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#I felt fine??? then hours later I was like no. not fine actually
venerawrites · 17 hours
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Heyyyyyyy saw you're ask was open and jumped with joy!!!!
I have a request; for how Viktor or Jinx would react to reader fainting from exhaustion!, angsty and fluffy!!..love you're stuff ❤️❤️❤️
author's note: oh my, you are so sweet, thank you! This was such an interesting request to write and also my first one for Jinx, so I really hope you like it and I did your expectations justice! Thank you for requesting! <3
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➤ Viktor
Working late side by side was not an unusual occurrence for you and Viktor. You often found yourselves in the lab way past closing hours and you even fell asleep on the corner sofa on numerous occasions.
While you were used to hard work, your recent project on trying to find a way for the Hexcore to react with organic matter has really taken its toll on you. You and Viktor spend hours experimenting, without a break and barely eating any food during the day.
Being completely engrossed in his work, it did take a few days (and maybe a small comment from Jayce) for Viktor to notice your malnourished look - the dark bags under your eyes, the unusual greyish colour of your skin
He tried everything to make you stop your work on the project - from trying to convince you to stay at home and proposing for him to take a few days break with you, to actually having arguments day after day about how he doesn't want you to experiment on the Hexcore anymore and he is giving it up altogether.
Being even more stubborn than him, you refused to abandon your work, knowing how high the stakes were. And this is how one day, after another long day, you felt you were almost there when suddenly everything went blurry and you felt yourself falling back...
Viktor was on his way back from a meeting with Jayce when he felt some nagging feeling at the pit of his stomach. He was not one to be superficial or anything, but deep down he knew something was wrong.
Once he opened the door and found you laying next to your desk, a trail of blood coming from the side of your head, forming a little pool on the ground, he felt his whole breath being taken away.
In his rush to get to you, he threw away his crutch, limping a few steps, before falling on his knees. Not giving up, he crawled to your unconscious form on his knees, cradling you in his lap once he was in an arm's reach.
"No, no, please! Wake up!", he shook your form, before lifting his head toward the door, "Help! Somebody help! Please!"
Luckily for him, Jayce and some of the enforcers were still on the same floor and once they heard his distressed calls, they immediately ran toward your lab and brought you to the hospital.
Viktor is a gentle and kind man, who loves you more than anything in his world, but he does have a problem expressing his thoughts and fears. So while he was crazy worried about your health, despite all the promises from the nurses that you are going to be fine, he felt a rising mix of frustration and annoyance bubbling inside of him. Why can't you just listen to him for once?
After you woke up a few hours later, he was happy to see you finally conscious, but even that did not save you from the long lecture he gave you about how you never listen to him, how you don't care about your health, and how Hexcore has brought nothing, but pain and issues for you.
He then exits the room for a few hours and while he remains in the hospital, he uses the opportunity to get some fresh air and gather his thoughts. He knows he sounded harsher than intended, but he just didn't know how to word his worry for you.
You were released the next day and instructed to stay home, and while you tried to convince Viktor that you were fit to go back to work, he was having none of it. He took you straight home and he took a few days off himself, so he can take care of you.
He never apologized for his sharp words in the hospital, but you knew how sorry he was based on the way he was treating you, getting you everything you asked for, cooking you dinner, and doing all the chores, despite being in a poor health himself.
He will try to keep your mind busy by organising "book dates" on the sofa, where you read to each other, or by competing with you while playing board/card games (he totally let's you win, by the way.)
Please don't be mad because he is not good with words - he loves you more than his own life, which is why he is set to give up on the Hexcore project once and for all after seeing what it did to you.
➤ Jinx
Keeping up with Jinx was a tiring task - the young woman had such high energy, that she was hyperactive a good 80% of the time. She was always running around, making different trinkets or weapons, or drawing on the buildings of Zaun.
You, on the other hand, were more relaxed and laid-back. It's not like you were in bed all day, but you didn't like to be rushed, neither you liked to be always on the move. If anything, you preferred to spend your time cuddled next to Jinx after a long day of work, rather than run around the Undercity.
But life has been difficult for both of you recently since Violet came back and the blue-haired girl needed you more than ever. While she tried to act normal around you, you could hear her mumbling stuff about her sister in her sleep and when you were out together, she kept looking around, almost paranoid.
You tried to support her in the best way you knew how - with physical affection and also being glued to her side 24/7. She did have abandonment issues and she never liked to be left alone, but recently she was extra clingy around you.
Her energetic lifestyle, however, proved to be a bite too big for you to chew, and only after 2 days of spending your time only with her and accompanying her on her little 'missions', you felt absolutely exhausted. Not only you couldn't get more than a few hours of sleep each night, but you also barely had the time to eat, as you were constantly on the move.
Too engrossed in her attempts to run away from her memories, she didn't notice how you were becoming weaker and weaker in front of your eyes. So when one day she came back home, ready to give you a piece of her mind for leaving her waiting for you for over an hour, she was shocked to find you passed out on her desk, completely unconscious.
Many emotions passed through her at that moment - fear, confusion, disbelief - and for a while, she just stood frozen in place, looking at you with wide eyes. Cautiously, she walked next to you and tried to shake your shoulders gently.
"Bam-Bam, are you asleep? Hello?", her shakes got more energetic with every second of you not responding, "Shit! Bam-Bam! Please be okay, please be okay..."
Despite looking pretty short and slim, Jinx has always been pretty strong, especially with her hands. Scooping you in her arms, she quickly made her way to Silco's office, unsure where else to go. She knew that he was somewhat reserved when it came to your relationship, but at the moment he was the closest and the most convenient option.
Practically barging into his office and not bothered at all by the fact that he was in a meeting with Sevika, she laid you on the couch and started rambling about what your plans for the day were and all the events that happened since the morning till the moment she found you on the floor.
Luckily for her, Sevika has dealt with many people who have fainted from exhaustion before (mainly Shimmer workers). After checking your breathing and pulse, she picked you up and decided to move you to one of the free bedrooms on the floor so you could rest.
Of course, Jinx did not want to leave your side, but as she tried to follow the older woman, she was stopped by Silco who claimed you need some time by yourself, so you could rest and that he would have someone checking on you periodically.
She was furious - she wanted to be by your side and she didn't like that she was being kept away. What would you think once you woke up and she was not there? So while initially she agreed to let you rest, the moment Silco left "The Last Drop" for business, she immediately ran to the room she was in.
You woke up a few hours later only to find her trembling on the chair next to you, bouncing her knee up and down with rapid speed, while her head was buried in her hands. Blue hair was sticking out from her braids in every direction, while her nails were digging almost painfully into her scalp. Once she heard her name falling weakly out of your lips, she jumped from the chair and circled her hands around you, prepping your face with small kisses. She kept apologizing for not taking care of you, for not noticing how exhausted you had been for the past few days, and promising she would be better for you, as long as you don't leave her.
For the next few days she stayed glued to your side, insisting she needed to help you eat, change, and shower, and every time Sevika or Silco tried to pull her away, she would get both angry and upset. Eventually, they just let her do whatever she wanted, while also making sure you were recovering well.
Despite Jinx denying it, you knew her mind was partly occupied by Vi and her presence in Zaun. You tried to convince her that everything was going to be okay and that you would help her find her sister, but every time she just shook her head, saying that the only person she cared about was you. Deep down, she did blame Vi for what happened to you - if she hadn't decided to randomly pop in the Undercity after so many years, she wouldn't be so stressed and shocked, and you would've been fine.
Jinx becomes even more clingy with you after this and she will nag you to eat, drink, and rest all the time (despite not doing it herself). This girl loves you and while she can't really change who she is, she will try her best to slow down, take a breath and enjoy her time with you without the constant rush and adrenaline.
cc artwork: Max Suleimanov
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Text
Take a Moment
Genre; hurt/comfort, fluff
Word count; 1.8k
Warnings; description of reader feeling overwhelmed, reader having a little doubt as to why Gabriel is helping them so much.
Pairing; Gabriel (Supernatural) x Reader
Gabriel who is absolutely smitten with the reader sees they are feeling overwhelmed whilst researching a case and offers to take them somewhere quiet – comfort and cuddling ensues.
I’m back! I really enjoyed writing this one (I'm rewatching Supernatural at the moment and my love of Gabriel has been rekindled) and I’m considering doing something similar with Lucifer – let me know if that’s something you would want to read. Enjoy!
Masterlist
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You didn’t even have to say anything for Gabriel to know something was wrong. Castiel was never likely to notice, but the archangel had to forgive him that. His brother wasn’t the most perceptive when it came to emotion. The Winchesters were very perceptive, but they were only human and you were covering your discomfort well. Your breathing was regular and steady, there were no signs of a tapping foot or a repetitive hand movement, or anything that would signal how you felt.
But Gabriel could actually feel how you felt, one of the perks of his true form being an enormous series of celestial wavelengths. It was incomprehensible to you, he was sure, but you understood enough about angels to get the gist. He watched as you sat at the end of the table in the bunker’s library, having put yourself there so that no one would sit down next to you. You had your legs crossed tight at the knee, your arms crossed where you leaned forward on the table. Your posture looked closed off, but there was a mug of coffee by your side and you had been reading lore for hours. The others would assume you had slept poorly or were bored senseless. What that posture really meant was that you were protecting yourself, consciously or not.
Nothing had happened to trigger it, but it was clear to Gabriel that you felt incredibly overwhelmed. He stayed were he had set himself up by one of the bookshelves, one hip cocked against it. He had seen you leave situations like this in the past, when things finally did get too much and you needed some space to yourself. Equally, he had seen you try to tough it out and pretend everything was fine more times than he wanted to count. He truly wishes you knew you didn’t have to, regardless of if that meant you wanted his help or not.
Sam and Dean were sitting far enough down the table that it didn’t seem to be affecting your clear need – or clear to Gabriel, at least – for personal space. Castiel was browsing books along the shelves on the other side of the room, so whilst Gabriel wanted desperately to intervene and help you, he was glad for a moment to think that he wouldn’t need to.
