I love you, Mahri with everything in my being."
"And I love you with the same devotion." She whispers as she meets my eyes and lingers there.
"We have a haunted house to get to. I'm looking forward to seeing my brave girl freak out" I wink at her.
"And I am looking forward to seeing you scared like a little girl."
"I won't be scared by people in costumes." I state firmly.
"You were creeped out by Mr. Pumpkin less than two hours ago." She challenges.
"He looks like he has been trapped in an attic and survived a fire and the place was tight fit. I mean, they could at least dry clean that costume."
She laughs. It melts my heart. "I think they are afraid it will fall apart if it is washed. It is rather worn out."
"See? It is creepy," I smirk, proud that I had won an argument.
"I guess. A little. You are too cute to argue with,"
I love that response. Most people don't think of me as cute.
"Should we head to the haunted house? It is dark enough now."
"Yes," she nods.
"Are you warm enough? Do you need a sweatshirt? I packed an extra." I say encouraging her.
She nods and we walk to the car and get it. As she puts it on, I see her take a deep breath.
She catches me staring and says, "In an effort to fully communicate, I wasn't cold, but I wanted to wear your sweatshirt. It smells like you and it makes me feel happy to be surrounded by you.""
"Baby, there are many other ways for you to be surrounded by me." I wink and pause.
She sees my wink, "You aren't getting this back. It is my new favorite thing...Besides actually being with you."
"I put my hand around her waist and she leans into my side. We walk back toward the festival this way, ignoring the rest of the world and simply enjoying our time together.
"For the record," I begin,"My sweatshirt looks much better on you than it ever did on me."
"Are you saying I'm cute?" She flirts.
"I am saying that you are beautiful, in a sweatshirt, in a dress, in a paper bag. You take my breath away."
She leans in further. Across town I see the lights turn on and the night settle in. The moon is a small crescent and the stars are just coming out to play. I bring her hand up to my lips and kiss her on the inside of her palm. I love everything about this woman and this night and my life.
"Ready to face your demons?" I question"
"With you by my side, I am ready for anything!" She picks up her pace as we head toward my last first for the day.
#duskwood fandom#duskwood#duskwood jake#duskwood everbyte#everbyte duskwood#jake duskwood#everbyte#everbyte studio#duskwood fanfiction#jake x mc
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1.03: I Don't Want the World To See Me- Prison Scene
1.03 Missing Scenes
Pre Police station
AO3
"Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am"
Cheering is loudly heard throughout the bar. Bottles smash to the ground to match the noise of fists clashing on flesh. One of the bar workers, who had just exited the men's room when the fight started, jumps in to break it up.
He grabs TK, pulls him off one of the guys, and throws him into a corner. TK's jacket was lost minutes ago. The worker opens his mouth to announce the cops are on their way when the noise of sirens echoes in the bar. TK gives one last spit by the other mens' feet. That's enough to warrant another attempted punch at his stomach, which he dodges. However, the other one does land a hit on his face just as the cops storm in.
TK is about to retaliate when an officer steps between them.
"That's enough," TK hears him say. He holds one hand up to TK as his other reaches behind him to grab his cuffs.
"You going to cooperate?" The officer asks him.
TK nods.
He is destructive but not that destructive. He sucks in his lip and holds up his arms toward the officer, fingers closed around his palms. A few nights ago, he had a much different image of an officer cuffing him. This current one is much less pleasant.
The officer places the metal around TK's wrists and tightens them.
"Get him outside," the other cop says as he grabs one of the other two. A third cop takes the other.
TK feels the officer's hand on his back as he pushes him toward the door.
"Have you had anything to drink tonight, son?" The officer whose cuffs he was in asks. They're now outside, standing by his cruiser.
"No," TK says. He sniffs and licks his now bleeding lip. Another officer gets out of the car.
"It'd be easier for us all if you're honest. How much have you had to drink?"
"I told you..." TK says quietly. "None."
"So, you wouldn't mind if my partner here checked?" The officer asks.
TK shrugs and shakes his head.
He doesn’t know what they want from him. Do they want him to walk in a straight line? Say the ABCs backward? To be fair, he's not sure anyone can do sober anyway. He doesn't like the tone of the officer’s voice or the accusations and doesn't like how either of them looks at him. He's used to the kindness of a particular officer. He rolls his eyes at himself. Don't think about him. Don't think about him.
Neither of the men believes him, so he’s not surprised when they take out the breathalyzer and ask him to blow.
The one administering it looks at it curiously when TK does, in fact, blow a 0.00. He shows the other officer, who sighs.
"Alright, we'll bring him to the station." He says, brows furrowed. "See what they want to do."
He grabs TK's arm and opens the door by him. "Watch your head," he pushes TK's head down and guides him into the car.
The ride is mostly quiet, besides a few calls on the radio. TK can feel the officers wanting to gossip about him, but he's too close to earshot, so they just look at each other as if talking telepathically.
They bring TK in and have him sit at a desk. A few minutes later, a different officer gives him an ice pack. He doesn't remember when they took his belongings. The ice pack hander tells him to wait for another officer to be processed. TK starts to feel some regrets but at least he's feeling- something- and that was the whole point, wasn't it?
"Reyes! Got an easy one for you," Officer Eriksen yells out to Carlos. He's new but above Carlos. A transfer from a different precinct.
Carlos finishes the coffee he was nursing for a few minutes and walks over to him.
"What is it?"
"Bar fight. Nothing blew over the limit. Free to go" He brings the bag of belongings in clear view. "A Tyler Kennedy."
Tyler Kennedy. Carlos thinks. He doesn't know a Tyler Kennedy-wait!
"Last name?" He tries to ask casually.
"Strand."
Carlos' chest tightens a bit. He swallows hard. The fuck trouble did TK get into now and why does he care?
" What.." Carlos clears his throat. "What happened?"
"Bartender says he asked for mineral water. When she turned to get it, fight broke out between him and the two guys next to him. Other witnesses said he was provoking them, but who knows? Didn't throw the first punch but landed the first one."
"Provoked them?" Carlos asks. "How so?" He doesn't know TK well enough, but he doesn't seem like someone that would provoke others.
Eriksen shrugs. "No clue. Called them ugly or something," He laughs. "He got them pretty good, though.”
"Where are they?" Carlos asks.
Eriksen points behind him to the two men sitting by a desk, no longer cuffed. Carlos nods. It's certainly not the first time he's seen them here, but it's usually on the other end. The men look rough. TK definitely got more than a few hits in.
"They say they're not pressing charges. Kid probably embarrassed them."
"Yeah..." Carlos looks towards his desk where the man in a white shirt sits, an ice pack on his head.
"You know him or something?" Eriksen eyes Carlos curiously. He must've caught Carlos' yearning look.
Carlos clears his throat and stands up straight. He wipes any emotion off his face. Or something..." Carlos sighs and takes the bag of belongings from Eriksen. He makes his way to his desk.
"Oh, that's cold," Mitchell says, coming up behind Eriksen. "What did Reyes do to you?"
"Huh?" He turns around towards her.
"That's the Strand kid, right?" She asks
"Uhh yeah. Tyler Strand?"
"They used to...hang out." She says, raising her brows.
Eriksen catches on. "Ohhh shit."
"Yeah," Mitchell nods. "Payback is gonna be a bitch," She laughs.
#tarlos#tk strand x carlos reyes#tk x carlos#tk strand#carlos reyes#911 lone star#lone star#911 ls#missing scenes#i thought i posted this but i guess i didn't lol opps.#my stuff#my fics#fics
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‘ aftermath ‘(not saying I've been thinking about FO!Poe and Kylo getting shot down or something during some Rebellion Raid but I def have been)
The alarms for the hull integrity were blaring, ringing in his ears as his fingers went to his forehead pulling away and seeing the crimson staining his fingertips. Where did they even come from? There was nothing on the ship monitors. He tried to turn around and look at his passenger, Ren. He saw another blast, direct hit. Kriff!
The explosions seemed to happen in slow motion. It was only earlier today that he was practically bragging about how easy this excursion would be to his Supreme Leader.
