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iamfruitie · 2 years

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In Too Deep Chapter 17

Short Shower

In the next blink, Mad found himself laying on his bathroom floor. He stayed down and watched Mare bounce up to his feet and start going through all of his soaps and other bathing supplies. Mare popped open a bottle and sniffed it, shrugging at the scent and recognizing it as the one Mad used.

“Do you not like the smell of it?” Mad asked, sitting up.

“It smells fine.” Mare sat the bottle back down. “I just like your natural scent more.” He added with a wink and chuckled when that got some red on Mad’s face. Mare loved how easy it was to get him to blush and he always looked so cute with some red on those cheeks.

“What’s my natural scent like?” Mad just got the question out when Mare grabbed him from behind and lifted him up to his feet.

“Sweet,” Mare answered, hugging Mad around the waist and pressing his nose to the crook of his neck.

“Sweet?” Mad unconsciously placed his hands on Mare’s arms, head slightly tilting to the side.

“Almost fruity.” Mare nuzzled against Mad and took a deep inhale. “It’s hard to describe the scent to humans but the best thing I can think of is the smell of watermelons. Like that, fake smell, the gum version that’s easy to pick out.”

“I smell like artificial watermelon?” Mad wasn’t sure how to take that.

“You smell delicious~” Mare added to his point and ran his tongue along Mad’s neck, getting him to shiver. “Takes everything in my to not eat you up and cover you in hickies.”

“What are hickies?” Mad heard Mare chuckle a little.

“Let me see your arm.” Mare lifted his head up and held a hand out and around Mad.

“Okay?” Mad shifted his body a little so he could give Mare his arm, being held to Mare’s chest by his side now.

“Hickies are like little bruises you get some sucking and biting at the skin,” Mare explained, using his thumb to rub under Mad’s wrist, right beneath the visible veins. “Like this.” He pressed his tongue to the skin first before clamping his mouth on it.

“O-Oh.” Mad stammered out the first thing that came to his head. He watched as Mare basically chewed away at his wrist, seeing and feeling his tongue roll around it as well. It didn’t hurt it just felt…interesting.

“There.” Mare took his mouth away, thumb swiping away some of the spit before turning it for Mad to see. “Not the best I can do, but enough for you to get the point.”

“Do they get sore?” Mad lifted his other hand and pushed his fingers against the mark, not feeling any pain.

“Depends.” Mare shrugged. “But the arm isn’t the most fun place to get them.”

“I’m assuming they can happen anywhere with skin?” Mad guessed.

“Yes, but the best places are, the neck-” Mare still held Mad’s arm and had the other lay on top of Mad’s neck, feeling him swallow. “-the chest-” His hand started to slide down, going over Mad’s chest. “-and the thighs~” Mare had his hand go down more and squeezed the inside of Mad’s leg. Mad whimpered at that and squirmed a little. “Now, about this shower. Do you want just a normal causal one, or am I allowed to get a little handsy with you?”

“You-uh-you…” Mad went fully red and he looked at Mare, speaking very softly. “You can get handsy.” That got Mare to perk up and smile.

“Can I?” He chuckled and moved himself and Mad so that Mad had his back against the wall. “Oh Madsy, this is going to be the best shower of your life and you can slap me if I’m wrong.”

“I’d-I’d rather not slap you.” Mad’s hands ended up on Mare’s chest.

“And I’d prefer to not be slapped, so I’ll be sure to make you feel so good, my little scientist.” Mare started kissing Mad’s neck, sliding his hands under the bottom of Mad’s shirt and beginning to slide it up. “Would you like to try to see if you like hickies on the neck or should I save that?”

“We-We can try.” Mad breathed out heavily. Mare only chuckled at that and leaned away enough to slip off Mad’s shirt.

“You’re going to look so good with my marks all over you~” Mare started sucking on a spot, grinning when Mad gasped out at that. God, he was just so sensitive. Mare took his time with making several bruises along Mad’s neck, making it curve in a way akin to a necklace. Mad just panted and gripped Mare’s shirt, head tilted back the whole time. “Good boy.” Mare knew that’d fluster Mad even more and he took that moment to lean away and remove his own shirt.

“M-Mare, I-I-” Mad didn’t know what he wanted to say, he didn’t even know if he actually wanted to say anything. He was getting lost in the moment as Mare’s hands were messing with the front of his pants.

“Yes? What would you like to say?” Mare hummed with a smug look. Loving how easy it was to turn this human’s brain off with simple touches.

“I don’t know.” Mad nervously laughed. “I-uh-I don’t know what to say.”

“Good, I’m working on slowly turning that big brain of yours into mush.” Mare squeezed Mad’s ass with that comment.

“Ah!” Mad gasped out, moving closer to Mare. “Mare!”

“Someone likes that~” Mare teased with another squeeze. Mad only squirmed this time. “You are just the cutest thing.”

“Sh-Shut up.”

“Someone’s bratting again.” Mare gave Mad a little slap on the ass and he watched as Mad stiffened at that, gasping out with almost a moan in it. “Oh? Oh, I am taking note of that.”

“M-Mare, I-I-”

“We’ll play with proper spanking later. You’re far from ready for that.” Mare took Mad’s chin with a hand and leaned into a kiss. He got lost in the kiss for a moment, feeling Mad wrap his arms around him, pulling him into the kiss more. Mad was getting a lot more confident with kisses and Mare felt prideful about that. He was the one that did that.

“Mare, I’m rea-”

“Incoming call from; Jackie.” Hawk’s robotic voice cut Mad off.

“Oh! I should take that.” Mad stepped away, leaving Mare to just stand there and stare at the wall in shock.

Did Mad just leave him for a call from Jackie?

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

Tag List: (Feel free to ask to be added!)

@dungeon-dragons-dragons @justyoursicanon @angst-anonn @damnthedead

#madmare #fruitie writes #nsft

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bottomcyclonus · 3 years

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brainstorm?

YES HIM I LOVE THE HIM HIM 💙💛

First Impression: I could not for the LIFE of me tell him and Chromedome apart

Impression Now: FRUITY LITTLE SCIENTIST HHHG I LOVE HIM IM AHSJDHKADKK

Favorite Moment: Literally any time he's on the page for real though I think Stormy talking about how he hadn't killed anyone with his own hands really stuck me... Like how he chose not to kill for so long and in the face of the one thing he'd been working towards for millennia and he still couldn't do it.... :(

Idea for a story: TOO MANY. I will say I'm currently outlining a new simpatico fic however... 👀

Unpopular Opinion: he may be the biggest simp (tarn and overlord may be big simps, but they didn't invent time travel for Megatron now did they?) But there's so much more to Storm's character than just his gay yearning and silly little briefcase

Favorite Relationship: [CLENCHES TEETH] SIMPATICO.

Favorite Headcanon: He has OCD bc I have OCD, yes I am projecting, no I do not take criticism, yes he does keep his work area Like That for a reason Perceptor please do not touch it or you'll activate the security lasers

#YES THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME DO HIM TY TY TY #i love. this fruity Scientist oh my GOD #anon #askies #brainstorm

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angsty-omi · 3 years

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arms tonite

fuckboy!atsumu miya x fem!reader

genre: angst, unrequited love,

cw: suggestive content, swearing, heartbreak

word count: 1.5 k

Different girl every night and no repeats; that was the rule of law Atsumu Miya lived by. Whether it was Asians, Whites, or Black girls he didn’t discriminate. If they had a beating heart and a pussy then he was set. Hearing about these conquests as his best friend, really made you think ‘wow who’s the poor that let Atsumu put his dick in that night?’ And as you would find it, soon enough it’d be you.

Media portrayal of college students, especially in movies, falsely portrayed college students and gave unrealistic ideas of how they live. These media outlets give impractical ideas of what college students are- intense party seekers, people who have all the time in the world, or just lazy nonworking students who revolve everything around their social lives. This was, by all means not true.

You, and many other diligent college students, can attest to this. The heavy number of finals and research papers due would soon drown you in your sleep. To prevent you from feeling overwhelmed, you always went to him. The one person who could talk your ear off, which though annoying, kept your mind off things, Miya Atsumu. See, Atsumu had the ultimate college experience. The ones that occurred on screen, the ‘intense party seeking’ events where somehow your invite was always lost in the mail. Every Wednesday, you’d always fit him into your schedule for brunch, which mostly consisted of him talking about the ‘new freshman babes’ at the Inarizaki Frat House, and you lived vicariously through him, not because you were envious of his lifestyle, rather, you were just interested in what could’ve been.

“Did you get that Y/N?” Your thoughts were interrupted.

“U-uh, yeah! Of course, I did.” You tried playing it off, but Atsumu could see right through you. He knew all your mannerisms, for example, when you bite your lip, it’s a sign that you’re prepared for a big change or if you handball your T-Shirt, you’re feeling insecure. He could tell you had something weighing in on you, but he decided to ignore your blatant lie and wait for you to tell him.