That was until the idiot brothers decided to open their mouths.
“Hey Y/N, did you find anything on that weapon?”
Gabriel would have liked to snap Dean’s mouth shut. You told him that you hadn’t with a small smile, short but not unkind. Gabriel could see the effort it took for you to regain your focus on your reading. Just a few minutes later and Sam was the one to interrupt you, asking for the title of a book you had mentioned to him the previous day. This time it was harder for you to concentrate on your task again. It was when Dean disrupted your work for a third time, asking if you wanted more coffee as he stood and made his way to the kitchen, that you couldn’t take it a second longer.
Your refusal was decisive and your chair legs scraped against the floor as you pushed back from the table. You left the room quickly with a muttered excuse about going to look for a different book. Gabriel took his chance and flew ahead of you, leaving the library without anyone noticing. He was leaning against the wall outside your room when you arrived in a flurry from the speed at which you had been walking. You jumped in surprise when you rounded the corner to see him standing there and promptly tried to push straight past him in an effort to get a moment by yourself.
“Sorry Gabriel, I just need a minute.” Your words were quiet and your breathing had turned heavy. He knew that he would be making things worse for you in the moment, but he also knew he could help in the long run.
“Hey, sugar…” he murmured, voice even softer than it normally was when he spoke to you. “You wanna go somewhere quiet?”
You paused, hand on the door to your little closed in space in the bunker. No windows, not much by way of fresh air, and a whole group of people in the library just waiting to interrupt your alone time. You trusted Gabriel, knew he would never do anything to hurt you. And you desperately needed a break from it all.
He could have jumped for joy when you nodded, but he kept his reaction contained. He offered you a hand, palm up, which you took hold of immediately. The bunker was gone in the time it took you to blink. Instead, you stood in the main room of a sunny villa-like house, all open plan and large windows. Orange sunlight streamed in from a setting sun and to your right, double glass doors led out onto a sprawling patio. Bright blue pool water glimmered from its centre.
Gabriel let your hand slip from his as you took a few steps into the room, looking around with a beautiful if not tired smile.
“Is this yours?” You asked, a hint of wonder in your words that made Gabriel’s chest swell.
“Just a bit of real estate I have over in Cali.” He gave you his classic playful smirk as you looked back at him, amused by his dismissal of such a nice place. “Make yourself at home, sugar. You want a drink?” You seemed to consider something for a moment, rolling the sentence around in your mouth.
“Actually, I – this is probably silly, but can we just sit down for a minute?”
We.
You wanted to sit down with him until you felt better. That was how much you trusted him, how safe you felt with him. Outwardly, he just gave you a smile and sauntered over to one of the couches arranged artfully around the room.
“Course we can! And don’t ever worry about sounding silly with me.”
He held an intense moment of eye contact with you to make sure his message sank in. You took a seat on the other side of the couch and Gabriel couldn’t resist stretching an arm out along the back of it, behind your head. Not touching, but the invitation was there. You smiled to yourself at his less than subtle antics. He grinned like a cheshire cat when you shifted further towards him and rested your head on his shoulder. He slid his arm around your shoulders and pulled you in close, resting his cheek atop your head. You in turn curled into him fully and wound an arm around his neck.
Gabriel didn’t bother to fight the warm feeling in his chest. He felt no need to deny to himself how fond he was of you, instead just enjoying the moment. He felt you relaxing against him physically, but he also felt your mind becoming calmer. His breath shifted your hair as he took in the scent of your shampoo. He had years of experience passing time in the company of humans, but this little display of trust you were putting on meant more to him than a lot of that put together.
His other hand alighted on your hip as you moved closer still, mindlessly seeking comfort. You tucked your legs up onto the couch and the movement allowed you to put more of your weight against the archangel. He wrapped an arm around your waist and you reached your own up over his shoulders. He smiled at you ever so warmly as you tucked your face into his neck, watching your eyes close as you let out a contented sigh. He began to card his fingers through your hair, lightly scraping his nails over the back of your head, and all but basked in the way your head tilted further forwards onto his shoulder.
“You know you can talk to me when you feel like that, right? Or any time. I’m always here if you need me to be.” You tightened your hold on him for a brief moment. “And you can come here whenever you want, just give me the word.”
You leaned back a little at that, catching his eye.
“Gabriel, thank you. Really, thank you, but… why are you doing all this for me?” He rolled his eyes playfully without missing a beat.
“Oh no, the big bad archangel Gabriel looks like he might actually give a crap about some human.” He waved his hands around for dramatic affect before placing them back on you. He then tilted his head forward, narrowing his eyes and raising a brow. “Seriously?” The half shrug you offered had him muttering heatedly to himself in Enochian. “Seriously? Is it really that shocking that I give a damn about you? Why is this coming as such a surprise?” You were planning on not answering that verbally but he refused to let you look away. “Come on, sugar. You must know I care about you by now.” Gabriel’s hand started on a steady path up and down your back, waiting for your answer. You stumbled around your words for a lot longer than you would have liked, still unhappy with what you settled for in the end.
“I – didn’t really realise.”
“You think I bring anyone else here when I can see they need some space to breathe?” He wasn’t mocking, or even upset, he was just being direct.
“I’m surprised you brought me here,” you muttered, very quiet. He didn’t deign to answer that in words, but the look he gave you said come on. You gave a soft sigh of your own. “Gabriel, look. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t realise you cared about me so much, I really didn’t.” He went to hit back, likely with something disparaging, so you tapped his nose to get his attention. The self-righteous expression of how dare you had a grin pulling at your lips. “You can complain about me not realising later, alright? You were a much more calming influence when you weren’t saying anything.” He repeated that back to you, absolutely exasperated by your nerve, but you tucked your face back into his shoulder instead of replying. You felt him shake his head, even as his arms wound back around you.
You knew you wouldn’t have much time left before you needed to return to the bunker, but for the time being, you simply enjoyed your moment of peace.
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rosemaidenvixen · 3 days
Text
Between Daylight and Darkness
Chapter 4
<Previous Next>
Ao3
“You kids sure you’ll be ok?”
Jim waved her off as the others shuffled out of the car “It’ll be fine, we’ll stay close to the canal and I’ll text you every hour,”
Barbara’s worried expression didn’t ease, but she turned back and straightened up in the driver’s seat “Ok, I trust you. Let me know if you find anything and I’ll see you in a few hours,”
Jim pulled his hood up over his horns, nodding with a confidence he didn’t quite feel but knew his mom needed to see “Alright, see you then,”
She gave him a single nod in return before pulling away back down the access road, turning a corner and being swallowed up by trees, the glint of the headlights the only thing visible in the evening gloom.
Turning away, Jim walked to the edge of the canal and slid to the bottom, where the rest of them were already waiting. The sun had set just over twenty minutes ago, the light was dim and fading fast, but the streetlights lining the canal provided just enough light to see each other and their surroundings, at least for now.
“Ok guys how should we do this? Stay together or split up to cover more ground?”
Darci rolled her eyes “Uh, stay together, obviously, I’m not getting ax murdered,”
“Sounds good, but I’m pretty sure I can take some redneck with an ax,”
Mary snickered “Oh we’re gonna hold you to that,”
They all shared a soft chuckle. Claire was the first one to stop, glancing over his shoulder, smile dropping off and gaze turning contemplative as she stared down the canal “We’re at the north intersection now, let’s head south. If we don’t find anything we can start here again tomorrow heading north,”
“Sounds like a plan,” Toby jogged ahead and took point as the five of them started walking down the concrete corridor “Let’s spread out and walk in a line, cover as much ground as possible, but stay close for aforementioned ax-murderer related reasons,”
Jim forced a smile at that as they headed down the canal, scanning the concrete as they went, but the expression didn’t sit well on his face. All things considered they were off to a good start; traffic was low, no issues getting here. Everyone was in a good mood cracking jokes and ribbing each other like usual. But none of it did anything to dispel the tightness he felt deep in his gut.
It had been five days since he’d found the not-pocket watch, and they were no closer to any real answers. The best lead they had was Eli’s claims of monsters with stone for skin fighting right where Jim had found the watch a few short hours later. Hence the five of them spending their Friday night scouring the canal for clues.
But did Eli really see what he claimed he did? Were there really others out there like Jim? How did the watch play into things?
None of them knew, but if there were any answers in the canal they’d find them.
Jim didn’t know what was stressing him out more, the thought that they wouldn’t find any answers here, or that they might actually find something–
A car rumbled along the road above them, startling Jim out of his thoughts. He suppressed a shudder and pulled his hood down further over his face. He was used to his blue nocturnal form, and frequent camping trips kept him from becoming completely neurotic, but being outside so close to a city at night felt…weird.
The usual smells and sounds were here, trees and dirt, birds and insects; but they were buried underneath a cacophony of other senses. The roar of traffic, the stink of diesel and pollution. The contrast was jarring and had been riling him up ever since he got out of the ca–
Jim stopped dead in his tracks, head snapping around to stare into the trees above them.
“What’s up Jimbo?”
“I– I don’t know, I think I…smell something,”
Claire stepped up to his side “Smell what?”
“I’m…not sure, it’s familiar but like, it doesn’t…belong here,”
“Well then let’s check it out,” Mary propped a single sneaker on the angled side of the canal, glancing over her shoulder at the rest of them “This is why we came out here right? To investigate things, so let’s get investigating,”
“Yeah, let’s do it,” Claire started scaling the canal right behind her, Darci and Toby following on her heels.
Toby paused and looked back “Everything ok Jimbo?”
“Oh! Yeah– I’m coming,”
Soon the five of them were standing at the edge of the woods alongside the canal. Jim shut his eyes and pulled in a deep breath through his nose “Whatever it is, it’s close,”
“Lead the way then,” Claire sided up next to him “We’re following your super senses,”
“R– right,” 
Jim forced himself to pick up his feet and follow the strange scent into the woods, keenly aware of the four smaller sets of footsteps trailing him. Trading the open glow of streetlights on cement to the deep gloom of the woods, unease deepening in his gut with every step.