----------- (flashback-backstory )
Over the weeks of Poe's recovery from the most recent reconditioning, he had managed to get permission to study some data pads on the First Order Fleet of ships. He was the perfect student, never stepping out of line. Always agreeing when Kylo told him that was enough for the day. He would grow more confident and suggest new ways to optimize the fleets abilities. Boosting speed and hull integrity, shaving off seconds between weapon discharge so they could inflict more damage than they ever had before. He was positively beaming when Kylo gave him access to his Special forces TIE. " I promise you, you won't be disappointed Supreme Leader, Thank you...thank you so much!" They had been in the shared quarters, and he jumped to hug him, forgetting himself for a moment. " Forgive me, I'm just so excited to work on a ship....THIS ship."
He took a few weeks to work out everything that could be upgraded or tweaked to provide optimal flight and weaponry, and walked Kylo through all the new improvements he had made. He wasn't allowed to pilot yet, but he knew this was a step in the right direction. He was proving himself as a useful member to the First Order, and more importantly to the Supreme Leader.
When Kylo told him of the plans to run a short intelligence scouting mission, Poe's jaw nearly hit the floor. "Sir?" he thought he must've misheard the other. " You want---you want me to accompany you---out---of course yes please, thank you!" he chuckled In absolute delight and began rambling things off at a light speed to Ren. He could hardly hide his excitement. The day for their mission was only a few days away, and he was buzzing the entire time.
When the morning came, he popped out of bed and dawned his tailored First Order flight suit, specifically designed by Kylo. He had surprised him with it the night before, it fit him perfectly. He waited for Kylo to open the door between the sections of their shared compartment and did a little spin " What do you think? I pull it off yeah?" Smiling ear to ear he then went to stand at attention, waiting for Kylo's signal that they could leave the room together.
It was all a blur but when they finally arrived at the ship bay, he pointed out the new features he had fixed up in the last twenty four hours, and did the pre-flight check to make sure everything was in order. He was a boy again, his mother letting him fly for his first time. He hadn't been off ship for...he didn't know how long. It had been entirely too long, he could breathe again. He could fly, so he could breathe.
All the necessary safety checks had been completed and he made sure they were all set, coordinates and all. "Ready with permission to fly" He said waiting for the go ahead from Kylo. "Permission granted" he said from behind Poe and he didn't need any other encouragement.
Letting out a deep sigh from the adrenaline building he engaged the thruster and exited the ship bay. His eyes brimming with tears as he saw the glory of the stars once again, he couldn't help but exclaim in excited obscenities as he punched the ship into warp.
The emerged near the outer rim. They were on a routine mission to check to see if the resistance was trying to rebuild outside of the First Orders reach. Poe was showing Kylo some tricks and maneuvers when he thought he spotted something, but it must've just been a trick of his mind.....
-------(current time)
" No---no where did they come from?! There's....theres NOTHING on the radar----" he swiveled to look through the ships windows and saw two old republic era X-wing fighter jets, "Wha--what?!" He felt like he was out of his body, a flash of his life before, it was part of his old Black Squadron. Snap. Snap Wexley was the one that had shot their engines. A critical shot as a matter of fact. It can't be he thought as he sent out the distress signal, briefly he made eye contact with Snap, and the other visibly paled and withdrew the attack. The Special Forces TIE was spinning uncontrollably, Poe was doing his best to keep it in line, but he was losing hope at their survival.
"Sir--sir we're....oh maker, I'm so sorry---we're going to have to crash land----computer says were nearby ---uh Benetage, it's the best we've got..." he plugged in the coordinates and attempted to guide the ship down into the planets atmosphere. "It's going to get pretty bumpy...."
#waysxftheforce#this got so long#and omg#he was so excited to fly#and now hes so sad it might be the last time he can fly#and also hes like what who was that they were#they were my friend before?#was there a before?
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Lust — Kaz Brekker
Gif by @kitsyoung
Request: “Hey. I really like your writing and I was wondering if you would consider writing a Kaz piece with the smut prompts 76, 1 & 33. Obviously with your au rules. If it’s too much I completely understand tho”
“7, 17, 36, and 73 from the smut list for Kaz Brekker please? If not, no worries! 💖 Thank you!”
“Holy shit that last kaz brekker smut- AMAZING. Was wondering if you could write another smut with smut prompt #6? Of course if this bothers you just ignore it. Thank you so much 🥰”
Smut prompts:
1. “You look so good with my hand wrapped around your throat.”
6. “Do you think of me when you touch yourself?”
7. “The only way you’re getting off is on my thigh.”
17. “after that little stunt? you’re not getting off that easy”
33. “Maybe I should get you a collar so you don’t forget who you belong to.”
36. "If I have to pull over, you won’t be able to walk for the next week.“
73. “You know, you look real pretty when you cry.”
76. “Shh, don’t worry, I’ll take very good care of you.”
Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Fem!Reader
Warnings: swearing, explicit smut, dirty thoughts, dirty talk, nsfw, jealous, mention of fight.
Word count: 5k
A/N: All smut requests for Kaz must follow these rules.
Thank you so much for the requests and for all affection 💖 I decided to compile these requests, since they were the same central plot. I added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down. I hope you like it and good reading.
English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.
Requests are open. Love you ❤️
— — — — —
There is a theory that always, somewhere, there will be a person capable of making you lose your breath, and your reasoning, whenever he appears on the scene. Someone who robs you of your breath, your heartbeat, your ability to think clearly and your control to keep your hands not shaking.
And Kaz Brekker would always be that person for you.
From the first time you laid eyes on him, it's been a feeling of dying and going to heaven. Except that Heaven was, in reality, a hot, burning hell. Where your greatest punishment was being forced to watch his tall figure, who exuded masculinity by every inch, walking in front of you like a Renaissance painting very superb.
Nothing that Van Gogh, Da Vinci, and Picasso created has bordered on the personification of beauty that he was.
Kaz was beautiful in a very mysterious, dangerous and chilling way. You would describe his aura as the height of midnight in an enigmatic city, his hair the color of the core of sin and his features as lines that the god Ares would have drawn. Everything about him reeked of the fog of suspense stories, with a touch of lust.
All the looks he directed at you were caustic, flickering and intense as a candle flame, reverberating through your veins like angry eels and always make the room feeling charged with electricity, like the ground after the fall of a lightning. Everything between the two of you seemed to be filled with something fiery and arcane. From the gazes, the rubbing of shoulders, the times when the skins touched. Everything was a compilation of sensations that make you catch your breath whenever Kaz Brekker appeared.
He was your kryptonite. In all senses.
And that was exasperating in the extreme, at staggering levels. You felt your center of your sex vibrate whenever he directed you that voice whit baritone intonation and predatory looks, whenever the button-down shirts were tight enough for you to revel in the contours of his body, or sometimes when he wore the cane to signal or stopper something. This was the worst of them. His cane.
Have you lost count of how many times Kaz stopped you as counting money, by putting the tip of the cane over your hands, or stopped you from going somewhere by blocking your path with the cane, lifting the object horizontally in front of your belly. And every time you felt your legs tremble, your breath fade and a very dirty part of your brain whisper that you wanted him to use that object in you in more fun ways.
Your body was so responsive that there were times when you knew, with every fiber of your soul, that Kaz was able to read the paths in which your thoughts wandered. He lowered his gaze to you, in that breathless connection that promised to contain the most nefarious paths of sin, and maliciously curved the left corner of his lips in an arrogant, oblique expression. At such times, you could feel in your soul the words he did not say:
I know the perverted things that you are thinking.
And the truth was, he really knew. Kaz memorized every change in your breathing, every blush on your cheeks, every trembling of your hands, every your trembling look whit a frightened girl who had been caught thinking of something impure. He knew how your body was responsive, needy. And he himself had to control himself not to push you over the desk in his office and fuck you like an aggressive animal, bringing all your perverted thoughts to life.