“So, are you gonna tell how you’ve been doin’?” He lightly asked.

“Yeah, uh life has been hard for me… I guess. It’s just that- with all these finals I am feeling so overwhelmed,” you buried your face in your hands to attempt forgetting about school. Knowing Atsumu, he would just drown out your sorrow, or so you thought. You continued, “I can’t eat, sleep, or you know-,” not even acknowledging the fact you just referred about your inability to get off. Atsumu became was suspiciously quiet.

“What,” you furrowed your eyebrows. “Nothing, Nothing,” he shook his head, chuckling.

“No, seriously what’s so funny?”

“You really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“Ya’ reeeaaaallly want to know?”

“I said yes already, just spit it out,” you irritated with anticipation.

“I could help your little issue down there,” Atsumu grinned. Studying? When has Atsumu Miya ever wanted to study with you? The only reason he got into this school was because he was a D1 athlete. Unless, he turned a new leaf and he chose a path where you don’t slap a ball back and forth because quite frankly you thought that it was risky caree- Oh. That little issue. “You’ve got to be kidding, I would never,” you felt offended. It wasn’t that he was ugly, it was quite the opposite. He had a charming personality, while also being built like a Greek God, and with a face like that it’s no wonder these girls fall for him. However, you felt too prideful to sleep with him. Sure, you may have some underlying feelings for him that you shut down deep inside, but you didn’t want to be treated like a human toy. So, that thought was always out of the question.

“Never say n-” He was interrupted with his corny ringtone.

“Hello?... Yeah, I’m free, right now… Alright, see you then.”

Atsumu always did this, it was like clockwork. He’d bail on you when you clearly were in distress and he could not even prioritize time to listen. He even, left you with the check. Sure, he’d Venmo you afterwards, but it still hurt nonetheless. On the walk back to your dorm, your thoughts were full of cursing Atsumu out for always bailing on you. Holding it in for so long only lasted you so much before you exploded.

That night, Atsumu came over, not even expecting your wrath.

An hour in, and he still couldn’t understand your argument. “Atsumu, if you could just.. I don’t know- not bail on me? Cause you know, it’s common courtesy!” You exclaimed.

“Dude, it was literally just a few times, I don’t know why you’re getting so upset?”

“Upset? Upset? Upset is an understatement. How would you feel if I dropped you for some dick?”

“Like that would ever happen. C’mon, Y/N, you’re acting like my girlfriend and I’m uncomfortable.” He blurted, frustrated that this argument has lasted almost two hours. He just rejected you, and you didn’t even get the chance to even address those feelings.

“Get out.”

“You know I didn’t mean it that way.”

“I don’t care, get out.” You wiped a treacherous tear from your eye. You opened the door, and gestured him to leave. But, he just stood there. Moving over to him in tears, you tried to push him out. Your measly arms were incomparable to his toned abs that he’s built since high school. He grasped your arms, and for a moment you could feel his padded thumb, wiping your cheek. Your faces were only a few inches away. This was your chance to get a taste of him, before he turned into a stranger. You leaned in his lips.

The lack of return made your heart drop. You let go and rambled with apologies,“I-I’m so sorry. Look, I-” He shut you up with another kiss, more passionate than yours. “I told ya’ I could fix that little issue of yours.”

The morning after, you woke up with your body aching in pain. Drool all over your chin, and in disgust, you wiped your mouth and skimmed your calendar. ‘The biomedical final isn’t at 10, it’s at 8-’ whispering to yourself. Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. Then, you slowly gazed at your alarm clock, ‘7:57 AM’ it read.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” you screamed to yourself. Without thinking, you dashed out the door and sped to the testing center. At the entrance, your professor met eyes with you. “Testing entry is closed, I thought you were better than this, Y/N.” Scolding you up and down. I only missed the final by a couple of minutes, why is she shunning me? You thought. But before you could continue, you looked down. There you were, love marks all over, in your panties and an oversized T-shirt to top it off.

You rushed into your dorm, to find the vampire who did this to you. The universe was seemingly against you once more, because on your way over to your bedroom, you slipped on a textbook. How ironic. The loud slam woke him up, making him sit upright. “Oh my God Y/N are you okay?” He said with a concerned look on his face.

“Why the fuck are you still in my bed?”

“Well if you wanna know the details-” He smirked, “No no no, I’m okay,” you interrupted him. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to understand what went on.

You felt blood drip on your upper lip. Both of you just stared in shock. Immediately, he swiped you up, bridal style, and plopped you onto the sink. He stood in between your legs, soaking your nose with numerous amounts of toilet paper. There was a comfortable silence in the air. You know, Atsumu was quite beautiful with his mouth closed. The way the sunlight accentuated his sharp features, with his eyes reflecting a shade of light hazel. In an impulse, you pecked his lips and to your surprise, he reciprocated.

It’s been a month since you’ve been hooking up and it’s become your new normal. As a small treat, you wanted to do surprise.

Prior to this dynamic, as best friends you always had a spare key, which his twin brother made sure of because Atsumu was forgetful. As tacky as it was, you were wearing a trench coat, that covered your bright red two-piece lingerie underneath. Silently twisting the knob, you walked into to his bedroom. The apartment was still clean, signaling that he wasn’t home. In which, gave you enough time to position yourself on his bed. After many awkward attempts of seductive positions, you chose the cross-over leg at the edge of his bed, which accentuated your hips.

You heard his front door open, and his loud voice gave you the signal. You felt relaxed, but it wasn’t until you heard another voice. High-pitched and fruity, it was one of those voices you could tell it’d belong to a pretty girl. You panicked, and mentally scolded yourself for pushing Atsumu to go with a minimalist aesthetic for his bedroom, which left nowhere to hide for you. The knob was opened slightly, where only he could see you. Eye contact was made, and he immediately slammed the door shut.

There was a muffled, “Hey! uh- my room is kind of dirty right now. Let’s go over to yours.” And after, hearing the front door shut, you assumed she complied. In awe, you mentally kicked yourself over and over again. You took off your attire immediately walking into your bedroom, it burned your skin with insecurities and embarrassment. So much for putting yourself out there. Although, what hurt the most was the way his eyes were full of disgust when he saw you.

That night, he knocked at your door. You opened it, thinking it was your food.

Your heart was beating rapidly, because just an hour ago you made a whole scheme of routes to take without seeing him. You coyly responded with, “you’re not my DoorDash,” and tried to close the door. But he blocked it.

“We need to talk,” he said in the most serious tone you’ve personally ever heard from him. How could those words scare you when you’re not in a relationship.

“What was that shit you pulled earlier?” He irritated. You felt so small under his gaze.

“I thought it would’ve been nice,” you mumbled. “Nice? That girl was the president of one of the most notorious sororities. She could’ve seen you.” He yelled, continuously blaming you. The way he viewed her, would never be the way he saw you. You were just a friend who needed a favor, not someone he actually wanted to pursue.

“You know what? Fine, my fault. Sorry that I ruined it, sorry that I showed up, sorry that I even planned it, sorry I ever thought that you saw me more than just a skank, sorry I even called you over that night, and finally, sorry for ever loving-” it just slipped out. His eyes widened, “Finish that sentence, Y/N. If I knew-”

“Knew what? Knew that I loved you, you wouldn’t have gotten involved? Yeah, well it’s too late. You know what? Just get out. I never want to see you again, Miya,” you sobbed, tears flowing down your face freely. Pounding your fists against his chest. His immobility gave you a small sliver of hope.

“I’m not ready, Y/N. I can’t give you what you want.” Conflicted, unbeknownst whether he was talking to you or himself. “But we can still be friends.”

That sentence was the nail in the coffin.

“It hurts to even look at you Atsumu.” Your voice cold. For someone that could read you so well, why did he think that would save your relationship? “I’ll.. be on my way then.” He slowly got up, and turned the knob. Selfishly enough, he made one more glance at you. He embraced this last glance. Did you know you were beautiful? Even with snot, running down your nose. Of course, you didn’t look back, you were too focused on biting your lips.

Atsumu’s face went pale. He knew what sign that meant. And the change was him. You were really set on ghosting him. With the door closed and Atsumu leaning on it, he couldn’t help to question why that made a pang in his heart.