He’d been on edge ever since they got here, but for some reason this new smell was putting his anxiety into overdrive. He had no idea why, it wasn’t a bad smell, in fact it was familiar in a way he just couldn’t put his finger on, but with something else clinging to it. The combination tripping alarm bells in his head.
They needed to push ahead, this was the best lead they’d found and as nervous as he was his drive for answers was still stronger than his unease. 
Reflexively Jim pulled his hood down even further, fabric hanging down directly in his fa–
He stopped dead in his tracks, making the others stumble to a halt behind him.
Darci stepped around him “Everything ok?”
“Guys I think I might know what this is, it smells kind of like…me,”
“That’s great!” she beamed up at him “If there’s someone else like you out there we can ask them for answers,”
“Sure…yeah,”
“Well what are we waiting for!” Toby eagerly rushed ahead “Let’s go! We’ve got a fellow were-gargoyle to meet!” 
The others all sped up, Jim had to fight from breaking into a run as he lengthened his strides to take the lead.Some murky, innate need in the back of his head demanding that he place himself between his friends and the strange scent as they headed deeper into the trees. Ice prickling up his spine, fur on his neck and back standing on end.
His sense of smell was sharper when he was blue but not so sharp that he could identify people by scent alone. In general people all smelled more or less the same. The way he could tell them apart is by what other scents accompanied them.
Mom smelled like person plus disinfectant.
Toby smelled like person plus cat.
Claire smelled like person plus gardenia shampoo.
By the same note the scent he was following was the same as the scent that clung to Jim’s clothes and bedsheets, but with a heavy, almost sweet note to it that Jim’s own scent was missing. Raising his hackles and sending adrenaline shooting through him for reasons he couldn’t understand–
A rattling sound was the only warning he got before the watch flew out of his pocket, slamming into his chest with the armor materializing in a bright flash.
The others all started, but Jim just shook his head “Forget it, let’s just keep going,”
They had to be in the open space by now, the only light came from the glow of his armor and civilization might as well be miles away. The strange scent was almost overpowering now, leading him to a gap in the trees–
He stopped dead in his tracks, every speck of air knocked from his lungs. Jim was vaguely aware of the others stumbling into him from behind, letting out their own gasps of shock, but all that seemed distant and unimportant compared to what laid directly ahead of him.
Less than twelve feet ahead of them, sitting in a large clearing, there was a creature made of black stone, just like Jim was made of blue, but that was where the similarities ended. This creature was massive, easily eight feet tall, maybe more. Broad and bulky with muscles so well defined they looked carved.
And for all Jim knew they very well might have been.
In place of any kind of normal clothing this creature wore a leather kilt, straps across their chest. A mane of shaggy, black hair ran down the creature’s back–
From out of nowhere the creature whirled on them, piercing the five of them with searingly red eyes, the only trace of color on its body. Jagged tusks poked out of the creature’s mouth, dark horns curling down on either side of it’s– his? Face. His gaze glowing through the trees.
For a moment no one moved. The six of them all appraising each other. 
Toby shifted from foot to foot, giving a little wave “Uh…hello? How’s it going?”
The creature’s mouth pulled into a wide grin, exposing a mouthful of large, crooked teeth accompanying his tusks. Rising to his full height, level with the smaller trees, taking easy strides towards them.
“Finally, my search is at an end,” the creature’s voice was low and gravely, easily carrying across the clearing.
Jim flinched at being addressed “Wha–”
A metallic shing echoed through the clearing as the creature reached above his back, metal glinting as he pulled something free “You have two choices Trollhunter. Surrender the amulet and I will allow you the honor of watching Gunmar rise to his full glory. Refuse me and perish,”
Jim blinked, and the object came into focus. It was a sword, pointed directly at the five of them.
The ringing alarm bells in his head started screaming.
It was at this moment that Jim realized the mysterious note clinging to this creature’s scent.
Rotting meat.
“Run,”
“Wha–”
“Guys run!”
The creature lunged towards them with a roar, the five of the shrieking and scrambling out of the way. All ove Jim’s senses were working in overdrive. He could hear every twig snapping, see every twitch of a limb, as the red eyed creature charged.
In that moment Jim forgot about the watch, his blue form, where he was and what he was doing. Everything. The only thing he knew was that if he didn’t get away they were all going to die–
Jim leapt to the side, snagging Mary and Claire under his arm and out of the creature's path the second before his blade came down. Leaping back again and grabbing Toby and Darci with his other arm. Heartbeat booming in his ears, Jim forced himself to turn his back on the creature as he pivoted around and started sprinting as fast as he could, not even paying attention to which way he was going in his desperate goal to get away–
The creature roared behind him, further away now but still far too close. Branches snapping and cracking as he pursued them. Spurring Jim to push his legs even faster.
Jim didn’t think he just ran. Racing through the trees with all his might, ducking and dodging past trees at the last second, keeping a tight grip on the others, near manic in his desperation to create distance between them and the creature. 
His panicked energy seemed boundless, the weight of the others in his arms barely registered. Jim could run with them all the way to Nevada if he had to. But while their weight barely registered four people was a lot to carry, arms and legs flopping all over the place. And he could only hold them so tight without hurting them, and as he continued to run he could feel someone start to slip.
Even though everything in him was screaming to keep going, Jim forced his legs to stagger to a stop and released them. The four tumbling free and wobbling on their feet.
Toby panted, shooting a frantic look back through the trees “What the actual fuck was that thing!?”
“I…I don’t know,” Claire turned towards Jim “Do you…?”
“No I have absolutely no clue what that thing was,”
“Well whatever it was, we need to–”
“Greetings!”
Jim’s heart shot up into his throat, rushing forward and planting himself in front of the others as the four of them screamed and staggered back.
Another creature stepped through the trees towards them. This one was smaller, but somehow even less human. Head was larger, too many eyes, too many arms. Blue instead of black, suspenders instead of a kilt. Scent of paper and dust clinging to him as opposed to decaying meat.
The creature’s eyes landed on Jim, who couldn’t help but flinch, their mouth breaking into a wide grin “Alas we’ve found you! AAARRRGGHH come hither!”
Heavy footsteps thudded through the forest ahead. Jim whipped his head up to see another creature pushing through the trees, his already hammering heartbeat skyrocketing.
This one was huge, just as big as the first creature they saw, maybe bigger. Lurching through the trees on all fours, making Jim think of a gorilla. No clothes, just a shaggy green mane over a gray stony body.
Somehow Jim still managed to hear the others shriek and stagger back over the roaring in his ears. Jim took a step back, arms spread wide and twitching, getting ready to tuck the others back under his arms and book it the second they had a chance.
But before he could move the many eyed creature’s expression turned to concern, holding up four hands.
“Oh there’s no need to panic, me and my companion mean you no harm,”
“Yeah right,” Mary spat.
“It true,” the big creature rumbled out “Us friends,”   
“Yes you can count us among your allies Trollhunter,”
It took Jim a second to register the word many eyes used.
“Sorry, what was that?”
Many-eyes’ smile got even wider “We have been searching for you for quite some time Trollhunter,” he raised a finger to point at Jim–
No, not at Jim, at the amulet embedded in his chest.
Jim’s brain was still playing catch up “Wait wait wait, you’re saying I’m a….Troll Hunter?”
Many-eyes blinked, all six of his eyes, before letting out a sharp laugh “Quite a sense of humor on yo–”
A roar sounded in the distance, but far too close for comfort, causing all of them, including the newcomers, to jump.
“Leave now, explain later,” the big one rumbled.
“Right you are AAARRRGGHH. Come young Trollhunter, we can provide shelter for you and your companions,”
“Ummm…question,” Toby piped up, voice a full octave higher than normal “How do we know that you aren’t just luring us into a false sense of security to take us to your lair to eat us later?” 
“Have no fear, my companion and I have taken oaths to never partake in human flesh,”
“Yeah, not good eno–”
Another roar, far too close now.
“We really gotta pick and choose here guys,” Darci said shrilly, bouncing from foot to foot and glancing through the trees anxiously.
Jim forced back his jitters and turned towards many-eyes “This place you’re talking about, it’ll be safe, from…him?”
Many eyes nodded “You have my word that you and your companions will be protected from all harm,”
“Ok, take us there,”
“Quickly then, right this way,” 
Many eyes and big guy led the five of them through the woods. Jim had lost all sense of direction by this point, but soon enough they broke through the trees back at the canal, scrambling down the side, the two strangers heading towards the main bridge.
“This is the safe place you were talking about!?” Claire said incredulously.
“Not quite, this is but the gateway to our sanctu–”
A whooshing sound in his ear and rush of air was all the warning Jim got before something rammed into his side, sending him flying through the air to slam into the side of the canal.
His head was spinning, a low wheeze escaping his chest, Jim somehow managed to determine which direction was upright and push himself up. He blinked to clear his vision only to have the breath freeze in his chest.
The large red eyed creature stood in the bottom of the canal, stalking towards him with a sword in each hand. Behind him Jim could see his friends standing back near the bridge, looking at him wide eyed and terrified.
Head still spinning, he put his feet underneath him and forced himself to stand. Spotting cracks in the concrete underneath him, Jim put several things together at once. 
This big creature had punched him with enough force to crack concrete. But Jim wasn’t hurt, not really. Due to his stone skin or the armor or maybe a bit of both Jim had just gotten the wind knocked out of him.
But such a move would kill one of his fleshy, unarmored friends in an instant.
His vision was still swimming and his heart hammering so loud he wouldn’t be surprised if red eyes could hear it, but in that moment Jim made an ironclad decision.
Even though every instinct in his body was screaming at him to run, Jim reached back and pulled the sword off his back.
“Guys go!” he waved at them with his free arm “Get somewhere safe while I hold him off,”
He could hear them screaming even as his field of vision became filled by red eyes charging towards him, glowing gaze locked on Jim. He didn’t care about the others, he was completely focused on Jim. Good. He could distract it while they got to the safe place.