It wasn't his physical reactions that kept him from taking action, but an even more visseral reaction than the pulsing desire he felt for you. Mine. The primal, determined, burning sensation of possession. That it ran through his veins like hot, bubbling lava. The desire was familiar, but this statement, not. Like the jealousy he felt for you, he quickly recognized the danger he was in.
If Kaz touched you…he knew he would never be able to let you go.
Mine. A statement that resonated spontaneously whenever he saw you, a testament to the reactions the two of you triggered in each other. However, not even the awareness of the dangerous game that was between you was able to dispel the climate of provocative sensuality that pulsed in the places whenever the two of you were together.
It was like playing with a powerful drug. One slip and he would be addicted forever.
On days like this, when Kaz had just come out of an exasperating meeting with Peka, a businessman and mobster who was always looking for ways to try and bring Kaz down, his already bad temper turned to terrible. He felt compelled to break something, drink a whole bottle of the best English whiskey in that club, and punch someone. Kaz felt the anger pulse through his veins, in a pure and perfect way.
He left the office, turning off his cell phone so he wouldn't be disturbed and descending the stairs to the center of his Crow Club, mind buzzing and anger seeping in his blood. He needed to unwind, maybe get into the car and head home. Maybe actually drink that whiskey bottle. Maybe both.
Kaz was about to take another step down, running a gloved hand through his hair to get it out of his eyes, when his gaze met your figure. And that was when the already terrible temper rose to the very badly.
Normally, a vision like that would have just bothered him, a compulsion to do something. But that day, Kaz was at the height of his angriest feelings. And seeing you, bold as a goddess in that little black dress, next to Jesper at the gambling table and flirting with a guy to your left, did things with every last bit of patience and self-control he had.
His eyes never left you as he took another step, running his hand through his hair again to contain the unruly strands. You were laughing, downing another drink and placing a card on the table. You turn back to the man to your left, your eyelashes fluttered gracefully in a promise to allow him to guide your rein tonight.
But there would be no goddamn rein for that fucking guy to guide.
Kaz gripped his cane tightly, descending the other short stairs and advancing toward your with dangerous, determined, and angry steps.
"...in this part of the year, criminal law cases drop a lot." The damn guy was telling you, his boring blond hair falling over his blue eyes in a way Kaz found annoying.
To fucking hell with that blond-haired Dande.
“Y/n, Jesper!” Kaz tapped the end of his cane on the table, stopping the cards under the polished wooden end.
Everyone at the table looked at him startled, their actions frozen. He saw you swallow hard, a soft tremor sigh in your shoulders.
Good!
“Shouldn't you be at the door?” Kaz turned to Jesper, his eyes sparks with annoyance.
“Right now, Boss.” He stood up, giving you a strained smile and heading towards the door.
“Kaz…” You started, voice softly intoxicated.
You knew you weren't supposed to be at the gambling table, let alone so late at night and drunk, even if Jesper was by your side. You had the ability to win every play, in any game, and that ended up not only driving the others away, but leaving the men, already drunk and irrational, aggressive and with an extremely bruised ego. And they almost always wanted to retaliate physically. As much as there were security guards and cameras everywhere to keep something bad from happening, Kaz couldn't stand the thought of someone hurting you. Not even blinking insultingly in your direction.
He sent you an icy, sharp, steady look. A clear warning for you to stop there any excuse you were about to give. To be careful with the next words you would say. You swallowed hard, looking away and getting up from the table. Slightly wobbly from the drink, you fished your coat from the chair next to you, giving a strained, apologetic smile to the guy you'd been flirting with so far.
“I better go home and call an uber and…” You started, but Kaz cut your sentence.
“I'll driver you.”
His tone exuded annoyance and impatience, giving no opening to any objections, demonstrating that he was in no mood for games. Much less defiance of his orders. You knew him too well to recognize that that night had pulled his nerves beyond what he could handle, the strain and irritation in his eyes told you something had happened beyond what you knew. His jaw, straight and strong as glass, was clenched tightly, his night-colored hair was disheveled in an overwhelmingly attractive way, and his black robes sinfully marred every line of his body.
You should have become wary of the dangerous energy that he exuded through every pore at that moment. However, to your inebriated and excited brain, Kaz Brekker has never looked so fucking hot! Your underbelly vibrated in response to the personification of sin that Kaz was, your heart racing at alarming levels as you followed him out, walking over to his car.
Like every piece of Brekker's clothing, his car was sleek black, with big black wheels, tinted glass and dark leather seats. Hades' chariot. You felt your breath catch when Kaz opened the passenger door for you, his eyes avoiding yours, his jaw still clenched and dangerous energy exhaling through every fiber of his tall, lean body.
Holy Mother of God, this man was a perdition!
Kaz contained an instinctive desire to go back inside and tell that aspiring Dande that you weren't available. Instead, he closed the door when you got in and turned around in the car, closing his own and squeezing the steering wheel harder than he would have liked.
Midnight height light streamed in through the darkened car windows and gently illuminated the curve of your cheek, highlighting your skin that Kaz might have named the color of the gods. So much attention was too seductive. Emotions and reactions still bubbled through each his vein like scandant water, mingling with months of frustrated desires and burning sexual tension.
At that moment, jealousy laced him. Mine. Amazing and at the same time propelled by dangerous strength, Kaz tried to trap that feeling back into the dungeon of his soul. He controlled his fury, yet he couldn't completely tame. Annoyance turned to anger. Starting driving the car forward, Kaz tried to think of anything but how you looked like the Goddess Aphrodite on that dark bench. Splendid as a heat ray in a winter day.
“Kaz…” You started, that gentle, repentant tone that stirred every spark in his soul.
He hated how his name on your lips sounded so sensual, so right and so delicious. He would give everything he had to hear you moan his name.
“Don't start” he warned, now not because of latent annoyance, but because he didn't know if he could stop himself if he heard your voice.
However, you didn't make things any easier for him.
"You don't have to be so angry." You go "I wasn't even using all my intellect on the game, I wasn't trying to win."
Kaz didn't even know if that was the core of the problem anymore. Was he angry that you went to a table where it was dangerous? Yes. But the waters were much deeper than that, much more dangerous. The way your smile, sweet and sensual, was directed at that guy, reeled in Kaz's mind, impregnated with the plague. He felt the blood burn in his veins just remembering how melted you looked for that man. And as much as he couldn't blame you, because you were free and single, the primal, irrational part of him screamed so much louder now.
Mine.
“This does not matter anymore.” It was the only thing he managed to say, the very sensations drowning him.
“And it wasn't even that dangerous.” But unlike him, you were obliterating the burning emotions that Kaz exuded. “There were only a few players drunker than a door, and Jesper was on my side, and also James, who was very charming and...”
Kaz almost lost direction, making the car bounce smoothly. He staked his eyes at you, puzzled and bubbling.
“James?”
“Yeah, the blond guy who…”
"I don't want to know, Y/n." He cut you off "I don't want to hear about the guys you allow to drool around you like mangy dogs."
The distilled rage was impossible to contain, and before Kaz knew it, the words were out. He turned forward again, his hands tighter on the steering wheel.
“Wait…” Your tone was slightly smug, and the way you rubbed one thigh against the other was impossible for Kaz to miss.
The grip on the steering wheel tightened.
“You are jealous?” Your intonation dropped to a low, sensual, provocative level.
Suddenly, Kaz's entire body became very aware of your body inches away. He could feel the heat that you radiated and the lyrical, sweet and sinful scent of your perfume flooded all his senses. The air grew thin, puffy and stuffy, and if it had been December cold outside, Kaz would still feel the height of summer in that car. Flashes of excitement and danger rippled through the car, and the brief silence grew even more charged with sexual tension and lustful anticipation that stirred every fiber of Kaz's being.
He made the mistake of looking at you again, and your softly mischievous smile that promised a lifetime of satisfied desires only served to incite his madness. Kaz had never understood how a man could want a woman so badly that he acted irrationally and carelessly. But now he understood. And when he realized you tried to stifle a sensual sigh from the way he was looking at you, his body won the fight against his mind and Kaz stopped abruptly the car at the red traffic light.