#haikyuu angst #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fluff #atsumu x female reader #atsumu angst #atsumu fluff #atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader

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deimosirl · 3 years

Note

also talk abt ur favorite fictional character pls i like to absorb information

you fucking asked for this *cracks knuckles* OH FUCK I KILLED HIM, sorry for killing ur boyfriend sonic

hank j. wilbleton

i love this murderess bastard (that could also go for every madcom character) A NONBINARY ICON, i may or may not self project on them a little too much (this is what i get for naming myself after them) the self projection includes neurodivergent (they literally do the hand flapies in one incident [forgot the number] so its basically canon) to be more specific this bitch has autism, gender hoarder this piece of shit is a mess so why cant their gender be too? this bitch got scoliosis, source: me, im the bitch with scoliosis, im sorry i cant just stop thinking about stimming hank like omg ERTHTRERTJHTGF

deimos

MY BELOVED, I AM SO SORRY FOR KRINKLES BEING MEAN TO U I LOVE THIS BOY SO MUCH OMG EFDGHGFDSFDGFHGJHGF HIS "there you are" LINE FROM PROJECT NEXUS MAKES ME GO GAY I HAVE SO MUCH GENDER ENVY FROM HIM LIKE DGFHGHTREESRDFRSEAW ALSO HIM AND SANFORD ARE BIG HOMOSEXUALS FOR EACH OTHER THEY ARE T4T UR HONOR ACK COMFORT SHIP AAAAAAALJKGNRERR ALSO DEIMOS ADVENTURE(S) MAKES ME FUCKING WEEP ITS SO HEART BREAKING PLEASE KRINKLES IN PART TWO OF EP 11 LET HIM BE BACK WITH SANFORD AND HAPPY IM BEGGING U

tricky the clown (also dr hoffnar)

this is all based cuz i like clowns /j okay i have no idea why i like funky clown, just something about clown made me go "i love this funnie dude :0)" actually wait that's a lie, hyperactive murderess clown that's it. clown is 100% a fruity mf, speaking of being fruity, jeb and hoffnar are well y'know LIKE BIG OLD Y'KNOW gay old (?) scientist. okay now that im the topic of project nexus so krinkles confirmed it was canon (dont listen to the wiki) but we all know that tricky and hoffnar are the same person but in the main series he turns into a zombie cuz sheriff turns on the importantly drive but like im pretty sure project nexus there's a different explanation of why hes a zombie (idk i need to re-read the wiki page on project nexus) also why the fuck is he a clown, krinkles once this series ends u gotta just explain the lore cuz i have smooth monkey brain

hairdresser octopus/takoyama

i fucking couldn't stop thinking about this man for a long time, like get it u canon fruit octopus YOU HEARD ME CANON RODNEY GREENBLAT CONFIRMED IT WAS CANON THIS IS A WIN FOR THE GAYS OH hes also plural codded witch is nice god if i had my parappa brain rot rn i could go off also im tired sfghgfweghj

BILLY (WHAT)

again based cuz i like clowns /j but like hes just i funnie lil dude i like his voice and how hes drawned in bunny farm funnie clown :0)

bon

he just lil guy when hes not all broken and bleeding, i LOVE how hes drawn and voiced in bunny farm funnie bunny (bunny bunny bunny ur so funnie with ur twitching nose) also this series destroyed my music taste

boozoo

GET IT PEEPAW I LOVE FUNKING DUDE HE IS JUST A DUDE I LOVE HIS VOICE AHH i follow his vc on tiktok, he did i video were people requested things to say in boozoo's voice he sang the time song from dhmis and some one asked him to scream and he just played the clip from boozoo ghost's were mortality just fucking melts him and idk why i just laughed my ass off at that, also in video he relieved he was his vc he showed it off by saying "i want waffle fries" and that been stuck in my head

those are all the ones i can think of atm

#also sorry if this is was off from what u wanted #i just like talking about stuff a like #also take a shot every time u see something red #long post #caps tw #swearing tw #wilbur!#🃏🌈🎭#cabby answers

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rivalsforlife · 3 years

Note

ema for the fic!

actually managed to stay in the word limits this time, who knew that was possible?

----

Romantic Love

“If you think about it, really, all love is is a surge of hormones --”

“-- Oh god --”

“-- primarily oxytocin, along with dopamine and serotonin --”

“Ema,” Kay groaned, burying her face in the back of her shoulder. “Ema. You’re killing me. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll never make a science pun again.”

Ema laughed. “Kay, if you’re never making a science pun again, then I’ll have to break up with you. No hard feelings.”

“A necessary sacrifice, when I spend all day trying to come up with a science-related pick-up line, and all I get in return is a ten minute spiel about hormones --”

“You’re being dramatic, it was literally thirty seconds, if that.”

“Yet it felt like an eternity! Is there a scientific reason behind my girlfriend’s science speeches causing time to slow down?”

Ema slowly turned around with a grin.

Kay’s eyes widened. “Oh no.”

“Well, now that you’ve asked --”

“No!”

“-- you may have heard of the phrase, ‘time flies when you’re having fun’, and this is because a human’s perception of time --”

“I regret asking! I regret asking!”

Ema laughed and continued anyways. She knew, in spite of her staged complaints, Kay was hanging on to every word.

----

Platonic Love

It was no secret that Ema had absolutely hated the Fop at first.

The reasons were simple. For one, he was certainly no Miles Edgeworth, too cheery and showy and dramatic. For another, he’d been the one to disbar Mr. Wright, one of the most respectable men Ema knew. And, though she hadn’t realized this until later, she’d developed some sort of unconscious association between working with Klavier and being a detective instead of a forensic scientist. She resented that, so she resented him.

But still, even when she hated his guts, she saw the haunted and haggard look on his face when she brought him paperwork after the Misham trial, and decided she hated that look more than any of the braggadocious grins before. So she grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to the nearest bar.

She… didn’t really have a plan for after that.

“I… must admit I’m rather surprised you brought me here, Fraulein Detective,” said Klavier, fiddling with the straw of some expensive fruity drink. “Don’t tell me you’ve finally fallen for me?”

He winked. It was such an obvious, pathetic attempt at clinging to his rockstar persona that Ema actually felt bad for him, horror of horrors.

“Only a joke, ja? Please don’t spray me with whatever chemical you’ve whipped up today.”

Ema sighed and set down her drink. “Just shut up. How’re you holding up?”

Klavier tilted his head, clearly puzzled by the first genuine inquiry into his well-being Ema had ever said. Huh. Maybe she did need to be nicer to him. “In truth, I’m not at my best,” he said, in the understatement of the year. “But is that really what you brought me here to ask?”

“What’d you think I brought you for?”

“In all honesty, I’m not sure. I was under the impression that you despise me.” He raised an eyebrow and took another sip of his drink. “So, why?”

Why indeed? … Ema didn’t know. She could confide in him about her sister being in prison, and that sinking horror she felt at sixteen when she realized it would be years until she was being released; but at least Lana was being released, while Kristoph was headed for the death sentence. That was something she couldn’t relate to, and was grateful she couldn’t; and bringing up how she’d gotten slightly luckier with siblings than Klavier did just seemed insensitive.

So she shrugged. “Thought you could use an ear to complain to that couldn’t possibly hate you more, no matter what you say.”

Klavier smiled a genuine smile. “Ja, I see. Thanks, Ema.”

… Hm. Surprisingly, he didn’t seem so insufferable after all.

----

Familial Love

Ema and Lana sat in the hospital room together, Ema on the bed and Lana in the chair right next to her. Ema hadn’t been hurt, not physically, though it was a close call; still, Lana had called for an ambulance, just in case.

Ema was still struggling to process the events of the last few hours. She’d been waiting in her sister’s office. A man had come in to the office. She’d asked who he was, and if he was looking for her sister, because she was currently interrogating a suspect. It was raining. The man pulled out a knife.

That’s when things got fuzzier. Another man ran in, one of Lana’s co-workers. They’d fought. The room went dark. Ema wanted to make them stop. Ema tried to make them stop, she’d ran in, she’d pushed --

“Ema.”

The hand on her shoulder made her jump; but it was only her sister’s. Lana released her. “Are you cold? Do you need another blanket?”

Ema opened her mouth to answer but no words came out. She felt dizzy and her chest was tight, Lana was talking to her but she couldn’t hear and she couldn’t breathe, maybe she had been hurt, maybe the guy with the knife had stabbed her, and they just didn’t know, and her heart monitor was going so fast, and Lana was still talking to her and Ema still couldn’t hear and --

“Ema, please listen to me, I’m right here, you’re safe.” There were nurses behind her sister with more blankets. One of them had an oxygen mask. Was she dying? “Ema, Ema, breathe with me, okay? Just a little bit… slowly… okay…? Like this…”

Ema tried to obey, but everything was turning fuzzy and dark around her, and she was dying, so it was difficult. Lana kept encouraging her, gently, not touching her. The nurse with the oxygen mask placed it near her face, and it made it a little easier to breathe. Slowly, slowly, her breathing evened out, and everything stopped hurting so much. Maybe she wasn’t dying after all.

“You’re doing great, Ema,” Lana continued, even when Ema had her breathing matched. “You’re doing so good. I promise you’re safe here. No one is ever going to hurt you ever again.”

There was a cold, hard light in her eyes at those words, one which might have worried Ema, and one that she would think of often over the next two years. In that moment, though, she clung to those words, and was simply grateful her sister was there.