Those thoughts kept his feet rooted to the ground, but did do anything to abate the gut curdling terror sweeping through him as the creature swung a blade down towards him.
Jim swung his own sword up, blade meeting blade with a deafening clang, but not so loud he couldn’t hear the others.
“Jim!”
“Quickly into the doorway–”
“We can’t just leave him!”
“He’ll stand a better chance without you now go–”
For a moment a trill of relief filled him, then red eyes leaned forward, pushing his blade down and forcing Jim back, fanged mouth pulled into a savage grin, and every drop of relief vanished. 
Quick as a flash, red eyes pulled his blade away and brought the other one down, forcing Jim to sloppily parry. His entire focus swallowed up by deflecting the larger creature's blows.
Jim didn’t know anything about sword fighting, but he knew a bit about knives, and had experience handling several kinds. He was no Michelin chef, but he liked to think his skill was a bit above average. A sword wasn’t a chef’s knife, but applying what he knew about blades Jim managed to keep a decent hold on his sword, using his practiced speed and efficiency to deflect red eyes’ strikes.
Jim was blocking every single blow, but despite this a deepening sense of dread pooled in his gut.
He was blocking the creature’s blows, but only barely. Red eyes was bigger than him with a much longer reach, and a lot stronger to, and Jim felt every blocked blow stinging in his joints. Without even realizing it he’d taken several steps back in a futile attempt to lessen the impacts. It was only a matter of time before he was pinned between the red eyes and the side of the canal.
And Jim was no swordsman, but something about red eyes’ movements seemed…sloppy. Almost lazy in the way he was battering at Jim with his swords, eyes gleaming over a toothy grin.
Jim was giving his all and barely able to keep his footing, but red eyes was just playing with him.
Frantic, Jim jumped back at an angle, to try and get more open space at his back and avoid being pinned. He was successful but opened himself up for a backhanded blow from red eyes, sending him sailing down the canal, armor screeching against the concrete as he slid to a stop.
He scrambled back upright, panicked and dizzy. Sloppy as it had been he had been successful at building space between him and red eyes. But now he had to scramble out of the way as he rushed towards him with startling speed.
“Over here! This way!” Jim snapped his head around, spotting many eyes standing under the bridge near the canal wall, only now there was a glowing portal in the side of the canal leading to subterranean spaces unknown.
Jim didn’t question where it led or even how such a thing was possible. He just ran. Sprinting towards the portal with all his might, knowing that his only chance of survival was under the bridge.
His feet slammed into the concrete again and again, maybe even hard enough to crack it. Not that Jim slowed down to check, not even daring to look back at the thuds of red eyes in hot pursuit, roaring far too close for comfort. 
The gateway was getting closer, but so was his pursuer. And Jim didn’t know who was going to reach their goal first.
Almost there almost there almost there–
Jim leapt through the portal, yellow streetlights giving way to a cool blue. The change in scenery barely registered, Jim keeping up his breakneck speed as he raced through the space. Rushing ahead even as the ground underneath him turned into a large set of steps. Big guy and many-eyes’ shouts from behind him drowned out by the roaring in his ears as he scrambled deeper and deeper into the earth.
Eventually he stumbled off the last stair, the shock making him stagger and slow down for the first time. Jim leaned against the rock wall at his side, panting, frantically looking around for a trace of his fr–
Jim froze.
A wide space opened up in front of him, easily the size of at least two football fields, maybe three, maybe more. Various buildings and structures carved out of bedrock filled the massive cavern, but all that he noticed second.
Dozens of creatures milled around; black, blue, green, red– every shade of the rainbow. Some with two eyes, some with five, some with just one. Horns of all shapes and sizes. Kilts and trousers and suspenders and more than a few forgoing all clothes. Some of the creatures were Jim’s size, some of them were nearly as large as many eyes’ friend. But all of them were the same in that they were made of stone.
Just like the red eyed creature.
Just like many-eyes and big guy.
Just like Jim–
One creature, red skin with a unicorn-like horn above a single large eye did a double take as their cyclopean gaze rolled over Jim, stopping whatever they had been doing to turn and stare at Jim fully. Jim wincing back at the scrutiny.
Cyclop’s jaw dropped open, his single eye widening “The Trollhunter is here!” they bellowed.
Just like that every creature stopped what they were doing and turned. Every eye in the cavern now on Jim.
The crowd surged towards him, Jim shrinking back as the creatures approached en masse. All of them were shouting, speaking over each other to the extent Jim couldn’t pick out what they were saying, but there was one word he heard repeated again and again.
The same word both red eyes and many eyes had used.
“–Trollhunter!”
“Trollhunter!?”
“Trollhunter–”
Jim could barely breathe, the tightness in his chest choking him. Creatures– people? So many of them. Staring at him, surrounding him, the crush of bodies nearly suffocating. His heartbeat and breathing picking up faster and faster. He needed more air than his body could give him. So many people looking at him, seeing him. Creatures just like him–
It was too all much. Adrenaline surging Jim broke free and ran. Shoving stony bodies out of his way heedless of shouts and squawked protests. Finally breaking free of the crowd and racing deeper into the cavern. Desperate to get away from here–
But no matter how fast he ran he couldn’t escape the cries of ‘Trollhunter’ chasing after him, ringing in his ears long after he’d left the crowd behind.
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some-greatreward · 2 months
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maybe i need meds???
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beskad · 4 months
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me every day: yes, I understand that I have ptsd. yes, it will frequently disrupt my life in sometimes (seemingly) random ways. sometimes this will necessitate leaving work or disclosing things about myself to a supervisor or friend or bystander because it's freaking them out and THEY are now panicking and often wanting to call me an ambulance. this is just a fact. it's fine. i'm dealing with it. most years are easier than the ones before them. it's fine.
me when my ptsd is actually triggered: what is happening right now. why can't I breathe. why can't I stand up. why do I feel like I'm about to throw up and die. oh, I know!!! I must be having an allergic reaction to something!!!! I'm suddenly coming down with the flu in the span of 3 minutes!!! this is so weird!!!!!!!
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fingertipsmp3 · 6 months
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So me and my friend unpacked that night terror I had the other night & basically I am now on a self-imposed horror ban because I genuinely think if I keep consuming horror with my current mental state I will have a full-blown psychotic break 😔✌🏻
#for the uninitiated: basically i dreamed of an entity that was ‘the personification of fear itself’ and it was standing in the corner of my#room heavy-breathing and looking at me. it followed me through 3 layers of sleep (dream within a dream; regular dream; WAKING -#i hallucinated it during a sleep paralysis incident)#and i was unpacking it with my friend and i was like ‘i think the reason i was able to fall asleep again so fast (within 10 minutes lol)#and the thought of it hasn’t really bothered me when i’ve tried to sleep since is that it felt like more of a warning than a threat#like it kept getting worse each time i saw it but obviously i was fine. like it never tried to harm me. it just stood there’#and she was like ‘so do you believe in symbolism in dreams?’ i said ‘i don’t believe in prophetic dreams and i don’t believe that dreams#always have meaning. what i believe is that when the conscious mind shuts off for sleep; the subconscious starts unpacking stuff completely#at random and starts working through it. i think it’s a complete roulette. i think the best example of that is the time i had a dream that#one of my teachers was selling teddy bear ties just because he wore a tie with teddy bears on it once. i had that dream about a week later.#i was not in any way preoccupied with his tie; i saw it once and that was it but my brain obviously decided to use it’#so she was like ‘so you think that you dreaming about an entity that was the personification of fear itself is completely random?’#i was like ‘oh no not really. that makes perfect sense to me. all the movies i’ve watched and books i’ve read and podcasts i’ve listened to#have been horror’ and she was like ‘and you think that’s healthy for you?’ ‘oh no not really. plenty of it scares me. i even got scared the#other day listening to true crime; which doesn’t usually happen to me but i guess the 4 hour serial killer documentary wore me down’#she’s just like ‘for god’s sake’ lol#so i’m like ‘i mean if i interpret it your way; about dreams having meanings and messages; i guess i’m being warned that i’m dwelling too#much on fear. i’m inviting it into my space deliberately. it’s the main emotion i’m experiencing from the media i consume. and i don’t know#that that’s necessarily… good?’ and she’s like ‘no i don’t think it is. maybe you should read a sci-fi or something or rewatch that reality#show you like?’ and i was like ‘that actually seems like a good idea’#so. no more horror for me for the foreseeable :( i just want to get through the seasonal depression. and get my grief for mabel down to a#manageable level. i mean it’s somewhat manageable now but i still feel sad and guilty all the time and cry randomly#i’m thinking about signing up to be a dog fosterer for the rspca. i mean i work from home; i have an enclosed garden & plenty of time#and i could use the companionship. i just don’t know that i can take on a multi-year commitment right now#personal
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tardis--dreams · 2 years
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Nothing more comfortable than lying in bed with the worst cramps in 3 years while your dog is taking a nap using your arm as a pillow (:
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gregmarriage · 3 months
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SUCH a ‘do everything you can in certain areas of your life, so you can at least feel like you have something resembling control over it’ girlie x
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exopelagic · 9 months
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FRESHERS FAIR WAS SOMETHING.
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hintsofhoney · 3 months
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Ladies With Experience
Paring(s): Dean Winchester x F!Reader
Summary: When Dean makes an off-handed comment about "preferring ladies with experience", you try (and fail) to not let it get under your skin. You're a virgin, but you've done just about everything else, and when you talk to Dean about it, he offers to be your first. He's your best friend, and you've been in love with him forever... who are you to deny him?
Tags: smut, first time, virgin!reader, dom/sub dynamics, dom!dean, p in v, oral (female receiving), spanking, fingering, not-so-innocent reader
Word Count: 5k
A/N: As always, thank you to my loves @wayward-dreamer and @makeadealwithdean for beta-ing. Would be nowhere without you two 🥰
You can also read me on Ao3!
DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST | SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST
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“Anyways, let’s say you’re right, fine. Who would want virgins?”
You know Sam didn’t mean it like that , and you felt stupid for letting it bother you. For letting this case bother you.