The sexual tension between you had become unbearable. In one moment, Kaz was fighting the series of overwhelming and disturbing emotions that dominated his entire being, and in the next moment, he had taken your mouth with his in a fiery, fierce, animal kiss. Stealing all the air from both of you, his thoughts, and his sanity.
He held your face firmly in his hands, his fingers going down to the strands of hair at the nape of your neck, turning everything into something more caustic and desperate. Yours hands went to his arms, moving up to his shoulders and cupping the sides of his neck, pulling him closer. Kaz's tongue inched into your mouth without waiting for permission, conquering and claiming every fiber of your body, of your soul, in a continued of kisses you couldn't tell where one ended and another began.
The moan of satisfaction you let out gave him a lust and desire unlike anything Brekker had ever felt. Like hot, addictive honey down in his throat. He was still gripped by jealousy, annoyance and possessiveness. With the desire for you pulsing in his body just like his heartbeat.
Kaz pulled back millimetrically, his blue eyes overshadowed by the heat of the moment, his lips red and swollen from the sinful kisses he gave you. At that moment, Kaz Brekker looked like an angry young God, and you've never felt more attracted to someone in your life than you are now.
You looked at him, panting and needy, wishing with all your might that he repeat the same actions. And you knew he realized that. Perfectly. You saw the spark of male satisfaction ignite in his eyes as he absorbed your desire. He was so close... so very close, and you couldn't stand the enormous anxiety for a caress, a kiss, anything.
His cocky smile intensified as you put more pressure in your touch his skin, your fingers trailing down his neck and back to his shoulders, silently pleading for him to do something with you. Anything he wanted.
Kaz lowered his one gloved hand to your jaw, thumb and forefinger squeezing your chin and making you look at him directly, you staring into the deep, shrewd blue of his eyes. He pulled you closer by the grip on your chin, the husky, erotic words hitting your lips like a promise of sin as he said:
“Maybe I should get you a collar so you don't forget who you belong to.”
It was impossible to control the loud, needy sigh that escaped, your center throbbing in despair and wetting the thin cloth of your panties. You wanted he to touch you more, pull your body against his until there was not a single sigh left, claim your soul and your body as his. You had parted your lips to say something, most likely a plea for him to continue, but the traffic light turned green and Kaz took his hands off you, straightening up on the bench and putting the car move.
In the absence of his warmth, his body, you felt cold, empty and frozen. As if Kaz were your sun and you were Icarus. Feeling the compulsion to need to get closer, complete its magnitude and bask in his rays. Every cell in your body begged for him, in needy and submissive requests, telling you to accept anything he told you, that he gave you, as long as it touched you.
“If I knew that to make you kiss me I would have to flirt with someone else, I would have done it a long time ago.” You teased, a satisfied, malicious smile on your lips.
Kaz looked at you in annoyance. In a clear warning that you should never more do that again.
"If you wanted me to kiss you like the brat you are, you just needed to have asked." He countered your game to the full.
"But if I want more than that?" But just as he knew how to play, so did you.
You swiped the tip of your tongue across your lips, kicking off your shoes and pulling your legs over the dashboard of the car, exposing your nearly bare thighs through the thin black fabric of your dress. Your actions instantly caught Kaz's eyes, and his grip on the steering wheel grew stronger and his breathing heavier.
The air inside the car became more ardent, burn, charged with eroticism and lust that left both of you breathless. An electrifying energy coursed through their bodies, as if they had been struck by a bolt of fire. You wanted him in a way you never thought you could want anyone.
Kaz took a deep breath, and looked at you with dangerous predator eyes as he said:
"If I have to pull over, you won't be able to walk for the next week."
The words made your body tremble. But if Kaz was trying to dissuade you, that was the last thing he should have told you. Instead of taming the fire inside you, it threw gasoline into the aggressive fire. You pressed your thighs together, your body sensitive to his words filled with burning promise.
In five minutes of insane courage, you took your feet off the dashboard, leaned toward Kaz, and brushed his neck with your lips. In slow, burning, hot kisses, you traced a path to the pulse in his neck, opening your lips slightly to brush your tongue over that pulse point.
“Please.” You beg.
Kaz's moan was low, but loud enough in your mind. You were being his undoing and you knew it. Suddenly, the car veered to the right and came to an abrupt stop. You would have lost your balance if Kaz's hands hadn't clung to your waist, pulling you in one movement to his left thigh, pressing your soaked core into the black fabric of his pants.
You gasped loudly, or he, or both. And in the next moment, his mouth was on yours again. The kiss was more aggressive, possessive, angry and ardent. Kaz kissed you as if he wanted to decree you his, proclaim his possession. You didn't see when he removed his gloves, but the touch of his skin with on your thighs was all you could think of.
“Kaz…” You moaned into his mouth, and the grip on your thighs moved up to your hip, digging his fingers into your thin dress-covered skin with such force it was sure to leave marks tomorrow. "Please."
You knew what you were begging for, but the moment Kaz forced your waist to move against his thigh, rubbing your pulsing core against his thigh, you forgot even your own name. And Kaz knew it. Then, like dominant man who wanted to see you surrendered to him that he was, his mouth went to your ear as he whispered:
"Do you want me to fuck you?" Kaz wiggled his thigh against you, making your clit roll against the soggy fabric of your panties.
You moaned loudly, your hands tightening on his shirt, your face hiding in his chest as an overwhelming, aching pleasure invaded your system. It felt good, but unbearable for being so little, churning something in your belly that made you despair for more.
"Y-yes." You whimpered, rolling your hips on his thigh.
Kaz's bare hand crept up the slit between your thighs, your dress already balled up at the top of your waist, and dipped his fingers into the juncture of your pussy and his thigh, pulling your panties to the side and making you feel the fabric of his dark pants against your wet, hot flesh. You moaned louder, your grip on his shirt tighter and your hips rocked harder for have any friction.
“Do you want me to fuck you like the little slut you are? Is that what you've wanted all this time?” His words, husky and strong, in that intense, dominant intonation, sent all your self-control to hell.
"Yes." You sobbed. “I-I need you."
But his hand in your panties went up to your chin, and he forced you to look him in the eye once more. The electric intensity of that look turned you on even more, making you gasp as his thigh still rocked against your throbbing clit.
“After that little stunt? you’re not getting off that easy” It was very hard to think with all the stimuli he was giving you, but the thunderous blue eyes warned you to pay attention to his words “Do you think you deserve me to fuck you?”
His gaze invaded you so deep and so warm and intense that you wondered if he was trying to leave a burning imprint on your soul. All over your body, overwhelming desires resonated, and you gave in to the compulsion to roll his thigh further, whimpering from the pressure on your clit.
"I'm s-so sorry." You whimpered, eyes pleading with he "It won't happen again."
"Won't happen what?" He tightened his grip on your chin, not painfully, but firmly to get your attention.
"It won't happen again, Sir."
The reward for your obedience came in an aggressive, hungry kiss, his hand in your chin dropping for your hip and wiggle his thigh at your needy pussy.
"Do you want to cum?" He teased you.
"Yes, S-sir."
"The only way you're getting off is on my thigh."
Then, as if to reiterate his statement, his mouth clutte to yours once more, his thigh swayed with more vigor and his bare hands moved up to the neckline of your dress.
His warm palms and long fingers lowered the straps of your dress and released your braless breasts, your nipples hard with pleasure and your breasts swollen with arousal.
Your moan was muffled by Kaz's, and he just released your mouth to lower his lips to your left breast, capturing the innocent nipple with his mouth and rolling his tongue across your flesh. You moaned louder, your waist twisting desperately against his thigh as your hands tangled in the strands of his black hair.
Kaz delighted in every inch of you, his hands going back to your waist as his mouth attacked your other breast, leaving a trail of hot saliva on his tight, needy nipples. Brekker was consumed by a fierce hunger and need, so overpowering that he pressed his fingers to your skin as if you were his last meal. He'd wanted for so long to do all that, to dive into your body like a starving man, savoring every inch of your warm skin.