#valentines shorts #faraskye again #asks #my writing

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puckyeahobx · 4 years

Text

rafe cameron blurb #1

a/n: i love rafe cameron he did nothing wrong and i will continue writing about him until i die. this is very nsfw...you have been warned (NOT MY GIF)

summary: y/n and rafe end up at a party together and y/n notices something is off with our favorite coke whore rafe cameron <3

You didn’t really love the morals that came with the Kook lifestyle, but you knew it was pretty much as close to your college party habits that you were capable of getting to at your parent’s OBX house

If there was one thing that made coming home for vacations worth it, it was Rafe Cameron’s legendary parties

You weren’t from around OBX even before college, but your parents have always brought you down to the beach house for at least a month during summer vacations, for as long as you could remember. All of the Figure Eight adults were friendly in a weird passive aggressive way, which usually meant the kids were too. Rafe was your age so you guys naturally gravitated towards each other. You didn’t have much in common, but he thought you were funny and didn’t let any of his friends hit on you which you appreciated. You just thought he was plain sexy.

It was really hard watching him slowly descend into this empty version of Rafe that you saw at the first party of the summer because he was so different than the Rafe you grew up with

He was always a little intense, but it was always because of how he needed things to go right. From sand castles at age 9 to boat races at age 16 to shotgunning PBR after PBR at age 18, he always had to be the best. You had heard his dad probably had a lot to do with it, but he would never in a million years admit it.

At age 20, though, his new thing was cocain, which you didn’t love

After only two weeks back in the outer banks, you were able to draw a direct correlation between how much coke Rafe had in his system and how intolerable he acted towards the pogues. The one thing you always hated about Rafe and his friends, and the whole island to be honest, was the unnecessary class war. It made you sick.

But when illicit drugs weren’t involved, you saw that Rafe was still just Rafe which made you even more sad. Why would he want to be anyone else?

You were currently pressed against the wall of the Cameron basement, convinced that the red led lights were going to damage your corneas permanently, as some music you only liked when you were under the influence blared from the speakers. But none of that mattered because you could not stop staring at Rafe.

He was doing his normal host rounds, making sure everyone was drinking and that all of the girls were personally greeted by him, but he seemed way further away. Something more than alcohol.

This went on for about three hours, you pretending to be interested in conversations and his other cronies trying to get a piece of you, and you saw him disappear into the bathroom two separate times. Each time he came out he was wiping his nose. It didn’t take a rocket scientist.

As you saw him make a beeline for round three, you swallowed down the rest of whatever fruity thing you had in your cup and followed him before anyone else could. You barely got through the bathroom door before he slammed it in your face.

“Rafe, it’s just me” You say as you caught the door, sliding yourself through the gap in the door frame, closing it and locking it behind you.

“Shit, Y/N, you can’t sneak up on me like that…” he trailed off while he gave you a once over, “Damn you look good tonight.”

You exhale, looking down and laughing sarcastically, “Sure it’s not the coke talking?”

He looks back at you incredulously until he finally decide to scoff, “C’mon Y/N relax it’s nothing”

“No! I’m not going to relax! This is your third trip tonight-”

“Damn Y/N I didn’t realize you were keeping tabs on me. Does someone have a crush?”

“-Your third trip tonight,” you talk over him, rolling your eyes and ignoring what he said, “That’s not nothing.”

“It’s a fucking party what is your problem?” You could tell he was about to blow. Another side effect of this new habit of his was his shortened fuse on a circuit that was already pretty short.

He seemed to forget, however, that he wasn’t the only one with a temper. “Oh I’m sorry you’re right. It’s a party. I’m just being unreasonable. Tell me this though, if this is just a party, then what was that on the boat yesterday? Did you really think I wasn’t going to notice you snorting up a whole fucking line in broad daylight on a 12x12 speed boat?”

He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and turned to face the mirror, his fists slamming on the kitchen sink, his eyes clenched shut.

“What the fuck do you want me to say, Y/N? Want me to offer you some next time?” He looks back at you through the mirror, his lips pursed in a tight line against his face, jaw clenched. “Sorry I’m not the same little bitch you used to build sand castles with or whatever the fuck. People grow up and they change. This is who I am,” he paused, “No one is making you be around me so if that’s not good enough for you, you know where the fucking door is.” He looked back down at the sink before quickly moving his hand down to his pants pocket, fishing a tiny little ziploc bag out of his god awful khaki shorts.

Before he could get any further, you closed the gap between your bodies and smacked the bag out of his hand, making the contents spill all over the floor.

Hardly believing what you had just done, you looked up at him with your mouth agape and your eyes wide. To be honest, you were a little afraid of what he was going to do or say.

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FUCKING FOR Y/N?” He didn’t get in your face like he does with everyone else, but he was definitely pissed.

“I- I just… I just hate seeing you like this,” your voice was smaller than you had hoped for, and you were barely able to look up at him through your eyelashes.

He huffed and rolled his eyes, running his hands through his hair again, “Well, I can’t really think of a better alternative for you so maybe you should just stop hanging around me. I already told you, Y/N, this is me now! I’m the guy people call when they need something. Sure it’s blow but at least they’re fucking calling.”

“Is that who you really want to be though, Rafe? Like actually? Those people don’t care about you. They’re too busy being off their shits to care about you. You’re seriously unhinged if you think that this is the best that life can get.”

“If they don’t care about me then who the fuck does, Y/N?! Huh! You don’t get it. You-you you’re perfect. People fucking love you, no strings attached. They always have.”

He looked just like the boy you once knew in that moment. With his hands running through his hair and his breath uneven, you recognized this side of Rafe. The lost little boy trying to sneak into your bedroom window after the weekly fight with Ward. Your heart was practically ripping through your skeleton, your skin, your bikini top to get to him.

“Rafe…” you reached for him but he just pulled his arm away, shaking his head.

“Save the pity party Y/N and get back to the party. I heard Kelce was planning on finally making his move on you tonight,” he laughed in spite of himself.

Now it was time to shake your head,“I don’t want to go back to the party. I want to be here, with you.” He looked at you with that same lost boy look and you rest your hand on one of his cheeks and if this wasn’t the big, bad Rafe you were talking about, you might have thought that you felt him lean into your touch.

“People do love you, by the way. People do care.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you tested the waters of his temper, a thumb lightly tracing the laugh lines on his face.

He put a hand on top of yours and held on tight, “You don’t count.”

“And why is that? I feel like I might be the only one that actually knows you. I think my opinion counts greatly.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, pushing your hand off his face again.

Annoyed at his stubborn attitude, you decided to be more direct in your approach.

You wrapped your arms around the back of your neck and stood up on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “And my opinion is that you were already pretty fucking amazing before.” You paused, letting your hot breath linger on his neck, loving the way his breath hitched. “Let me prove it to you.”

He immediately wrapped his arms and hands under your ass, lifting you onto the counter in front of him. Your arms were still wrapped around his neck, you both paused for a second once you were seated in front of him, legs spread so he could stand between them. Then he was kissing you and it was the most amazing feeling you had ever felt.

His hands fell to your thighs as he pressed into you. Both of you being stubborn, there was a power struggle between your mouths as he tried to claim you. You weren’t going to let him off that easy, however, and you started pulling at his hair and nipping your way down his neck as he kneaded your ass with this big hands. Amazing how strong they were considered he had never done a day of work in his life.

Moving back to his lips he interrupted the hottest makeout session of your life and looked down at you, eyes dark with want. “Get on your fucking knees.”

Without a word you did what you were told, not breaking eye contact the whole way down to the ground. You waited for further instructions.

“You wanted to prove it to me, huh?”

You nod sweetly.

“Go on then, baby. Show me what you’ve got.”

You unzip his shorts and tease him with your hand and mouth through his boxers, loving the sounds he made as you did so. He was trying so hard to keep it underwraps how undone he already was, but that just made him sound all the more desperate for you.

His hand was in your hair from the get go, ready to show you exactly how he wanted it, so the rest came pretty easy. The grip on your hair never once lightened as he switched from guiding your head up and down at a leisurely pace to holding it in place as he took control with a much more punishing one. He made sure not to go too rough though, never once making you gag - a very impressive feat for someone of his size.

The whole time he was muttering little praises that you weren’t even sure he was aware he was saying: “God, fuck, baby you take it so good”, “Look so pretty like that”, “Good girl”.

You never thought that being on your hands in knees on top of scattered cocaine residue with your childhood best friend’s cock in your mouth would be such a turn on, but you couldn’t take much more. Soon enough your resolve was crumbling as you fumbled with the button and zipper on your shorts, desperately trying to push them down enough so you could get a hand down there to release some of the pressure that had been building since you locked the bathroom door.

Just when you were about to start bringing yourself off, he stopped suddenly, pulling yourself off of him and up to your feet. “What do you think you’re doing?”

All you could do was stutter nervously, sure that you had never been redder in the face in your entire life.

Before you could come up with something to say, you were spun around with your stomach pressed against the counter top, Rafe still hot and hard against your back. He had put his hands back in your hair and he was looking at you through the mirror.