“You got me,” Dean replied with a shrug. “I prefer ladies with experience.” 
And there it was, like a punch straight to the gut. You hated that it hurt you as much as it did. So what, you’ve never had sex. But you’ve done almost everything else. You knew what you liked and what you didn't. You’ve been around the block a few times with the various sex toys in your nightstand drawer. It’s not like you weren’t experienced at all . But that didn’t make Dean’s words hurt any less. You swallowed down the burger and fries from lunch that were threatening to come up, before standing up from your seat at the small motel room table. 
The brothers looked at you, eyebrows raised.
“I — bathroom,” you managed, before quickly making your way there, slamming the door shut behind you. 
Staring at your reflection in the dirty bathroom mirror, you let the tears fall. Silently, you wiped them away as Dean’s words echoed in your head, and you hated that you loved him. Hated that you’d never be ballsy enough to admit it to him, especially now.
Something like five minutes passed and you knew you didn’t have long before one of the boys — likely Sam — would come knocking to check on you. You flushed the unused toilet so they wouldn’t suspect anything and turned on the faucet, splashing your tear-soaked face with cold water before using a hand towel to wipe it dry. When you emerged, the guys were packing up their duffels.
“Did you find them?” you asked, hopeful.
Dean checked his gun, before flipping the safety on and stuffing it in the back waistband of his jeans. 
“I sure as hell hope so, ‘cause if I’m about to crawl through the goddamn sewers for nothing —”
“They’re down there, Dean,” Sam replied, giving him a pointed look. He turned his attention to you, and if he had noticed anything off, he hadn’t let his face show it. “You coming?”
You grabbed your gun off the dresser and holstered it in reply.
Six hours later, the three of you were sweaty, panting, and splattered in blood after a close fight with dragons in the sewers. Thankfully, you hadn’t had to wade in any actual sewage. You hadn’t said a word to either brother since you had gone to the bathroom six hours ago, and to keep them from growing suspicious of your sudden silence, you opted to take a nap in the backseat of the Impala on the way back to the motel. 
You stirred awake as Dean pulled into the parking lot, barely conscious enough to catch the end of the brothers’ conversation.
“I’ll get her,” Dean said. 
Sam nodded and got out of the car, gently closing the passenger side door before heading inside. 
You rubbed your eyes, blinking away the sleep in them as Dean’s face came into focus. He was looking at you over his shoulder, one arm resting on the top of the front bench seat. 
“Mornin’, sunshine.”
It took a moment for the feeling you had been filled with prior to your nap to come back to you, his words from earlier echoing in your head. I prefer ladies with experience . You shot him a cold glare.
“Alright. What’d I do?” he asked, turning in his seat to better angle himself towards you. 
The question caught you off guard.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You haven’t said a word since we left for that hunt, Y/N.”
“How do you know Sam didn’t do something?”
He replied with a knowing look.
You stared at your hands, clasped together in your lap, and muttered, “It’s nothing. Stupid.”
“C’mon, talk to me,” he urged.
You hated this. How easy he was to talk to. How you had always been able to tell him what was on your mind.
But not this . You couldn’t tell him this. 
You shook your head. 
“Hey,” he said softly, shifting in his seat. He was fully turned around now, reaching out to tilt your chin up, forcing you to look at those green eyes. “Talk to me,” he repeated, no room for argument in his words.
“I can’t,” you whispered. You wanted to throw up. He was your best friend, and you were utterly, irrevocably, head-over-heels in love with him. He preferred girls with experience, and you had none. Not in the way that it mattered. And he had known that, thanks to a late-night stake-out game of Never Have I Ever . 
His jaw clenched. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”
You briefly met his gaze. You couldn’t hold it for long. 
“Was it something I said?” he prodded. 
You stared at the buttons of his open flannel, your eyes quickly darting up to meet his in silent confirmation. 
He sighed, pulling his hand away from your face and folding his arms on top of the backseat, resting his chin on his forearm.
“Do I at least get a hint?”
“Dean, I —”
“C’mon, Y/N. You’ve never not told me anything.”
“Why are you pushing this?”
“Because I can’t stand not talking to you.”
Your heart leaped at that confession, however innocent it might have been. 
“I’m talking to you now, aren’t I?”
“Because I’m making you. You would have silent treatmented me into next week.”
You didn’t respond.
He sighed again, defeated. “Y/N, c’mon. Please? Whatever I said, I’m sorry. I’m sure I didn’t mean it.”
“You didn’t mean that you ‘prefer girls with experience’?” you retorted quite sassily. The question tumbled out before you even had time to think of the implication that came with asking it. 
Dean opened and closed his mouth like a damn fish. 
“Thought so.” You began to move to make your way out of the car, when Dean reached out and grabbed your wrist.
“No,” he finally said. “I didn’t mean it.”
“It’s okay if you do. I told you, it was a dumb thing to be upset about.”
“No, it’s not. I didn’t stop to think about how this case might have been affecting you. You know I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you, right?” 
You swallowed, nodded. His hand felt like fire around your wrist.
“But for what it’s worth, I wasn’t serious. I don’t prefer anyone one way or the other. Sex is sex. If anyone’s willing to have it with me, I consider myself lucky.”
“Romantic,” you quipped.
A smile tugged at his lips. “I could show you, y’know.”
You almost threw up right there in the backseat. Your eyes grew wide.
“What?” you croaked.
“Well, if you’re worried about not having any experience… I just mean I’d be happy to, y’know. Show you the ropes.”
“… Of sex?” Really, you thought it was cute that he had this misconception of you. You knew about the ropes. You’d just never been tied up with them. 
“Of whatever you want.”
“You think I want to have sex with you?” It came out harsher than you meant it to, like part of you still thought you could hide the fact that you were in love with him. Like if you just joked it off it would go away, and you wouldn’t have to cross this line with him, even though you so badly wanted to. But you had to protect yourself, your heart. 
You didn’t miss the flash of hurt in his eyes.
“No, that’s not what I —”
You suddenly felt the need to clarify your question.
“No, I — I didn’t mean it like that either.”
Dean’s face morphed into one of confusion. “…So you do want to have sex with me?”
Your cheeks flushed red, and your throat bobbed. “Uh…”
“Forget it, stupid question, you don’t have to an—” 
“Yeah,” you answered, your voice barely above a whisper. Fuck it. Who were you to hold yourself back from the one thing you’ve been wanting for years? You cleared your throat. “Yeah, I really, really do.”
Dean’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Seriously?”
“Oh, cut the shit, Dean. Like you’re surprised. Everyone wants to have sex with you.”
He scoffed. “ Everyone , Y/N, really?”
“There are literally smutty fanfictions written about you,” you replied, reaching into your back pocket for your phone, dead set on proving your point. 
“Gross. And Becky doesn’t count as everyone.”
“Actually, Becky only writes for Sam.”
You realized what you said at the same time he did, and he eyed you suspiciously.
“Why do you know that?”
God dammit. “I don’t. I mean — I — like, she obviously loves Sam. So, like, she wouldn’t write porn about you. Obviously.”
“Uh huh…” There was an uncomfortable silence for a beat or three. And then, “How much smut have you read about me?”
Your face felt like it had just been rinsed with fucking lava, and you knew it probably looked as red as it, too. 
“None!” you exclaimed, way too quickly. 
Dean smirked. “You do really wanna have sex with me,” he remarked, like he couldn’t believe it.
“Trust me, the urge is fading by the second.”
His grin disappeared almost instantly. “Would it help if I told you that I think about fucking you all the time, too?”
“Well, I don’t think about it all the —”
“Y/N.” He said your name like a warning, and the tone of his voice settled right in your core. 
“Yeah,” you squeaked. “Yeah, that helps.”
“Good,” he smirked, before grabbing his phone from beside him. 
“Uh… What are you doing?” You watched as he scrolled for a second, pressing a button before putting the phone to his ear.
“Telling Sammy to beat it.”
Your eyes grew wide. “What!?” you whisper-yelled. “No! Just — we can just do it back here!”
He gave you a pointed look. “I’m not taking your virginity in the backseat of my car, Y/N.”
“Why not!?”
“Because we’re not sixteen, for one. And for two… I wanna make it special.” He rushed the last bit out, like he was embarrassed to say it. And he should be. You cringed as you heard it. 
“Oh my God,” you began.
“Shut up.”
“You did not just say that.”
“Shut up. Sam, answer your phone, God dammit!”
“I have done, like, almost everything else, you know. In the backseats of many, many cars. You don’t need to make it special for me, Deano,” you teased. 
“For the last time, shut your mouth, or I’m gonna shut it for you,” he said, the look he gave letting you know he wasn’t in the mood to play. No, he wanted to fuck you. Beyond that, he wanted to dominate you. And you were more than happy to submit.
You might have been a virgin physically, but mentally? Mentally, you’d probably give Dean a run for his money. 
Sam didn’t answer. Naturally. He was probably in the shower, but you were kind of grateful because as much as you wanted Dean, you didn’t want to make Sam uncomfortable. Or worse, give him any reason to give you the talk . Because he totally would. After trying his brother two more times, Dean decided it would be better to just get a room of your own, and you were much happier with that decision. 
You watched as he unlocked the door, pushing it open and stepping aside, gesturing for you to go ahead. 
“Ladies first.”
“You mean you’re not gonna carry me over the threshold?” you joked. “Thought you wanted to make this special .”
He gave you an unamused look, and you shot back a sarcastic closed-mouth smile before you were being swept off of your feet and over his shoulder faster than you could process.
“Dean!” you squealed, as he carried you through the doorway, kicking the door shut behind him before practically throwing you onto the bed.
He was hovering over you seconds later, his face a few inches from yours, and the mood shifted from playful to serious.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.
You nodded, your fingers coming up to play with the collar of his flannel.
“If I tell you something, you promise you won’t make fun of me?” you questioned, your eyes glued to the plaid pattern on his shirt.
“Promise.”
“I was kinda… holding out for you.” You drew your eyes up to meet his.