Letting out a loud, delighted moan, Kaz increased his thigh movements as he suckled on your nipple, feeling flung to hell heaven as you squealed softly and collapsed onto his thigh, smearing his black fabric with your hot cum. But Kaz couldn't care less about the fucking pants. His cock hard and rigid as a sword hilt throbbed desperately, commanding him to sink into the heat of your slippery walls.
"This is much better than I dreamin." You whimpered softly, your face still buried in his neck, your waist wiggling slyly in his thigh.
"Do you think of me when you touch yourself?" He teased you, taking his hands to your panties away from the center of your pussy and pulling them between your legs, tucking them in his pants pocket.
You nodded, your mouth dipping into his neck in broken kisses as your hands went to his pants belt, trying to get rid of any barrier between the two of you as quickly as possible.
"Please, please." You begged, flustered as Kaz stopped your hip movements with his hands "I need to feel you inside me."
Your plea was sated with an arrogant kiss as Kaz reached for his pants, pulling the fabric of the boxer together and letting pop out his dick throbbing, pulsing and his swollen head, brushing in your pussy with lazy strides.
"S-sir!" You cried, trying to earn more.
"Shh, don’t worry, I’ll take very good care of you."
The strong, long arm wrapped around your waist, pressing your chest against his chest as Kaz guided his dick to the entrance to your pussy, with one hand. He play whit you, pressing his head into your entrance just enough to make you feel the pressure, recoiling when you swayed frantically for more. The painful pleasure sent tears to your eyes, and you sobbed loudly as you were just toy in his hands.
A few hot tears ran down your face as you whimpered, helpless in his arms to get what you wanted.
"You know, you look real pretty when you cry." Kaz pressed his mouth to yours.
In that second, he completely sank his dick into you, swallowing your loud scream as the thickness of it widened you and hit the bottom of the well. The grip of his arm around you tightened, and Kaz lifted you and brought you let down badly, drown his dick even more deeply inside your hot, wet, desperate walls.
"S-sir!" You moaned loudly, his mouth leaving yours, but not pulling away enough and letting you feel his hard breath hit your lips.
You followed his thrusts, bouncing your waist up and down hard and letting his dick beat frantically inside you, robbing you of your breath and your ability to think. Your moans mingled with his, the pornographic sounds of their bodies crashing together were loud and you thanked God the car windows were black and the street was deserted.
"So fucking good slut!" Kaz growled against your lips, one hand leaving your body to snake down to your throat, maintaining a firm, dominant grip.
You moaned his name and his title between loud moans and broken sobs. Yours hands closed around the shirt off his shoulders and the waist shimmied between the thrusts, making sure his dick was completely inside you.
“You look so good with my hand wrapped around your throat!” Kaz tightened his grip on yoir neck, watching you tilt your head back and expose your entire body to the delight of his eyes.
He growled louder, spurred on by that sinful sight, and increased the rhythm that pounded inside you, filling every inch of you and sinking down as anatomically as possible. Kaz felt possessed by a wild beast, insatiable and euphoric, and each thrust he gave you was more force he inflicted on you, marking you as his.
Kaz pulled your neck to him, pressing your mouth to his as he growled against your lips: “Mine.”
You nodded frantically, the apex bursting in a burst of pleasure as his dick came out and sank in hard, desperate, urgent strokes.
“Yours”
You promised, kissing him urgently and swallowing a low cry as his dick shuddered inside you, flooding you with the hot liquid until your walls overflowed, giving you a feeling of being incredibly full. You whimpered into his mouth, exchanging a sloppy kiss as Kaz gave you a few more thrusts, making sure his cum would fill your every inch, not letting you dare waste a drop.
“Mine” he repeated through the kiss.
so, the weather??? HAHAHA, anyway friends, i hope you enjoyed. Don’t forget consult the rules if you want to request for some Kaz smut. Love u. O
#kaz brekker fluff#kaz brekker imagine#kaz brekker fanfic#kaz x kruge#kaz brekker au#kaz brekker smut#kaz brekker x you#kaz brekker could break my legs with his cane and i would say thank you#kaz brekker x reader#kaz brekker x y/n#kaz brekker#shadow and bone smut#inejgayfa#jesper fahey#kaz x jesper
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Late Nights (The Outer Banks: Rafe Cameron)
This song just gives giant Rafe Cameron enemies to lovers vibes! Also, Holy shit, this is my longest work ever! I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much I enjoyed writing it!
This takes place season 1, before Rafe kills Peterkin. Let’s just pretend he’s not a psychopath. He’s still the resident bad boy of Figure 8, but not a killer…
summary: female reader (she/her) x Rafe Cameron When Y/N finds herself abandoned by her friends at a house party thrown by no other than Kook King, Topper Thornton, she finds odd company in the form of her classmates and neighbors that she has taken very little liking to. She is surprised to learn that her disinterest in all things “kook-related” has sparked the interest of a particular kook. tw: mention of alcohol/drug consumption, slight smut (18+) word count: 4.1k
Y/N might’ve been a kook, but if it wasn’t for her consistent attendance to Figure Eight events you wouldn’t have known. She hated all the superficial bullshit and quickly found herself befriending a certain group of pogues who she would often run into while working on the Cut. Everything in her life had been so easy for her, and although she was grateful, she couldn’t help but feel guilty about the privilege she received while her friends had spent their life fighting for a chance. Being able to find an ally in Kie was all that Y/N had to look forward to as she continued to find a place for herself among the fight between class divisions in her small hometown.
Summer was coming to an end, and with a few weeks left you couldn’t help but just enjoy the moments with your friends. Sitting on the small boat as the sun slowly set, passing the blunt around while you all tried to keep a serious conversation going before blurting out laughing at some stupid shit JJ had said. You had even found an unlikely friend in the form of kook princess, Sarah Cameron. You had known Sarah Cameron for as long as you could remember, always greeting each other’s families at events and having at least one class together every year. But this was different, you had known Sarah but never gave her a chance to hang out. When John B mentioned her a few weeks ago and started to bring her around you and the other pogues were stunned to say the least. You knew that she was dating Topper Thornton, I mean everyone knew that, but what she had with John B was different, at least from what you had seen. “This was great guys, but I promised Topper I would meet him at his party. Keep up appearances, you know?” Sarah said unsurely. Everyone looked around, nodding in understandment, except John B. “I don’t like him,” JJ spoke up, standing up for John B who continued sulking in silence. “Yeah, him and Rafe are always doing some shit,” Pope also spoke up. “You guys have no idea,” Kiara replied while rolling her eyes at the thought of the kook boys she had known so well. You also nodded in response. “Yeah, well I would invite you guys, but I can’t imagine that going over well.” Once again everyone nodded in agreement, except John B. “What if Y/N goes with you,” he suggested. “Thanks for throwing me under the bus!” you exclaimed back at him. Sarah turned to you with a shy smile, “It’s not such a bad idea. I mean you would know almost everyone.” “Yeah, so does Kie, you don’t see her being volunteered to go,” you exclaimed again. “That’s because they actually like you,” Kie replied, smirking when you rolled your eyes at her statement, she was right. “C’mon Y/N it’ll be fun. You’ll have me to hang out with and if you absolutely hate it, we’ll make up an excuse and leave. Besides, it’d be nice to have someone there that I don’t need to be fake with.” You thought for a moment before slowly nodding your head, cursing under your breath as your friends cheered around you. “There’s our little kookie,” JJ stated, jumping away in defense as you attempted to punch his arm.
The bass of the music pounded in your ears as you walked up the driveway. If even possible it got louder once you finally entered the front door, you swore your eardrums were about to rupture. Finding the kitchen, you reached out for two truly’s, your disappointment in the night continuing as feeling they were just room temperature. They weren’t your first choice of alcohol to get through a night like this and seeing as though they weren’t even cold made it worse. You instantly cracked it open, downing as much as you could on the first sip. You handed the other one to Sarah, bumping your open can to her’s in an attempt to say cheers. She laughed at you, “I’m gonna go find Topper. You’ll be okay if I leave you alone for a few minutes?” You took another sip before responding, “Figured this would happen at some point, yeah I’ll be good.” Watching her leave your eyes scanned the kitchen, deciding you needed to loosen up some more you pushed off the counter, “I need something stronger,” you whispered under your breath.