“Fuck that, Y/N. You said you wanted to prove how much you liked me. Cared about me,” his hand started travelling down the front of your body as he whispered in your ear, “I’m going to be the only one making you cum, do you understand me?”

Suddenly forgetting how to speak, you nod furiously. He chuckles deeply into your ear as he pushes your shorts and underwear down in one swoop, replacing the cotton material of your panties with his hand.

He had barely touched you and you were already reaching around you, threading your fingers in his hair as he held on tightly to yours. Your eyes screwed shut and your mouth flew open as he started with a harsh rhythm that wouldn’t have worked for anyone other than him. You were already so ready for anything he was going to throw at you.

Between the way he was finger fucking you and the constant praises in your ear, it didn’t take long for you to release all over his hand, making him growl.

He gave you almost no time to recover before he grabbed you around the neck, not choking, just holding you there, and forced you to make eye contact with him again.

“I’m going to fuck you now and you’re going to watch how I’m making you feel in that mirror. I want you to watch me make you cum again. I want you to remember that no one else is this good for you. Do you understand?”

You whimper, nod, and tug on his hair once more, not even caring how desperate you seemed.

Without another warning, he pushed himself as far inside as he could, bottoming out and making you both moan. Your eyes already were rolling back but then he tugged on your hair again, making sure you were looking directly towards the mirror.

“That’s it, Y/N take that dick just like that. Look how pretty you look bent over this sink for me with all of our friends on the other side of the door. Are you going to scream for them? So they know exactly who makes you feel like this?”

You had no idea how he was able to form coherent sentences when he was a) probably still high as fuck and b) fucking you that good, because all you were able to do in response was let out the most pathetic whine as he created a whole new angle by moving one of your knees to rest on the counter. It was almost too much.

It was hands down the best sex of your life and you couldn’t tell it was because of how many years you had spent wanting him, the alcohol in your system, or if it was really because he was just that good, but you were willing to place some serious money on the latter.

Just when you were about to start crying from how good it felt, he started going even harder, losing the rhythm he had set. His dirty talk got less and less coherent as he slowly descended into orgasmic bliss, making sure to take you with him. Just as you had promised, you looked into his eyes through the mirror as you fell over that edge. Your entire body was trembling by the time he finished, placing kisses on the back of your neck and shoulders.

He dropped the leg of yours that he had been holding up and you almost fell over without his strength holding you up. He had really done a number on you.

You were trying to come back to your body still when you felt him nudge the side of your arm. Startled, you looked down and he had your shorts and underwear.

“Um..here, I’ll turn around if you want,” he said as he turned around after setting the clothes on the counter in front of you. You wondered how long you had been standing there post-orgasm because he was already re-dressed.

“Oh, uh, thanks.” You quickly got redressed and laughed at him facing the opposite wall, “I’m decent.”

He turned back around and looked at you brightly, the most sober he had looked all summer, actually.

You both looked at each other nervously and laughed, not knowing where to go from here.

“That was, uh, that was really fucking fantastic,” he said through a laugh, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, “I’m not really sure what happened but I’m glad it did. I’ve been trying to make a move on you for years.”

“To be fair, I think I’m technically the one that made the move.”

He closed the gap between your bodies again and put his hands on either side of the counter behind you, “Details, details.”

You looked from his eyes to his lips and back again, remembering what had brought that on in the first place. “I really do care about you, you know.” It was barely a whisper.

He brought a hand up to brush some hair out of your face as he sighed, “I know you do.”

“Next time you want to do something reckless like that again just call me. We can get through this.”

“I mean between that and drugs I will pick that any day.” You could tell he was trying to make a joke but it just made you sad.

You cup his face in your hands once more, “I’m serious. You don’t have to be that guy. I’ve liked the other one for a very long time and I don’t appreciate this new one barging in and scaring me.”

Smiling softly, he grabs one of our hands again and kisses the pads of your finger tips, “I think you might be the only one the other guy was good enough for, Y/N.”

“I thought I just proved that my opinion was the only one that counted.”

“Is that what that was all about? I thought it had more to do with my raw animal magnetism,” he laughed and shook his head at you.

“Hmmmm that was definitely a part of it.” You couldn’t help it, you started leaning towards him again.

He was merely an inch away, a smile bright on his face and “I fucking knew it” falling off his tongue when there came a bang on the door.

A deep voice you didn’t recognize followed: “THERE’S A FUCKING LINE ASSHOLES.”

You looked at each other and laughed one more time, both of your necks and cheeks growing rosie with embarrassment. But embarrassment be damned, you had a happy Rafe back at last.

#rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #outerbanks fanfiction #outer banks #obx #obx fanfiction #rafemaybank wrote this

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isa-ghost · 5 years

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Hi I’m gonna just,,, gush here for a moment-

I’m personally really not a big fan of “make [ego] canonically evil/etc” stuff, I like to stick to keeping those things in AUs bc then our imaginations can just go fuckin WILD and anyone that dislikes/feels uncomfortable with those headcanons won’t be bothered by it being canon. HOWEVER, the bunker!egos actually fucking LOVE seeing that kinda shit, AU and not. At the end of the day, they know themselves better than we do, and they love to see what we think up for them.

Marvin especially is super touched at all the different portrayals we have of him because all that exists is his birth video, and yet we put so much love and thought into him all on our own. He’s personally really fond of “mysterious chaotic neutral, morally grey badass” and “borderline magical girl anime thot that’d hex you for a quarter.” Both of those have become big parts of his personality tbh. Despite the flood of headcanons about him being evil giving him some thoughts and urges he’s not okay with, the fact that we care so much that it’s popular enough to actually effect him speaks volumes about how much the community cares about him and it makes him really Soft(tm) for the community.

Even Jackie likes seeing AUs and “what if” posts about him snapping or turning on everyone because there are days he feels so worthless or so outnumbered that the idea comes to mind. He also likes seeing how many different ways we can make him a hero aside from stereotypical superhero things. Not to mention Anti has put him through so many different traumas that nothing we think up to put Jackie through could scar him worse (though I have some mutuals that would totally consider that a challenge XD Please don’t). His favorite thing isn’t headcanons or “what if” posts though, he absolutely lives for angst art and fics of him, bonus if he gets to beat Anti up or do smth way more fucked up than Anti would and thus show him up. Jackie THRIVES off “Jackie Is Not A Perfect Flawless Lawful Good Boy” stuff, because he’s super hard on himself and has a lot of guilt and next to no confidence in himself, so seeing people expect less than Absolutely Virtuous things out of him eases his psyche a bit. Though he’s not always a huge fan of these sort of posts about his brothers, especially Chase, but that’s just because he’s Big Brother(tm).

Henrik? Oh my god Henrik absolutely OWNS the shit we come up with for him. He despises the “he’s a failure” / “he’s working with Anti” stuff about August 3rd because of how personal and traumatic it was for him, but even the “working with Anti” stuff he’ll spitefully joke about. But the feral doctor/mad scientist stuff? He practically struts around about it. Like Fuck Yeah I Might Sell One Of Your Kidneys For A Fruity Drink, What Of It Bitch?? It also really means a lot to him we’re so fond of how Not Completely Sane he is because he’s hugely self-conscious of it and worries regularly he’ll harm someone he cares about. Seeing us so in love with the concept that he’s a little bit or moderately crazy entertains him a lot. He also, despite not going actually on vacation contrary to some of our beliefs and actually being trapped/tortured for months, finds it fucking HILARIOUS we say he went on vacation, and even funnier that we’ve drawn him in Hawaiian shirts so often for “vacation” art that he literally has a bunch appearing in his closet.

Chase is a bit more sensitive to some of the stuff we make just because a lot of the substance we have to use to create things based around him is emotional for him, traumatic or not. But he still likes to see our ideas. He especially loves all our different interpretations of his kids, being that they and Stacy aren’t actually real. There’s a select few ideas he’s not fond of at all, but he just ignores them and lets us do our thing because he doesn’t want to police anybody. Even if he doesn’t like them, they still fuel him to be the best he can be, so even those ideas help him to a degree. He has a weakness for the super skilled assassin/sniper stuff honestly. He’s training himself along with Jackie’s help to try and get that skilled with weapons, and he hopes at some point if he gets that good he can record a thing of him so we can see what he did for us.

Jameson probably has the most fun of all of them with all our different interpretations because even HE doesn’t know too much about himself because he’s just such a wild card full of so much potential until Sean spills some more tea about him. He’s super partial to the time traveler, mob boss, assassin, and Marvin’s assistant in magic ideas we’ve made up. At this point even though he hates the “he’s a puppet” stuff, he’s grown numb to it and knows he isn’t one, so he just lets us explore the concept. If anything, our interpretations of it help him make up plans for what to do if he does get strung up and how to protect himself from Anti.

TLDR; The bunker!egos adore morally grey/Not Good Aligned stuff we come up with for them and even some of the ones they don’t like still help them in some way. As long as we aren’t hoping they die or hurt/kill each other, they’re all for whatever crazy creative shit we think up.