“Seriously?” he asked, half laughing. You could tell it wasn’t because he thought it was funny. It was because he couldn’t believe it.
You swallowed nervously, nodding again as you stared into those green eyes, and you hoped that this meant as much to him as it did to you. Something told you it did.
“I wasn’t kidding, you know,” he said.
You tilted your head in question.
“About making it special for you. I know it’s like, the grossest thing I could have possibly said but, you deserve so much better than me, and so if —”
“There’s no one better for me, you idiot.” And you almost told him everything. That you’ve been in love with him ever since you met one summer at Bobby’s, back when you were just kids. That everything felt like it led up to this moment. That you wanted him to fuck you and make love to you all at once. That you didn’t want this to be the only time he did. But instead, you grabbed his face in your hands and pulled him towards you, your lips meeting in a kiss that felt like it could have powered an entire country’s electric grid. 
He deepened it, and the two of you were nothing but tongues and teeth and lips — it wasn’t sexy. It was hungry. Starved, more like. Like he had been thinking about kissing you just as long as you had been thinking about him. 
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling his hips down towards your denim-covered core, down until you felt the hardness underneath his jeans pressed up against the spot where you needed him most, down until you couldn’t help but grind against it. He moaned as he kissed you, so you did it again. And again. And again. And —
“You need to stop that.” It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command. You noticed that your arms were above your head, his hands pinning your wrists against the mattress. You don’t know when that happened, but you weren’t complaining. In fact, it spurred you on. 
You smiled mischievously and rutted against him once more. 
“What’re you gonna do about it, Winchester?”
He dropped his forehead to yours, steadying his breaths.
“I can fuck you like it’s your first time, or I can fuck you how I actually want to.”
“And how’s that?”
He took a shaky breath, like he was actually having a hard time controlling himself. You felt a sense of pride shoot through you at that.
“Like the fucking brat you are.”
You almost came from that alone. 
Wanna know some common misconceptions about virgins? That they don’t have kinks. That they don’t watch porn. That they don’t have a plethora of sex toys  in their nightstand. That they sit and crochet in their convent dorm room all day. Sure, you were years past the age when girls typically lose their virginity, but you were no saint. In fact, you enjoyed being quite the opposite. And you enjoyed being put in your place. 
“Do your worst.”
It was like something in him snapped. His eyes were lust-blown and hungry and you didn’t miss the way his jaw ticked, and then he was undressing you so fast that you could’ve been part of a quick change act. He muttered something about a light system as he took off your clothes, and you nodded in a way that let him know that you already knew how all of that worked. 
When you were down to just a black lace bra and panties, he paused as his fingers hooked under your waistband. He stared at you, his expression serious, and you knew that he was going to give you one more warning. One more opportunity to say, “Actually, I’d like to have a totally normal, non-kinky, first time experience, please.” But that wasn’t what you wanted. 
“You sure you know what you’re asking for?”
You rolled your eyes. “I trust you. Put me in my goddamn place, Winchester. You’ve only been wanting to do it for the past two hours.”
“Oh, I’ve been waiting to do it for a lot longer than that, sweetheart.”
“Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, yeah,” he replied, huffing a small laugh before pulling off your panties in one swift motion. His hands came to rest on your bare thighs as he locked his eyes with yours. “Any hard limits?”
You shook your head. “I trust you. I mean, like, don’t pee on me or —”
“Not gonna happen. But… most everything else?”
“Dean,” you began, looking at him pointedly, “I trust you. If it helps, I’ve used like, toys on myself before. And I don’t mean just a vibrator, I mean like… well, you get the gist.”
“So I don’t have to go easy on you, is what you’re saying?”
“Put me in my place,” you repeated.
“Alright,” he replied, his hands gripping the underside of your thighs as he roughly pushed them apart, “but just so we’re clear, that’s the last order you’ll be giving tonight.”
Your throat bobbed and you nodded. “Yes, Sir.” 
You meant it as a joke, but it didn’t come out that way. No, the title came out in a way that made his jaw clench and his eyes darken and it stoked the fire raging in your core. 
Dean didn’t waste any more time talking after that, his tongue moving through your folds seconds later, drawing gasps and soft moans from your lips. You arched into him, your hands in his hair, silently begging for more. It wasn’t the first time a man had gone down on you, but it was the first time it felt like this . 
He pinned your hips down to the bed with one hand splayed over your abdomen and then his tongue was inside you and “eating you out” didn’t come close to describing his ministrations. He was devouring you like his life depended on it, like the sounds you were making were a goddamn Zeppelin song that he wasn’t anywhere near done listening to. And then he added a finger, and then another, and it didn’t matter how many times you had imagined him doing this while you had your own fingers inside you — nothing would have prepared you for how good the real thing felt.
“Oh — fuck,” you gasped, and he chuckled into your sex and you had to actively think about not coming on his face and ending this whole experience early. 
“You’re close,” he observed, flicking his tongue over your clit as he continued to pump his fingers in and out, and it was so fucking hot how he just knew that. It was like he had been fucking you for years, the way he knew your body, your tells.
You nodded. “Mmhm,” you confirmed, unable to form words with the way the coil in your abdomen was tightening. 
“Hold it,” he ordered.
Your eyes shot open, because it wasn’t the command you were expecting, and you tried to lift your head to shoot him a cold glare but you couldn’t. And he just kept pumping, flicking, licking, chuckling — fucking asshole.
“Mm — fuck — please!” you cried out.
“When you come tonight, it’s gonna be on my cock. So hold it.”
You didn’t think you could. You had played this game with yourself and your vibrator and your self-control was majorly lacking and God his mouth and fingers felt so fucking good and you were there, the coil wound so goddamn tight, it would take nothing for you to let it snap, and then — 
He stopped.
He pulled his mouth away from your core, his fingers out of your pussy, and you were writhing underneath him, because you had been right there and you needed him to be touching you again right the fuck now.
You whined.
He spanked your pussy. Not hard or anything, just enough to see if it was okay with you, and fuck, was it. 
“Stop whining,” he demanded. He positioned himself so he was hovering over you again, his face inches away from yours as he stared into your eyes. “Or I’ll give you something to whine about.”
You were curious as to what that something would be, but sensed that right now wouldn’t be the best time for that question. You nodded instead.
“Good girl.” He smiled when he said it, like he knew exactly what those two words would do to you. 
You squirmed underneath him, it had been too long since he’d last touched you. Too long being thirty seconds at most, but still. It had felt like hours.
“Has anyone ever told you,” he began, dipping his head to place a soft kiss on your collarbone, “that you are very,” another kiss to the other side, “very,” one more to the middle of your chest, “impatient?” He slowly pulled down the left cup of your bra, your breast spilling out of it. “Makes me wanna take my time.” 
His eyes stayed glued to yours as his head moved down to your hardened nipple, taking it into his mouth at a goddamn snail’s pace. You arched your back, and he let you this time, chuckling at how easy it was to make your body react. His other hand slipped underneath you, unclasping your bra in a way that reminded you that he had a lot of experience doing so, and you refused to water the seed of jealousy that had sprouted from the thought. It didn’t matter that he had done this a million times. All that mattered was that he was doing it now, with you. 
He pulled your bra off and threw it haphazardly over his shoulder, and you were suddenly very aware of the fact that you were completely naked, and he still had 87 fucking layers on, the outermost of which was still speckled with dragon blood, and it’s not that you were anywhere near clean, but you certainly didn’t want those clothes touching your bare skin.
“Dean?” you rasped, and he pulled away from your nipple to give you his full attention.
“You okay, sweetheart? Do you want to st—”
“No! God, no. It’s just —” you sighed, exasperated. This was dumb. You were going to stop him for this? Your eyes landed on a spot of blood on the shoulder of his flannel. Yes, yes you were, because that’s gross. “It’s just that your clothes are covered in monster blood and I’m like, totally naked, and I don’t want —”
He chuckled like you were the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. “I gotchya, baby.”
Baby. Baby ? You tried not to overthink the pet name as he climbed off the bed to take his clothes off, watching you the entire time. Sweetheart, you’d been called a million times. He called everyone sweetheart. But baby? Baby was his car, and no one else. Unless, that’s what you were to him now. His, and no one else’s. You filed the thought away under “Things to Think About After You Lost Your Virginity to Dean Winchester”.
He was in nothing but his boxers now, his cock already hard underneath them, and you bit your lip as he hooked his thumbs under the waistband and slid them off. And then, there he was, exactly like you’d imagined him but also better, because this was real and happening. You gaped at him, at his size. He wasn’t any bigger than the fake one you had in your nightstand, but that one was nine inches and you could never fit it all the way in. He was perfect. All of him. 
“You okay?” he asked again, crawling back onto the bed.
“Mhm,” you managed, gulping.
He was on top of you again, his forearm holding up his weight as his free hand came to grab your thigh, hooking it over his hip and leaning down to kiss you. You could feel him against your core, his cock moving between your folds as he moved his hips, teasing you with it. 
“Dean,” you breathed.
“Hm?”
“I want…” you couldn’t find it in yourself to finish your request.
“I know, sweetheart,” he whispered.
You decided you liked “baby” better. 
“Please.”
“I thought you wanted me to put you in your place?”
You shook your head. “N-next time. Just, please .”
His eyebrows shot up, and you realized what you had said. 
“Next time, huh?” he asked, with that shit-eating grin of his. 
You rolled your eyes. He stopped moving, the smile wiped off his lips as he gripped you underneath your chin, somewhere between rough and gentle, the look on his face telling you he wasn’t messing around. 
“Roll your eyes at me again, and next time I’ll really do my worst.”
You bit back a smile, and you just knew he was thinking, Brat. But you asked your question anyway.
“But not this time?” There was a devilish gleam in your eyes. You were tempting him, and he knew it.
“Do you ever get tired of being such a brat?” 
“Dunno,” you shrugged. “Do you ever get tired of it?” 
His jaw tensed, and he forced a sardonic, closed-lip smile. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Hm. But not this time, right?”