Making your way through the house you scanned the room for unattended bottles you could mooch off. To your surprise you were pulled by the arm, “Omg Y/N, what are you doing here?” a girly high-pitched voice screeched. You turned around, already ready to use your preppy voice, “Hey Claire,” you responded in a mock happy voice matching hers. Claire was sweet, n just not your cup of tea. The two of you had always been civil, sharing a few classes here and there. “Mind if I?” you asked, gesturing to the bottle of Tito’s vodka in her hand. “Oh sure, just be careful. I’ve gotten fucked up with this shit more times than I could remember,” she laughed while handing you the bottle. You lift the bottle up to your lips, the taste on the rim barely making an impact on your tastebuds. But as you thew your head back and lifted the bottle you took one big swig. The alcohol ran down your throat, a warmth following the path it took as it settled in your stomach. “Ugh, Claire, that shit is just straight rubbing alcohol. How the fuck do you drink that?” you exclaimed, handing her the bottle as you wiped the back of your mouth with your hand. She laughed at your reaction, “Believe me, in a little while you won’t even care how it tastes. Just know that you’ll feel it.” You nodded your head while once again scanning your eyes across the room. A few feet away was a coffee table surrounded by teens. Claire noticed your interest and dragged you over. Looking up from the table was Rafe Cameron, Sarah’s brother, who on more than one account you had gotten into a heated argument about your choice of friends. The two of you made eye contact as he wiped the leftover residue from the line of cocaine he had just done. Classy as ever Cameron, you thought as you broke eye contact and examined all the other teens waiting their turn. Rafe greeted Claire with a smirk and half-nod before returning his attention to you. “Awww Y/L/N, get tired of hanging around those boring old pogues, and decided to have some real fun?” he mocked while gesturing to the lines set up in front of him. You scoffed at his suggestion, “Keep dreaming,” you responded. Living in your teenage years and drinking was one thing, but if your parents caught you doing drugs there was a good chance you wouldn’t have much of a life to live. Making eye contact with you he slowly lowered himself closer to the table, quickly doing another line before looking up at you again. Is this kid trying to kill himself? you thought to yourself. You reached out for Claire’s bottle, taking another swig before motioning it up to Rafe. “Always a pleasure Cameron,” you stated before handing Claire her bottle.
Leaving the room, you realized that you hadn’t seen Sarah for a while. Wandering around the house in attempt to find her you bumped into Topper. “Hey Top, seen Sarah anywhere?” you asked. “Uhm a little while ago, she said she went to go find you,” he said quizzingly. “Yeah, right. Just kidding, she went to the bathroom. I’ll go find her,” you quickly spitted out. Nearly running you got away from Topper as fast as you could before finding an empty spot on the wall. Leaning back against the wall, you pulled your phone from your pocket and found a few texts from Sarah and one from John B. “Hey Y/N, John B showed up.” “We just left, please distract Topper.” “I owe you one.” You responded back, “ughh ok, I’m on it.” Clicking on John B’s name you read his message, “sorry kookie, had to steal her. thanks!” You rolled your eyes at the dumb nickname him and the others decided for you, their attempt to always tease you about your kook lifestyle. You sent him the middle finger emoji and a yellow heart before turning your phone off and looking around for Topper. Spotting him talking to Kelce you kept your place on the wall. As long as you could see him and he couldn’t see you, there was no reason to suspect anything about Sarah. Besides, after about half an hour you could probably make a break for the exit, and no one would notice.
As you continued to scroll on your phone you were slightly startled by the presence of another human standing near you. Your eyes looked up to a boy standing in front of you. He was tall, but you couldn’t ignore how young and immature he looked. “Don’t even think about it freshman,” you said before he had the chance. He laughed while nodding his head. “Hey, I had to try. Should’ve known a girl as smart as you wouldn’t give me a chance,” he responded. You gave him a quizzical look as you quickly glanced him up and down. He wasn’t too dumb if he knew to compliment your intelligence over any physical feature. He reached his hand out to shake yours, “I’m Nathan.” You glanced at his hand for a second before reluctantly shaking it “I’m Y/N,” you replied. “I know,” he said a little too quickly making the both of you chuckle. “Mrs. Nichol said you were the captain of the mock trial team. She talked to you the other day about me joining,” he rambled on. You laughed at his apparent nervousness. “Oh yeah, well I guess it’s nice to meet you, Nathan. Not exactly the type of place to bring up extracurriculars,” you laughed while motioning to the number of teens, drugs, and alcohol around you. As you did you could feel the stare from a certain kook, no doubt watching your exchange with the boy in front of you. “Probably not, but it did get you talking to me,” he quirked back. Nodding your head in amusement at his reply you responded, “Touché.” As the volume of the music had apparently increased within the last few seconds of your exchange, Nathan leaned forward slightly so he could hear you better. “Can I get you something to drink?” He asked while leaning down. “I can take it from here,” you heard Rafe speak from behind you as he slid his hand around to the small of your back. Confused by the situation unraveling in front of you, you were quick to speak. “Uhm, actually Cameron, Nathan and I were having a lovely conversation about something you couldn’t possibly be interested in,” you stated attempting to distance yourself away from Rafe and closer to Nathan. “Yeah, I—” Nathan attempted to speak before being interrupted, “Seriously, Miller, beat it or practice on Monday will be hell.” You confusingly looked at Nathan and Rafe before finally understanding. Just like you would be Nathan’s captain, so was Rafe. “Water polo?” you questioned. “Yeah, you’ll catch a game?” he asked in return. “Yeah!” you said sweetly before a mocking scoff turned your attention to Rafe, to which your surprise still had his hand on the small of your back, it almost felt natural that you hadn’t noticed it was still there. Looking at him expectantly he pulled his hands away holding them up in an ‘ok I get it’ way. “Can I help you?” you asked expectantly. “Care to go for a swim?” he asked. You looked at him confused, you weren’t sure if it was your light buzz from your shots of vodka talking but he seemed just as surprised as you were as you answered, “yes!”
As he grabbed your hand, you quietly followed as he led you through the house. “I’m gonna need more alcohol before we do this,” you exclaimed as loud as you could, hoping he would hear you over the volume of the music. He turned to look at you for a moment before turning back and nodding, showing that he had in fact heard your request. Walking through the kitchen he left you at the counter while reaching into one of the cabinets, pulling down a full bottle of Tito’s. He motioned you from your spot and you continued to follow. “My parents got this as a gift for the Thornton’s but it’s not really their style.” You nodded understandingly, Topper’s parents didn’t really seem like the type to be chugging back vodka shots, they were more sophisticated. Following him through the house you were confused as you walked past the sliding glass door that led to the pool and the dozens of other teens who had the same idea you two had, or so you thought. “Where are we going?” you asked. Rafe stayed silent as you continued following him. Opening another set of glass doors, he let you exit first before quickly following. On the side of the house was a hot tub that apparently no one knew about, seeing as though you and Rafe were the only ones out here. “What the hell is this, Cameron?” you asked. He looked at you, confusion evident on his face. “You said we were going swimming. We can’t do that in a hot tub.” He laughed before handing you the now open bottle of Tito’s, watching you take a sip he replied, “What, did you plan on working on your breaststroke or something?” He said jokingly. “No, I actually planned on playing mermaids. Maybe it’s you who needs to work on breaststroke,” you responded wittily. He feigned shock and hurt, taking the bottle from your hand. “My breaststroke is amazing, just ask your friend Claire,” he winked as you scoffed in amusement and disgust. After taking another sip he handed the bottle back to you, removing his clothes he stripped down until he was in his boxers. That left little to the imagination as you could see the outline of his dick printed. Feeling your eyes, he gave you a smirk to which you sheepishly took another sip of vodka, shaking as you felt the liquid burn down your throat. Entering the hot tub, he sat with arms spread out to both his sides, resting on the edge. “Aren’t you going to join me?” he asked. You nodded, feeling your breath catch in your throat. You handed him the bottle, starting to undress as you felt his eyes drawn to your exposed skin where you had begun to lift your shirt. “Hey! Turn around Cameron,” you exclaimed. He put his hands up in defense, turning his head so his attention was drawn to the bubbles and pressure coming from the jets. Folding your shirt and jeans on to the table nearby you turned back around to Rafe examining your exposed body adorning a basic black sports bra and lace thong. You immediately turned red, not knowing how to react under his intense stare. As you entered the hot tub you slipped when placing your foot on the bench to step in, landing you a little closer to Rafe then you planned. He held your arm as you attempted to steady yourself. “You alright?” he asked. You were able to manage out a “mhmm” as you reached for another sip from the bottle. He gladly handed you the bottle, a lazy smile on his face.