#bunker 88720 #septicegos #jackieboy man #marvin the magnificent #henrik von schneeplestein #dr schneeplestein #chase brody #jameson jackson

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lemonsandstrawberries · 6 years

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Fancy

fandom: Stony (Steve x Tony)

summary: Tony and Steve are getting ready for bed and Tony has a question, which gets Steve in a playful mood.

length: 1 080 words

a/n: needed something sweet and cuddly between them. and Tony and Steve cuddling and goofing around in bed in calm, happy atmosphere is like one of my favorite things ever. hope you like it!

—————

Fancy

BOUNCE!

Steve looked up from his book, feeling an impact as someone jumped on the bed with full force, causing the bed frame to creak. One day, such running starts would cause trouble when the bed frame would finally give up and send them both crashing to the floor. It wasn't in the best state to start with, from all of their heated nights, and such behavior was not helping. He put his book aside, smiling from ear to ear at the person in front of him.

"What's up, cutie pie?" Steve asked humorously, a bright smile shining among a dark beard. With time, Steve grew used to his new look and didn't feel the need to shave anymore. It was more practical.

"Not much," Tony hummed back. He was freshly out of the shower, with his skin still a little damp and glowing, and hair curling funnily as it was air-drying. Somehow, Tony didn't have a need to sleep in pajamas, and he had only a towel wrapped around his hips for modesty reasons, but soon enough he would drop it too and match Steve in terms of nakedness under the covers. "I have a surprise for you," he murmured enticingly, looking at Steve through lowered eyelashes. Well, it didn't hurt to flirt a little with the person one was dating for almost six years.

"What is it?" Steve asked, grimacing horribly before Tony could answer. "Oh God, is it one of those surprises when you leave the bathroom and I go after you and I am dying, because you said that it is safe and in reality you stunk up the whole place?"

"WHAT?!" Tony yelped in outrage, giggling the next second. "No! And it is not me who does that, but you!!" he pointed out and Steve laughed together with his boyfriend. "It is not funny, Steve! You are like a biological weapon!"

"What is it then?" Steve asked, but he was ignored as Tony's mind got set on that one particular topic and he proceeded to tell a whole story as once he had walked into the bathroom after Steve and Steve deceitfully locked him in and Tony had to scream for Friday to put air ventilation on full blast, while blond was hollering with laughter. "Babe, focus!" Steve snapped his fingers, even if he enjoyed such crass humor and stories, and Tony did too, not that they would admit to it publicly.

"Oh yeah," Tony's smile was back on and he reached his forearm in soldier's direction. "Smell it."

Steve moved a little closer and sniffled at the tanned skin, his eyes crinkling from a smile, as he saw that Tony already started to giggle quietly. As for someone who could go for days without a proper shower during his crazy scientist days, Tony really loved all kinds of bath related cosmetics. Fancy soaps, scented body gels, squishy shower jellies… You named it, and Tony probably already had it in his collection in twenty different scents. The day Tony introduced Steve to bath bombs was life changing and the custom-made Captain America bath bomb, in a calm blue color with a white star on top, that smelled of apple pie and cinnamon, was one of the best gifts Steve had ever received.

"Huh," Steve mused out, dragging his nose over the offered skin, not sure of what he was smelling. It was a bit sweet and very distantly familiar.

"Soo? What is it?" Tony asked, his smile growing both from the mystery and the pleasant tickle.

"Uhhmmm… Bubble gum?" Steve asked, taking a deep breath in.

"Bubble gum?!" Tony repeated in outrage, snapping his hand away and smelling himself, just to make sure. Steve laughed a bit at that. "Are you serious now?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

Steve shrugged. "Yeah. You smell like bubble gum."

Tony made an appalled face at such blunt display of ignorance. "Boo, it is monoi oil, you caveman!"

"A what?" Steve asked, making room for Tony as the brunet started to wriggle under the covers, taking his place and acting as a small spoon to Steve. Just as they liked it.

"Monoi oil," Tony repeated, sounding a bit smug. "It is Tahitian gardenias soaked in coconut oil."

"Sounds fancy," Steve smiled, wrapping arms around Tony naked frame and locking their legs in place. He reached his hand and turned the lights off, getting ready for sleep.

"It is fancy," Tony confirmed, nodding enthusiastically.

"Fancy like you."

More enthusiastic nodding.

"But, you still smell like bubble gum."

"Hey!" Tony complained, and Steve laughed into brunet's bubble gum smelling neck. Maybe there was some subtle floral note, but still, mostly fruity and sugary. Steve quite enjoyed it.

"You know, monoi oil is actually great for facial hair," Tony changed the topic, moving his hand up and scrubbing fingers through Steve's rough chin. "You could use it to make your beard softer."

"Nah," Steve smiled, enjoying the affection, but not seeing himself rubbing any kind of product into his beard. Soap and deodorant were all cosmetics he needed. "I will let you keep the whole oil for yourself, Bubble Gum."

There was some growling sound deep in Tony's throat at the affectionate nickname, but Steve didn't get discouraged. Even so, it gave him an idea.

"Wonder if you also taste like bubble gum."

"Wha-NO!" Tony laughed when the hold around him tightened and soft lips sucked to his neck, kissing and nibbling. "GAAAHIHIHIHIHI!!"

"You don't taste like bubble gum, but you are definitely chewable."

"Nohohoho! Stop!" Tony giggled, trying to wriggle out of the embrace as lips and teeth gnawed playfully on his skin. "Steheheve!!"

"Wonder if I can blow some bubbles too!"

"PPFFF!! HIHIHIHI!!" Tony wriggled and kicked the best he could while still wrapped in Steve's hold, when some small raspberries were blown in a straight line down his neck, from the ear to the collarbone. "HIHIHI STEHEHEVE!" Tony kept laughing, trying to curl and hide into his shoulders, but somehow Steve always found an opening to lightly gnaw and blow raspberries and Tony was going absolutely crazy. Or so he thought until Steve used his rough stubble to scrub all over his neck, and Tony could only laugh and laugh, hearing the bed frame creak ominously and hoping for it to break and save him. He didn't have any luck, though.

#stony #steve x tony #stevetony #superhusbands #fanfic #fanfiction #tickle fic #tony stark is ticklish #tony stark #steve rogers #bearded!steve #my headcanon is that steve and tony have to buy a new bed like every other month #they use them up quickly #because reasons #also i have monoi oli #it smells like bubble gum in my opinion

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ziskandra · 7 years

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so @aceryder was one of the recipients of my 100 follower fic giveaway and requested: ryder x liam where the two of them meet at in a bar in london before the arks leave for the milky way and really hit it off together. ao3 link. and, well, here’s the story :~) Summary: Two weeks before the arks leave for Andromeda, Liv Ryder meets a handsome man named Liam at the bar. Too bad they’ll never see each other again. Near Morning

Olivia will never get used to the feeling of solid ground under her boots. She’s a spacer, through-and-through. Before Mom had taken her final turn for the worst and she and her brother and her dad had all relocated to Earth, she doesn’t recall a time when she’d ever spent more than three months planet-side at a time. Now, it’s going on six, Mom’s dead, and the final preparations for the Andromeda Initiative have been set. Two more weeks, and it’s bye-bye Milky Way, hello, new home.

She can’t lie to herself, though. She knows they’re really just running away from something. Might even be the same thing, in the end.

Dad had spent so much time working on his pet project — his SAM —and for what? Nothing but bitter disappointment, which tasted suspiciously like the crumbly little sandwiches they’d served at Mom’s wake.

Oscar — well, her brother hadn’t changed much. He’d always been the type to get swept up in the events around him. Had signed up for the Alliance more out of a lack of anything else to do, rather than genuine passion, and when he’d found his progression blocked by bad blood, well. Who could blame him for wanting to go somewhere, be somewhere, where he could do something that mattered?

And for Liv herself? Well, Mom’s dead, and she’s the one keeping this family together in her stead. She likes her life in this galaxy well enough, honestly, but she can’t just let her dad and her brother fuck off without her, so.

New home. It’s a hell of a move. Anything’s got to be better than being stuck in London indefinitely though; the sky just keeps pissing on her, and the pollution’s so bad it hurts to breathe.

Good bars, though. Men that are attractive enough to flirt with, if not more. But she usually just goes to drink. Starts off with lager before working her way up to whiskey. Serving in the Alliance has taught her how to handle her alcohol.

Tonight she’s checking out some new fancy place with one of her old Alliance squadmates who happens to be on shore leave. It’s going to be full of posh wankers, she’s sure; they make their drinks with off-world ice, of course it is. Liv’s shouting — she’s been keeping mum about what’s actually happening in the next few weeks, but she’s reassured Ellie that she won’t need the money where she’s going. Laughs when she tells her, because it’s such a goddamn understatement.