“Y/N —” he warned.
“Afraid you’re gonna hurt me? Scare me? What’s really keeping you from putting me in my place… Sir?”
For the second time that night, something in him snapped. You yelped as he flipped you over and grabbed your hips, dragging them upwards so your ass was in the air and your chest was on the mattress. Four hits to your cheeks came down in quick succession, and when you reached your hand behind you to block them, it was quickly pinned to the small of your back. Three more hits followed, accompanied by a pathetic, “Ow!” from your lips.
“Color?” he questioned roughly.
“So fucking green,” you replied, dazed.
Seven more hits followed, each one harder than the last, and you didn’t think there was anything better than the sting you were feeling right now. There was nothing more you wanted than for him to mark you up like this.
“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he commented. Five more hits. 
“Oh, fuck!” you cried out at the last hit, one that felt like it reverberated through your entire body. One that definitely left a handprint behind. 
“Yeah, but you like it, don’t you?” It was a rhetorical question. He spanked you four more times. “You just wanted me to mark you up, is that it? Think of me every time you sit down for the next few days, hm?” Three more. 
“Mmph!” Your cries were muffled by the comforter. 
“Yeah, I can tell. Look at this fucking mess.” He dragged his fingers through your soaked folds. “Jesus Christ,” he said under his breath, and then he was flipping you back over. He nestled himself between your legs, his tip teasing your entrance. His expression softened as he stared into your eyes. “Are you sure?”
You nodded. “Yeah,” you replied breathily. 
He slid into you slow and easy, your mouth open in a silent moan as he bottomed out. 
“Good?” he asked.
“So fucking good.”
When he started to move, you thought you were going to die. In a good way. In a way that made you decide right there and then that when the time did come, this was how you wanted to go out. 
“Harder,” you encouraged, and he obliged. “Faster.”
He was properly fucking you now. Hard and fast and dirty. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your heels digging into his ass, forcing him to go deeper. His head was buried in your neck, your nails were clawing up his back, and the room was filled with moans and pants and expletives that put a sailor’s mouth to shame. 
“Shit, baby,” he panted into your neck. “God damn, you feel good. So fucking tight.” He sped up his thrusts, and the bed was squeaking so much that you thought it was going to fall apart underneath you, but you were too far gone to care. He reached a hand down in between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, circling it expertly. You were on the precipice of your release in seconds. And then —
“Come. Soak that fucking cock, baby. Come for me.”
And you screamed loud enough to get both you and him kicked out of the motel if they cared enough as your orgasm ripped through you. He fucked you through it, his pace only faltering moments later, right before he pulled out and painted your stomach white. It looked like a Jackson Pollock on your abdomen. Kinda hot, actually. 
“You okay?” Dean asked, looking down at you as he finally caught his breath.
“More than,” you smiled.
He mirrored the look on your face before crawling off the bed and heading to the bathroom. He came back moments later with a damp washcloth, gently cleaning his masterpiece off of your skin. When he was done, he threw it across the room, aiming for the bathroom, and it landed on the tile in front of the toilet. He laid down next to you, pulling you into his chest as he pressed a soft kiss into your hair, and you wanted to ask so many questions, all at once. What were you two now? How long had he been wanting this? Would there be a next time? Instead, you opted for —
“You know in fanfictions, they write you as a submissive most of the time.”
He snorted. “They’re half right.”
“A switch?” you asked, surprised. “Lucky me.”
He chuckled softly. “Sorry about your ass.”
You shrugged. “I was asking for it.”
“Oh, you were definitely asking for it. Still, I… I dunno. It was your first time, I didn’t want to get too —”
“It was perfect, Dean.”
“Yeah?”
You nodded, smiling, dozing off already. “Yeah.”
3K notes · View notes
deadsetobsessions · 6 months
Text
“Tim. Timmy. Ancients, kid, what are you doing?!”
Danny Phantom smacked away the instinctual terror of seeing an eight year old dangling out of a third story window.
“I gotta go take pictures of Batman and Robin! They’re out tonight!”
Danny thought that his barely healed vivisection wound might bust open from the sheer stress.
“Setting aside how you even know the patrol schedule of honest to god vigilantes, why’d you choose the window? The house is literally empty, just walk out the front door, for Ancient’s sake.”
Tim paused, a motion Danny was overwhelmingly thankful for, and blinked sheepishly.
“Um… for the aesthetic?”
Danny allowed the silence to settle between them before dropping his head into his waiting hands. Tim panicked.
“You- you can’t stop me!”
And yeah, Danny really can’t. In the months he’s been mooching off of the Drakes (not that they’ll notice), Danny’s learned that Tim Drake is nothing but relentless in the pursuit of whatever he sets his mind on. Whether thet might be putting hot chocolate in his cereal (which Danny doesn’t actually mind) or, apparently, stalking a pair of vigilantes.
He wanted to hack into the library cameras? Danny had to hover just to make sure the kid didn’t get caught after arguing for an hour about it.
He walked out of that argument with a loss, yes, but he also let Tim know that Danny cared about him. Danny also walked out of that argument with a new hatred for Janet and Jack Drake and his mind (just as diabolical as Tim’s) whirring with plans to haunt them.
Tim is never ever introducing his new little brother to Tucker. Ever.
“Okay. I don’t want to see you take unnecessary risks, but I’m also aware that I can’t really stop you. So. I’ll go with you.”
Maybe this is like… Tim’s obsession? When he put it that way, Danny lost the fight to prevent this tiny kid from what clearly is the only joy in his poor life.
“But…!” Tim’s eyes darted to Danny’s chest, the vivisection scars still fresh in his mind.
“They’re healed.” Danny pulled his dumbass little brother off the window sill, core settling as Tim follows willingly. “I’ll make us invisible and fly with you behind Batman and Robin so you can get even better shots. You can’t make any noise, though. That camera got a shutter sound, right?”
“Yeah!” Tim’s face brightened and Danny melted. He shoved a bottle of the (incredibly stinky but helpful in a pinch) ecto contaminated tap water into a backpack, along with some snacks and a blanket for when Tim gets cold. Danny’ll be fine, he’s got a Space Core. The cold his kind of his thing.
“Cool. We’ll stay out of earshot. If things starts to get too dicey, we’re heading home, okay?”
“Okay!” The look Tim shot him is full of trust and adoration and it makes Danny’s human heart squeeze painfully. “C’mon! I don’t want to be late!”
“We need to talk about your stalking tendencies later,” Danny said fondly.
“I’m not stalking them! I’m observing them!”
“Uh-huh,” Danny drawled, picking Tim up and making them intangible and invisible. “They’re not a bird observatory and also, even the birds in the observatory knows they’re being watched. Batman and Robin clearly doesn’t.”
Danny felt more than saw Tim’s pout.
He laughs as they fly just below the Gotham-brand of toxic smog. He waves to the City’s Spirit as Tim cranes his head around to catch sight of Batman and Robin.
“There!”
Danny obliged. With Danny’s flight, Tim got much better- much closer- photos than he would have originally.
Danny hung back as the pair of vigilantes swooped down to take care of a mugging.
“Wanna mess with them?” He grinned down at his little brother, canines glinting.
Tim looked up at him, admiration and mischievousness in his gaze. “Yes.”
Gotham parted her clouds in response to their glee.
——
Dick Grayson, AKA Robin, finally understood why criminals are so creeped out by him.
Other than the whole flippy child kicking grown people’s asses and winning thing, obviously (that, and Batman loomed menacingly behind him everytime a criminal even looked at Robin wrong).
Batman had picked up on it first, but the for entirety of their patrol, they kept hearing eerie little giggles and laughter. Haunting them. Never distracting. But persistent. And so creepy. He got goosebumps.
“B, I wanna go home.”
“Hm.” That’s a resounding yes if Dick’s ever heard one.
Maybe Alfred can chase away the giggles and chuckles.
Robin shudders and follows the Bat home.
——
Danny lowered the temperature as he held Tim up near Batman’s cowl so his brother could giggle menacingly. He knew for a fact that any recording device would get completely cram led by the sheer output of ambient ectoplasm he’s emitting. Plus, it freaked Robin out and raised the hairs on the back of the vigilantes’ heads. He tones it down when he noticed Tim rubbing his hands together.
He let out a quiet laugh, enjoying the flight with his brother in his arm and the light of the stars (thanks, Gotham) at his back.
——
Danny: oh, this kid’s got an Obsession, gotta let him do it safely, he’s a liminal from all that tap water
Danny: *forgets Tim isn’t a ghost nor is he from Amity and is therefore extremely breakable*
——
Danny and Tim: doing crime is a good bonding activity
Batman and Robin, who wants to say no it isn’t but they’re literally a pair of illegal vigilantes:
——
Dick as Robin: *cackles*
Tim, learning habits from stalking them: *giggles*
Gotham Criminals: *fear*
4K notes · View notes
marvelstan0905 · 11 days
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"What do you mean a real baby?!"
Kenji Sato X [afab]reader [Oneshot]
TW : spouse reader/petnames/implied sex/pregnancy/Emi mention/panic/mixed POV
Hi guys so I made this on a whim, lmao. Just came to my head lmao. I haven't properly proofread it yet but I hope you like it😫🥺
©️Rights reserved! No copying or plagiarism or translation of any kind!
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He didn't know what to do. Kenji found it. The thing that turned his world into a total 180 once again. As Kenji stared down at the positive pregnancy test he found in trash, Kenji's mind was racing a million miles per house. He had just started adjusting to life without Emi, he would visit the kaiju infant from time to time but now this...was something else.
"How the hell did this happen?! I mean..I know how it happened but how?!" Kenji murmured to himself. His wife was at the store and he was taking the time to properly process everything. "Ken Sato..y-you can do it...no you can't! Oh my God!"
Kenji started panicking a little. Mina tried to calm him down. "Ken, you need to calm down. Your heart is racing. You'll be fine. A human child is almost the same as Emi" Mina reported. The robot assistant hovered next to Kenji as he clawed at his hair panicked.