You weren’t sure how you always ended up like this but something about being drunk and outside led to you staring at the moon and stars. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Rafe asked, breaking the silence. You tried to remain calm with his choice of words, not wanting him to know the effect he was having on you. “Just thinking,” you responded quietly. “About what,” you scanned his face for a second, genuine interest radiating off him. “As niche as it sounds, life…I mean doesn’t this all seem so pathetic,” you stated as you continued to stare off into the sky. “Life?” he asked, laughing to mask his confusion. You chuckled along with him, “No, this…pogues vs. kooks. It’s all so fucking dumb. There are so many more problems out there, so many people who need help and we can’t even come together to help people in our own community.” He just hummed as you continued to ramble on, listening to what you had to say. “I can’t help but just feel guilty. I mean what did I do to deserve this type of life. I mean my parents work hard but they’ve had so many opportunities because of their parents and their parents, and it just keeps going. This sort of generational wealth and success…” you quietly trailed off as you realized who you were talking to. “But I mean you probably don’t care,” you said while looking at him. He shook his head with a smirk. “Now I know why Sarah never shuts up about how smart you are.” You looked at him more intently, “what?” you exclaimed. He nodded his head, before turning his attention to the sky like you had before. “I mean, I guess I just never thought of it that way. Kind of blind to the privilege that I have.” “Must be all the coke,” you mumbled to yourself under your breath. He shot you a warning look before chuckling, “might be the coke,” he responded. You laughed along with him before a serious tone washed over him. “I mean it Y/N, you’re just so attuned to the needs of others,” He exclaimed. “Well, you can be like that too,” you reassured him. “Yeah right, there’s not a lot of hope left for me,” he replied sarcastically. “That’s not true. I mean sure you have your flaws, but from what I’ve seen you’re a good friend, loyal and family is important to you. Those are good qualities, and I mean of course you’re not half bad looking.” He laughed at the last part. “Well, Y/L/N, you’re extremely caring, intelligent, and hot as fuck! So, you have that going for you.” It was your turn to laugh and turn red at his comment. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol dulling your senses, but as you looked into Rafe’s eyes you felt yourself being drawn closer. You both leaned in, lips barely brushing each other as your breaths slowed. “Can I kiss you,” he asked. You could barely hear him over the sound of your own heart beating in your chest. “Please,” you nearly whined. Your tone making Rafe swoon as he gently pushed his lips onto yours.
As happy as you were with his gentleness, the alcohol you had consumed throughout the night had made you far hornier than you liked to admit. Leaning deeper into the kiss you gently placed your hands onto his chest before lightly pushing him back to so you could straddle his lap. As you did so, Rafe took a large sip from the bottle, as you looked at him expectantly. He gave you a smirk before bringing the bottle close to your lips, tilting your head back, you let him pour some of the alcohol down your throat. Before you could process the liquid once again burning the back your throat you pressed a heated kiss on to his lips. As your hands moved up from their place on his chest to the back of his neck, playing with the ends of his hair, his hands move from where he was setting the bottle down to trailing around your waist and landing on your ass, holding you in place. As your tongues continued to fight for dominance, he pulled away slightly. Kissing down your jaw and starting to suck on your neck you slightly grinded down on to him while continuing to play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. His hands left your waist, guiding your hips back and forth as you continued to grind on him. As he continued to work on your neck you moaned as he found your sweet spot, “Fuck Rafe,” you exclaimed. You could feel him smirk as he continued. Giving him a break, you leaned forward slightly, changing the angle to which you were grinding down on him and leaving marks over his neck and chest. “Fuck babe,” he stated. “Being so good to me,” he continued as he leaned in for another kiss. “Yes, sir,” you said, testing the waters. You could clearly tell that you were starting to drive Rafe crazy as he moaned into your mouth at your response. Roughly grabbing your hip, he speeded the pace of your grinding. As you continued to litter marks along his chest, he reached a hand up to pull your sports bra down far enough so that your boobs were spilling over the top. The pressure of the band along with the added sensation of Rafe’s mouth on your nipple was almost too much. Along with this you could feel how hard he had gotten under you. I mean, you knew he was big, but this was godly. Your makeout session was quickly abrupted as you both snapped your heads to the sound of the glass doors sliding open. Quickly removing yourself from Rafe’s lap and adjusting your bra, you sat silently, reaching for the bottle again. “What’s up Top?” Rafe asked nonchalantly. Topper looked at you both slyly, clearly knowing what he half-witnessed between the two of you. “Not much, I can’t find Sarah anywhere Y/N. And she’s not answering her fucking calls.” “Yeah, she wasn’t feeling well. Said she headed home; her phone probably died. Don’t worry Top,” you said as convincingly as the alcohol would let you. Topper seemed to accept your answer and reentered the house. Rafe looked at you unconvincingly. “She just left you?” he asks. Avoiding his gaze, you let your hands play with the water. Slowly nodding your head, you responded, “guess so…” “That doesn’t sound like Sarah,” he continued. “Well that’s what happened,” you snapped. Thinking about the conversation you would have to have with Sarah about how you failed to keep Topper distracted and the alcohol finally making its presence in your system known was too much to handle. “Ughh back to reality, I guess,” you groaned out. Rafe pulled you into his side so that his arm was around your shoulder and your head resting on his. “What are you up to now?” he asked. “Figuring how to make it home alive,” you chuckled dryly. He hummed in thought next to you. After a second, he spoke, surprising you in the process, “Stay with me.” “Rafe…” you dragged out unsurely. “Seriously Y/N, that way you don’t have to worry about going home right now.” You looked at him for a second before slowly nodding. Getting out of the hot tub he disappeared for a second before returning with a set of towels. As you both dried yourselves off and gathered your clothes you headed to Topper’s guestroom.
Stumbling around in your drunken state, Rafe grabbed the clothes from your hand. Setting them on a nearby table he turned so that you were facing each other. Reaching down slightly he grabbed your legs from under your thighs so that he was now carrying you. Feeling the warmth of his chest you pressed closer, wrapping your legs around his hips in the process. With each step you slightly bounced against him. The sexual tension from earlier quickly returning. Finally reaching the room Rafe laid down so that you were now on your back while he hovered over you. With your legs around his waist and arms around his neck you gently pulled him in, pecking a sweet kiss on your lips. “I need to shower,” you said shyly. He nodded his head, pulling away slightly so he was standing, and you stayed sprawled out on the bed. “I’ll go get us some water,” he stated as he slowly walked out the room. Leaving the door cracked enough so he wouldn’t bother anyone with the sound of it opening and closing you sat up, finally taking in your surroundings. Getting up and heading to the bathroom you folded your towel, pulling off your bra and underwear as you let the water run until it was hot enough. As you let the water run over your body you stood for a minute, just thinking about everything that had happened that night, you rub your hands down your face, muttering “fuck.” You weren’t sure what was happening, but it was a problem future you would just have to deal with later.
a/n: If you like my work please support by liking/reblogging. Also, feel free to message me about ideas. I haven’t written in a while because I don’t have a lot of time, but when inspiration hits i’ll sit down for hours :)
Masterlist
#teentvimagines#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron imagines#obx#obx netflix#obx imagine#obx imagine rafe#obx rafe cameron#Spotify#obx imagines
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What about a insecure reader about her and Ushijima's relationship since he doesn't seem all to interested in having her around unless it's for volleyball purposes. So when she starts to drift away from him he's super confused, suddenly Tendou becomes more comfortable to sleep on at movie nights, and Reon seems to know everything you used to tell Ushijima. And he struggles internally because he doesn't know what to do. And the last straw was when you walked in holding Goshiki's hand and he walked over pushing the 1st year away with a worried/pained/anxious face shaking his head saying no because he doesn't to no what else to say but he knows it's not right.