***

The bar is dark and the drinks are overrated, but all-in-all, it lives up to Olivia’s expectations. The music’s not exactly her scene, but it’s danceable enough, and it’s not like Ellie has ever let anything like appropriateness get in the way of having a good time. To put it simply: Eleanor Rodrigues is the kind of friend you want to have when you just want to keep your mind off things, and after everything Liv’s been through lately? Ellie is probably, quite honestly, one of her best friends. They’d bonded over their passion for Prothean technology, but where Liv’s love of science is secondary to her love of being able to shoot a target from several hundred meters with pinpoint precision, Ellie is a scientist first and a scant five-foot-tall surprisingly scary biotic second.

Mostly, though, she’s just a terrifying and ferocious dancer and it often gets her into trouble. She’s flailing her arms on the edge of the dance floor just adjacent to the main path to the bar when her elbow connects heavily with someone’s ribcage, spilling one of the too-expensive drinks over the both of them. “Oh, fuck, fuck, I’m so sorry!” Ellie exclaims with drunken exuberance, clasping a hand to her mouth, the other reaching for the accosted man’s wrist. “My friend Livvy here – she’ll get you another drink.”

So, okay, two things:

One: Eleanor has had way too much to drink if she thinks she can get away with calling her Livvy.

Two: The man looks at her, smiles, and fuck it if she doesn’t go weak at the knees. Dark skin, beautiful hair, and he fills out a polo shirt like nobody’s business. God damn. But those are only distant observations. That smile could light a room on fire, but what gets her is the eyes. Brown, open, inviting, honest. Seemingly incapable of giving a shit about the fact that he’s now covered in fruity cocktail residue.

The man cants his head. “Does Livvy mind buying me a drink?”

She groans, but doesn’t correct him. The first stunningly attractive man she’s laid eyes on in the past month? Can call her whatever the hell he wants. “Please,” she basically insists, “allow me.” Her voice is low and awkwardly husky to her own ears. So, yeah. She’s a bit buzzed. Sue her.

***

They’re sitting at the bar, stools too close to each other, knees touching. Liv’s keeping one eye out on Ellie, who’s gone back to sharing her chaotic dancing with the world. “Should we be worried about her?” the man asks, following her gaze to her friend’s flailing elbows and knees.

“She’ll be fine,” Liv answers over the rim of her own drink. “Probably.” Which explains why she’s still watching out for her.

The man shakes his head, and laughs. It’s the kind of laugh that warms her from the inside out. Deep and rich, genuinely amused. She wants to make him laugh again. “She’s terrible,” he starts, and when Liv’s brows knit as though to glare at him, he hastily adds, “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Why’s that?” she asks, heart thrumming erratically in her chest. They’ve almost finished the drink she’d owed him, the pleasantry. She hopes he’ll let her by him another.

“Because I wouldn’t have met you,” he answers, corner of his mouth curling into a smile as he finishes off the remainder of his drink in one long gulp.

It’s a level of smooth Liv can only hope to aspire to. She rolls her eyes, but can’t quite keep her own smile off her face as she drains her own cup. “You hardly even know me,” she complains.

“Yet,” he adds, and Liv feels the warmth in her skin rise to her face.

***

Olivia learns over the course of their next drink or two that the handsome man’s name is Liam and that he’s finishing up his work in a crisis-response unit before moving onto a new top-secret hush-hush mission. She could pry, because she has half a mind that he’s joking, what with the twinkle in his eye and all, but instead she tells him that she understands, because she’s basically in the same position herself.

“Alliance?” he asks, gaze roving over the muscles in her arms that her tight-fitting jacket does nothing to disguise. Some men, she knows, are intimidated by her. Not Liam.

“Not anymore,” she answers, and she can’t quite keep the pang of sadness that comes with the clarification out of her voice.

He reaches across the counter to place a reassuring hand upon her forearm. “But from what you’ve said, you’re moving onto bigger and better things.”

“Yeah,” she answers, feeling her throat seize up the way if often does when she’s vulnerable and thinks about Andromeda for too long. “That’s one way of putting it.” She cants her head, tries to dislodge the buzzing feeling she’s starting to get in the very centre of her skull. “I get the feeling you’re not usually one for us military types.”

Liam’s hand skims down her arm until his fingers are resting upon hers. “Not usually,” he murmurs in easy agreement.

Something twists deep inside her gut. Can’t quite stop herself from asking, “Then why me?” She’s staring at him more intently than she probably should, and he shuffles back in his chair slightly in response, but still doesn’t remove his hand.

With a deep, whittling exhale, he answers, “You’re easy to talk to,” he says, running a thumb along her skin. “And I like that. But I can’t promise anything long-term. Serious. You know what I mean.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Not usually why I go about trying to pick up strange men in bars, Liam.”

“I know, I know—" he starts, almost defensively, before interrupting up himself. “Hold up. You’re trying to pick me up?”

Their eyes meet, and she swears to God that she can almost feel the electricity spark between them. Oscar had complained to her on occasion about the thrum of static he feels when he passes another trained biotic. She wonders if it feels anything like this.

Liam’s gaze flickers down to her lips, then back up to her eyes. As she leans in to kiss him, she realises the answer is yes.

***

She’d made sure that Ellie was safe and had a way back to her hotel before leaving the bar. Ellie had mostly been preoccupied anyway but it never hurt to check. ‘You know where to find me if you need me’ Liv had told her with a tap of her omintool, but Ellie had waved her off. Her parting words had been, “Go get ‘em, corporal!” and Liv hadn’t had the heart to correct her.

She also taps out a quick message to Oscar, just in case.

Liv: Probably not home tonight. Don’t wait up. :) ;)

His response is almost instantaneous.

Oscar: those emoticons add more info than i care to know about

Oscar: but GOOD i’m glad. be safe!!

“Who are you messaging?” Liam asks as they huddle under his umbrella together. He’d brought an umbrella to a bar. She likes a man who comes prepared.

“My brother,” she says, and at the look he gives her, she quickly adds, “younger brother. Just letting him know that I won’t be home.” And damn if her face still doesn’t flush at the implications of that sentence. It’s been way too long since she’s last done this, she’s super out of practice.

“I’m not keeping you away from any babysitting duties, am I?” Liam asks in a tone of mostly mock concern. She finds it extremely endearing, the fact that if she told him he was, he’d probably insist on marching her all the way home.

“No, God, no,” she laughs. “He’s twenty-two. A big boy.”

Liam shoots her a skeptical look. “And how old are you? Am I allowed to ask that?”

She swats playfully at his arm. “Ass. Okay. I’m twenty-two, too.” She laughs. English is a funny language. “We’re twins,” she clarifies.

“Because you couldn’t just say that before,” Liam gripes.

“I’m enjoying keeping you on your toes,” she breathes, and he looks down at her, grins, and before she knows it, she’s the one that’s standing on her toes to lean up and kiss him. The umbrella gets knocked out of alignment, Liam’s hair and shirt get drenched and so do her hands, where they’re clinging onto him in those exact same places as though her life depends on it.

“You are going to be the death of me,” he complains when they break apart for air. “I mean, literally, I’m going to get hypothermia and die and the worst part is, I think I’m going to enjoy it.”

She can’t hide the grin that spreads across her face, and she almost just wants to grab him by the cheeks and kiss him again, so instead she shoves her hands down in her pockets so to avoid any temptation to touch and touch and touch.

“Are you sure you’re okay with me coming over?” she asks, hating how uncertain her voice sounds, but— if she has to face rejection, she’d rather now than later.

“I was going to ask you the same thing. But in reverse,” he chuckles. “I warned you: I’m staying with my parents. In my room from when I was a teenager.”

“You have your own room,” she points out, trying not to think too hard about the tiny bedroom she shares with Oscar, two mattresses on the floor, belongings strewn about. She probably could make him sleep in the lounge, but a) she would never live it down, and b) it’s three-quarters filled with decomposing flowers none of them had had the heart to dispose of. And if Dad notices… well, he’s bound to have questions. Better to avoid that mess altogether.

“With a single bed,” he reminds her, but she doesn’t really have it in her heart to care. It’s just one night. It’ll be cozy. And she’d be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t looking forward to them shedding their clothes and getting hot and heavy underneath his covers.

“Still better than what I have,” she grumbles, and he shakes his head.

“It’s fine. I could tell you’re not from around here.”

“Did the accent give me away?” she asks, suddenly self-conscious of the low, flat vowels of her Citadel upbringing.

“Something like that,” he answers, and she finds herself wanting to kiss the corner of his eyes, where the skin crinkles when he smiles.

***

They creep up the stairs towards Liam’s childhood bedroom; it makes Liv feel like a teenager again but it’s kind of exciting. He flicks the light on once he opens the door for her and — okay, he’d warned her, but she finds herself holding back a laugh because it reminds her so much of Oscar’s old room when they’d lived on the Citadel.

Liam holds his hands up defensively as he guides her to the bed. It squeaks underneath her weight when she sits upon it. “Hey, I warned you.”

“I love the Star Wars posters,” she adds, leaning her head back to get a better look. “Always nice to see someone who appreciates the classics.”