Muddle<3
relationship: ushijima wakatoshi x reader, slight oikawa tootu x reader
words: 1.5k
synopsis: Ushijima can’t bare to lose you.
cw: insecurity
a/n: i havent written something like this in a while and i really missed it!
Ushijima Wakatoshi was not emotionless.
Simple, but not emotionless.
It was something that had to be constantly reminded before people began to truly believe he didn’t feel anything. He’s had his many licks with emotion, as anyone else would. The joy of finding the one thing he truly loved doing; volleyball. The confusion when his mother began reprimanding him for using his left hand. The overwhelming helplessness when his father walked out the door.
Butterflies when you smiled at him in the hallway, the heat in his cheeks when he saw you in the stands at one of his games. The shake in his hands when he met you at the gates and told you his feelings, very detailed in facts.
Ushijima Wakatoshi was clearly not emotionless.
So why was it he seemed so indifferent to you?
You knew he had to feel something for you, people don't empty their entire heart just because they felt like it, at least you hoped. Of course, as much as he denied, you knew that you would be on par if not second to volleyball. In a sick way; you were fine with it as long as he came back to you and let you share some of his burdens, you were happy.
But as of recently, it seemed that he couldn’t even do that.
Gone were the nights he would fall into your arms outside the gym doors because he’s been practicing for five hours straight. The walks in the park when neither of you could sleep, ones that ended in his arms on the couch watching some random food network show.
So now, as you leone the couch, void of the warmth you so desperately crave; you can't help but wonder if it was only you who felt the distance between you.
Your door unlocked- just as you thought it would. Your boyfriend slipping through the door, eyes immediately finding your body draped over the end of the sofa. He could still see the dinner you had made, glazing over the dirty dishes, proof he was hours behind when he said he’d be here.
“Tosh? Is there any way we can spend more time together? It feels like it’s been forever since we’ve done something.”
“No. Nationals is arriving soon, I cannot do anything about my schedule. We are spending time together right now.”
If Ushijima was not emotionless; how was it so easy for him to dismiss you?
Did you and Tendou always have a Wednesday movie night?
Ushijima raked his mind for the last time he’d seen this; the last time he was in his dorm on a weeknight. He knew you and the redhead were good friends, close since the first year of high school. He remembered something about a sleepover before you had begun dating and the occasional dinner at some fast-food restaurant.
He understood both your and his love for anime, and the movies alongside. But if he hadn’t known any better, he would assume that it was to two of you dating, not yourself and him.
Clearing his throat, you both glanced from your spot, huddled on the couch, inviting him to sit beside you. It was nice, though he knew nothing about what was happening on screen, something about demons and a little girl along with a boy with boar head overtop his.
The second the credits rolled, you and Tendou engaged in a conversation that he couldn’t even begin to understand. Somehow ending in another plan to go out the next night for a store opening that will have a manga that you both like.
Finally, as Tendou left, you noticed how silent your boyfriend had been since getting there.
“Would you like to come with us, Toshi?” Would he? The ice in his eyes held the answer far before he spoke.
“No. I will be practicing.”
The statement seemed like nothing. A simple retort you’ve heard so many times you could predict what he was going to say before he did. The phrase forced the memories of laying alone on the couch and sitting at restaurants staring at the clock for what felt like-- and really was-- hours a night.
You could count o one hand how many dates that he’s been early too, or even stayed the whole time. That’s even when he accepted your invitation.
Your friend had warned you that you would feel like this, abandoned and thrown to the side. ‘Why do you stay? Clearly, he isn’t treating you right, o find someone who will!’
“Just for a little? We haven’t been out for a while.” you plea, noticing how he was ready to walk away.it felt like ages since you’ve had an actual conversation.
“Y/n, don’t start right now. I am tired, and I have already told you that I am busy. Quite pestering.” pestering? Is that what you meant to him, were you a bother?
Tendou had always reminded you that Wakatoshi wasn’t good at feelings. He didn’t know how to put what he felt into words. You accepted that, you understood that emotions can be harder on some people.
But now, it wasn’t just feeling an word, it was actions. It was the missed dates he never apologized for, the charging past you after practice that he stayed overtime for. It was him turning his back on you before you could respond.
As you turn your eyes catch one of the photos you have taped to your wall, a selfie you and him took during a trip to Harajuku in May. You bought matching bracelets both with small flower charms on each, ‘a symbol of eternal love’, yeah right.
‘If you’re the only one putting in effort, it’s not a relationship, it’s desperation’
Ushijima Wakaothish may not have emotions, but he surely had one.
Jealousy.
Green and far too ugly to acknowledge.
He may not understand the butterflies when you smile or the warms when your hand locks with his, but he knows exactly what the burning in his veins is. The furrow in his brown and deeper frown than normal, he’s jealous, extremely at that.
A fact that anyone who looked at the man could see, his aura radiated exactly what he was feeling, a true sight to behold.
His mind was muddled, what right did Oikawa have to even share the same breath as you, never mind put a hand on you. His mind ran through all of the things he could possibly do right there, he could punch the brown-eye playboy, but then he would be in trouble.
He could make a big scene and yell at him, or he could do nothing, just watch as the Seijoh playing steals your attention. Suddenly he’s thrown into memory, Reon and you chatting at the lunch table. Like you’d been friends for years, the smile that was supposed to only be meant for him plastered on your face.
Then it was Goshiki and his blistered hands that you so dutifully wrapped for him, holding his hand so tenderly that Wakatoshi wondered if it felt like when you held hands with him.
Then to Tendou, your pro-claimed cuddle buddy.
Would it even be worth it to stop Oikawa? Has he already lost you to someone else?
He couldn’t let that happen, not when he still had a chance to keep you.
You were violently ripped from whatever stupid pick-up line Oikawa was spouting by two hands on your hips. Your entire body was pulled into a hard chest as the same two arms cradle you to his.
“Waka-”
“Don’t talk to what’s mine, Oikawa”
You’ve never heard him sound so angry, he practically snarled at the setter, turning the both of you and walking down the hallway to the ext before the brown-haired man ould even retort.
“Toshi are you-”
“Please don't leave me.” Another emotion you’ve never seen from the man, fear.
He was acred, losing you was the end of the world for him. What was he supposed to do if you aren’t there for him? Who will he look at in the crowd to keep him going during the fifth set? There is simply no one that can give him the rush you can.
“I know I’ve been bad, and I’m so so sorry. I can make up for the dates and we can go to the manga store and to dinner whenever you want. We can watch movies after practice and cuddle whenever! Just please don’t leave me for Oikawa!” he pleaded, taking your hands to his, holding you so tightly and yet like you were glass.
“Wakatoshi, I’m not leaving you. Please calm down, I’m not going anywhere.” You move your hands to cup his face, finally taking notice of the tears looming in his eyes.
And you smiled. The smile just for him, taking his head onto your shoulder, slightly rocking back and forth. His hands rubbing along the length of your back.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“I won’t let you.”
tags: @bakugos-cumsock @rinsangel
#ushijima wakatoshi#ushijima x reader#ushijima angst#ushijima x reader angst#ushijima wakatoshi x readder#ushijima wakatoshi x reader angst#oikawa tooru#oikawa angst#oikawa x reader#oikawa x reader angst#oikawa tooru x reader#oikawa tooru x reader angst#haikyuu angst#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x self insert
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