He chuckles as he sits down next to her, a hand resting high upon her thigh. “I knew there was a reason I liked you,” he says. Heat pools low in her belly, and she becomes acutely aware of just how much she wants him. “Can I get you anything? A drink?” he asks, fingers distractingly running towards the inside of her leg.

“I’ve had enough,” she answers; she’d sobered quite significantly on their walk and finds herself wanting to do this sober.

She can’t help but think that Liam looks relieved. “Same,” he breathes, before leaning in to kiss her, hand now firmly pressed up between her legs where she’d been begging to be touched; her hips roll automatically, seeking friction.

She can’t believe how much she’s needed this. To just simply be as she is with someone who knows her as just Olivia without Ryder following her like a curse. She wants to be swallowed up by him, if he’d allow it, and just forget.

***

They’re recruiting the wrong men into the Alliance, she thinks to herself as Liam peels off her jeans and kisses a path up her legs from her knees, gaze never leaving their intended destination.

How the hell did she get to be this lucky, she wonders as he kisses the smatter of freckles on her skin along the way and makes up nonsense names for them, constellations she’s never heard of.

His stubble tickles her thighs as he buries his head between her legs and works her with her mouth for what feels like hours. Kisses her after she comes and she doesn’t even mind it, just runs her fingers through his tight tight curls and kisses back, tastes herself on his lips.

It’s only at her insistence that he allows her to return the favour.

***

The single bed is cozy. The truth of the matter is that neither of them are small people. She’s having to indulge in a bit more after-the-fact cuddling than she would like, but in all honesty? It’s not that bad. Good, even. They’re still both naked and vulnerable and just talking still, with voices that get more heavily laced with sleep as the hour nears morning.

It’s the vulnerability that gets her when Liam asks, soft and quiet and gentle, “You never told me why you came to London.”

She could wave him off with a vague answer about family obligations, and she he knows he wouldn’t pry further. But the grief is still raw and fresh and still sitting there just under her ribcage, no matter how much she tries to distract herself with attractive men with smiles she could die for.

“Mom grew up here,” she starts and when she senses Liam about to ask for more information, she adds hastily, with less finesse than she’d hoped for, “she died. Not too long ago.”

He inhales sharply, his arms tightening around her. “I’m sorry,” he tells her, and there’s something in his voice that almost undoes her, she can feel her lower lip tremble as she does her best to fight off the tears that finally threaten to fall at last. Oscar had always been a crier. But not Olivia.

“It is what she is,” she says, mostly for her own benefit than Liam’s. “She’d been sick for a while. I just hope that if she’s… I don’t know, looking down on me or whatever, that she’d be proud of me. Us. Of what I’m about to do.” Mom is dead and gone and although she never put the burden of caring for the family on Liv’s shoulders, Olivia carries it anyway. Someone must. Dad’s a mess, and Oscar’s… Oscar.

“It sounds like you’re going to do amazing things,” Liam says, so sincere she almost believes it.

She knows what the churning in her gut is now. It’s fear. It’s relieving to actually have a name for it. “I’m scared,” she admits, burying her head further into the crook of his shoulder. Remembers Liam’s own top-secret mission, reaches out for a thread of common connection. “Aren’t you?”

“Not really,” he answers, shrugging as best he can with her head against his chest.

She lifts her chin to look at him in wonder. “How do you do it?” she asks.

He presses two fingers to where his heart beats against his check. “I have hope that the future’s better than what I’m leaving behind.” He’s so earnest, so sincere, that Liv finally allows herself to cry.

“I am so depressing,” she manages to blurt out between sobs. It hurts to breathe. Her head hurts. Her throat hurts. But most of all, her heart hurts, buried under the weight of everything that was and everything that can’t be.

“You’re not,” Liam assures her, soothing his hands down over her back. “And for what it’s worth? My mum would love you.” She starts to cry harder, then, really cry, face scrunched up and ugly. “And that was not the right thing to say,” he amends.

She wants to laugh, because this entire night has been hugging the border between amazing and absurd and tragic ever since the very beginning. “Yeah. I mean. You still hardly know me. But,” she continues, wiping at her eyes with her wrist, “I appreciate the sentiment.”

“Sometimes the words come out the wrong way,” Liam explains, continuing to rub soothing circles against her skin, “Most of the time, actually. But … you knew what I wanted to say. That’s what matters. Means a lot, really.”

He continues to hold her until she falls asleep.

***

When she wakes up in the morning she’s not too surprised to find herself alone in the bed. Thinks she can hear pots and pans banging in the kitchen if she strains herself to hear it. Not sure if she’s ready to deal with the implications of that yet, she instead busies herself with gathering her garments so casually discarded the night before, slowly redressing herself in her crumpled clothing.

It doesn’t buy her enough time. She wants to sneak out the window or whatever, but can’t quite bring herself to do so. It’s when she’s almost done making Liam’s bed with military precision that the door creaks open and the man himself is standing in the entranceway. “I cooked bacon,” he says, because of course he fucking did.

She knows she said she wouldn’t stay, but she is surely tempted. Besides, she can smell their breakfast now because Liam’s brought it up to his room. He takes a few quiet steps towards her, sets down her plate on the dresser. “Wasn’t sure how you liked your eggs. Figured I couldn’t go wrong with sunny-side up.”

“You didn’t,” she answers, smile soft as she reaches for the cutlery he offers her. “My favourite.” She should be more fussed that she’s so predictable, but in this moment? She hardly cares.

“I already had mine,” Liam explains as Liv begins to eat, chewing thoughtfully upon the eggs and bacon and toast impaled on the tines of the fork. With a wince, he adds, “Mum’s home, but don’t worry. I’ll sneak you out, sight unseen.”

She almost chokes on her food. Instead, she playfully bumps him with her shoulder. “Had a lot of practice?” she asks.

He has the decency to look abashed, rubs at the back of his head with one hand. “Something like that,” he mutters.

Liv waves at her quickly vanishing breakfast with one hand. “Well, if it’s what taught you to do all this, I’m not complaining.”

“I’m glad,” Liam confesses, and they sit together on the bed, knees touching, until Olivia finishes eating.

***

True to his word, Liam manages to bundle Liv out the door without incident, but it’s a very near thing. Her face is burning as she recalls just how close she’d tiptoed to a meet-the-parents scenario that she doesn’t want to deal with right now. Liam’s mom’s voice rings in her ears even though she’d only heard it through the walls: ’Are you going to introduce me to your friend?’ She’d mouthed a mortified no in his direction, and Liam had only chuckled, calling out a cheeky ‘No!’ to his mother in agreement.

“In another life, perhaps,” he says, arm still wrapped around her as they say goodbye on the corner of the street. Cold air nips at Olivia’s cheeks as she smiles up at him. “But, it is what it is. We’re both moving onto other things. Bigger. Better. Brighter.“

"Yeah,” she agrees, no longer wanting to push the point. "I’m sorry things couldn’t be different.“ She finds herself scuffing the toes of her boots against the concrete of the footpath, looking down. She doesn’t want this – whatever this is – to end. "I would’ve liked to get to know you better.”

“Likewise,” Liam answers, looking at her with those big brown earnest eyes of his; she meets his gaze and he runs a thumb along her jawline. Before she knows it, their mouths are crashing together once more. It’s the longest kiss goodbye she’s ever received.

When they break apart, she holds his face mere inches from hers, runs her fingers over the stubble she finds there. “Don’t miss me too much,” she warns.

“I’ll try not to,” he promises.

“Best of luck with everything.”

“You too.”

They break apart, and Liv does her best to disguise the lump in her throat. She takes one, two, three awkward steps away as Liam does the same, and then she looks back and does a little wave. “See you later,” she says in farewell, even though she won’t. It’s just pleasantry, really. Isn’t that how this had started? Now it’s time to go home, so she can continue to get prepared for the new home. The new home she’s growing less and less certain that she actually wants.

“Goodbye, Olivia,” Liam whispers to her retreating back.

***

634 Years Later

Liv is the first of the twins to awaken when the Hyperion arrives in Andromeda, her shuddering gasp full of wonder. They really made it. So much for her lack of faith. Doctors surround her. They’re going to unfreeze Oscar next.

That’s when she looks across the bay and sees and recognises the man enthusiastically waving across the room at her. Holy shit. It can’t be, but it is. “Liam?” She gapes, unable to disguise the way he makes her heart stutter just by goddamn looking at her. At least he looks just as giddy to be seeing her. One of the docs makes a small noise of concern in the back of her throat. Her vitals are probably spiking.

"You two know each other?” she asks.

“In a manner of speaking,” she answers, barely able to hear her own voice over the roar of her blood in her veins.

In another life, he’d said, and she’d wished for the chance to get to know him better.

Luckily for them, it's their very first day in a brand new galaxy.

#liam kosta #ryder #rydam #mass effect #mass effect andromeda #me:a spoilers #asha fic

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