"MINA! What do I do? That's an actual baby! Something my size! No...even smaller" Kenji gulped whiles hugging his knees. Kenji didn't even notice that the door had opened and his wife had returned from the store.
"Baby? You okay? What's going on?" I asked deeply worried as I sat down on my knees on the bed. I gently pet my husband's head. I looked around to find anything to give me a clue as to what made my husband panic so much. My eyes stopped as I found the positive test, I had taken a few hours ago. I hadnt been feeling well for a few weeks, before then Kenji I had been going at it like rabbits so it was kinda..expected. With widened eyes, I took a deep breath and gently hugged him. "Talk to me. Whats going on your head? And yes, I am pregnant"
Kenji's world turned upside once again. He felt alot of things now with this confirmation. Worry, happiness, panic, joy, fear. It was all over the place. "I mean..wow...I'm worried about taking care of a human baby this time.. they're much smaller" Kenji started and exhaled deeply. I hummed listening to him. "Don't get me wrong I'm happy..I'm j-just worried I'm not up to it. This baby is different from a Kaiju. W-What if i end up like my dad? Or my kids end up hating me later because of Ultraman"
"Kenji..breath. Deep breathes, okay? Shhh.."I soothed my husband as I listened to him. I put my hands on his shoulder and gently massaged him to ease his tension. "Honey..I know you're worried but trust me, you've got this. You're gonna be an excellent father. Think about it..remember how you took care of Emi. You're her dad too" I started whiles kissing his face softly.
"You're gonna be a better father than you're dad. You know firsthand how it felt with your dad and I know you wouldn't want our baby to feel how you did. You're gonna be fine. One day at a time. Plus we took care of Emi so well and look her..she's the most beautiful and friendly Kaiju" I reassured him. Kenji took deep breathes and listened to me. His stress and worries were eased but not completely.
"You're right. You're right.." Kenji murmured.
"I'm always right" I joked playfully whiles nuzzling into his nose. Kenji rolled his eyes playfully and kissed my cheek.
"See, baby. You're gonna be fine, okay? The best father ever. Look at our baby Emi. You have some daddy experience" I smiled whiles kissing his face. Kenji chuckled and returned the affection. Kenji began rambling about his excitement. I cupped his face as I listened to him.
"Bet you wanna go and tell Emi right?" I giggled whiles tilting my head with shake of my head. Kenji bit his lip in pure excitement and nodded. I pecked his lips. "Go on. Tell her I said hi, okay? Don't be too late ,okay? We have a lot to talk about"
"I won't. I love you, sweetheart" Kenji laughed and stood up as he opened the doors to the balcony before jumping out and transforming into the giant of light he was.
"I love you too, baby"
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1K notes · View notes
rebeccccccaaa · 2 months
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Poker Face!
_______________
Spencer Reid x Reader
:: It’s game night at Rossi’s, a little pasta al dente, poker chips from Emily’s place, and a little too much Italian red wine. Poker after hours becomes a new playing field when you and Spencer decide to finish your game of blackjack back in his place. ::
:: warnings :: smuttt! and super mushy gushy fluff, sex under the influence (both parties drank alcohol), strip poker (kinda you’re playing blackjack), afab!reader, no mention of contraceptives oops...
:: authors’ notes :: i didn’t realize until i finished the story that spencer probably has his own poker set, he’s literally from vegas; anyway thanks for all the love on my last fic too sweet, hope you guys enjoy this one just as much <3
WC~ 3.1 k
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“Ok, ok! That’s enough!” Emily shouted, swinging her glass around. 
“Careful, Prentiss. This carpet is fine Italian wool. Gifted from my first mother-in-law,” Rossi scolded, Hotch chuckling beside him. 
“You guys are relentless,” she continued.
“I can beat him, I know it!” you shouted, your eyes comically wide. 
“No shot, sweetheart. Reid is literally banned from every casino in Vegas, you think you can really beat him?” Derek commented.
“I may not be banned from Vegas casinos, but I never lose Blackjack,” you argued.
“Honey, you’ve lost eight games in a row!” JJ shouted, laughing and holding her stomach. 
“Nevermind that! I’m gonna beat you Reid, if it's the last thing I do,” you narrowed your eyes playfully at Spencer, who sat as dealer with a giant grin on his face.
“I hate to interrupt this incredibly captivating game of Blackjack, but I’m kicking you out. It's late and an old man’s got to get some rest,” Rossi interrupted, erupting a series of ‘Boo’s’ and groans. 
“Come on, come on. Call your DD’s, call your taxi cabs. Or if you want to stay, you can start washing the dishes,” he bargained. 
Suddenly, all at once, everyone stood up practically scrambling and giggling like kids to avoid cleaning up. Penelope, Emily, and Derek hopped into a cab and Hotch drove JJ home then himself considering he hadn't anything to drink that night. That left you and Spencer, lingering on the sidewalk nudging each other in a fit of giggles. 
“I assume you’re gonna take a cab?” he asked you.
“That’s the plan.”
“So we can share since I don’t live far from you. I’ll walk from your place,” he suggested. 
“Oh no, no. Look what I snatched when everyone started leaving,” you pulled out the briefcase of poker chips that Emily had brought for that night out of your tote, “We’re going to your place and finishing what we started.” 
“Oh boy, you have no idea how long it's gonna take. We’re gonna be up all night!” Spencer laughed, and you gasped. 
“You’re an asshole,” you shoved him, before calling a taxi.
You squeezed in the back of the cab, legs bumping against each other. You felt your skin light up, you’ve always felt a certain way about Spencer. I mean who wouldn’t? Well actually, not a lot of people. You always tried to hide the pangs of jealousy or your faces of reluctance whenever the women you were working with or interviewed on cases would flirt with him, unnecessarily albeit. This happened more often than you care to admit or notice. 
You walked into Spencer’s apartment, tossing your bag on the couch before falling to your knees and putting the briefcase on his coffee table. You opened it up and began shuffling the cards, quite intensely to make sure Spencer wasn’t going to cheat. You knew he wasn’t, his brain was too smart, but you did it for confidence instead. 
“Do you want anything to drink?” he asked from the kitchen.
“Whatcha you got?” you asked.
“I’ve got a couple of beers, probably a little old. Oh, I still have the bottle of wine that Rossi gave to us for the new year,” he told you.
“Oh! Bring the wine! We’ll drink the beers later,” you winked at him, “Let’s get the fucking party started.”
It was late into the night now. You lost count how many times you’d lost to Spencer already. Just a couple of hours passed, and the wine was almost finished. You and Spencer couldn’t stop laughing and wiggling around. As Spencer shuffled the deck, a request you made him do after every turn, you came up with a devilish idea. One that would definitely get you in trouble should the outcome be anything other than what you would hope. 
“Ooh,” you cooed, mischievously.
“What?” Spencer questioned.
“Oh, nothing, just had an idea,” you were smirking, or rather trying really hard not to burst into laughter. 
“This can’t be good,” he mumbled, shaking his head. 
“Why don’t we spice things up, shall we?”
“No, no way,” Spencer already knew what you were going to say. 
“Strip Poker!” 
“No!” he shouted, a big smile on his face contradicting his words.
“What, you scared? Scared that suddenly I’m starting to beat you and you’re gonna have to take all your clothes off?” you teased.
“No, I am a gentleman and I’m not gonna sit through watching you take all your clothes to prove a point,” he argued sassily.
“You are way too confident for your own good, Dr. Spencer Reid. You’re just chicken.”
“Ok, fine then. You dealer, or am I?” he asked, pouring the last bit of wine into your cup. 
“Why don’t you hit me this time,” you said. 
“You got it,” he responded, “Care to shuffle while I grab the beers?”
“Of course. About time we crack those open,” you smiled widely. 
Now sitting down, face to face. Staring intensely at each other for a moment, hints of mischief and amusement in both your eyes. As you shuffled the cards well, Spencer couldn’t help notice the way your eyes were practically sparkling in the warm light of his apartment. How soft your skin looked in the light too. He doesn’t know when it happened. If it happened just now, or maybe he’s always felt this way about you. 
Maybe it was those times where he felt a little more protective over you than the others on more brutal cases. The feeling of responsibility for you, to guide you, when you first join the team since you were the same age. Or maybe it was when you let him practically talk your ear off about peculiar facts regarding the case you had wrapped up. The small smile of your face knowing he thrived in these moments. The sweet giggle you let out when Morgan and Prentiss groaned knowing he would begin yet another tangent. 
Yeah, it was definitely then he realized how special you were and how much he wanted to keep you in his life; in more ways than one.
But in this moment, when you handed him the cards with the most devilish smirk on your face, Spencer felt a wave of avidity, longing for you more than he ever has before. He felt so conflicted about the game you were about to play. He respected you so much and yet craved to see you, to have you, in this very way for so long already. He didn’t know what to do. He dealt the cards however, entertaining the idea, and you tapped the table for cards before taking a big swig of your beer.
“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, Spencer’s breath hitched. 
You took off your earrings first and Spencer quirked an eyebrow. 
“What? Were you expecting me to take off my shirt right away?”
“No,” he shrugged before giving you the deck to shuffle again. 
“I swear to-” you cursed, pulling off one of your rings this time.
Your shoes came off, then your socks. All your accessories were scattered on the table before you. The last game you stood up unbuttoning your pants. Spencer clenched his jaw, averting his eyes downward as you peeled your pants down your legs. It took quite literally everything in him to not drool over you. You sank back down to the ground, the bottom half of your body shielded by the table and Spencer looked back at you again. He dealt the cards. You asked for a card, and Spencer knew then you would lose. The probability was certain. When he hit Blackjack and you didn’t, Spencer gulped and you sighed in defeat. 
Staring boldly at Spencer, you disrobed your last garment that would give you some kind of modesty. Your bra is on full display with nothing else but your pair of underwear. You had a crucial decision to make if you ended up losing again and you were seriously considering that would be the case, the butterflies erupting violently in your belly. 
“We don’t have to keep going,” Spencer cleared his throat.
“And why would I do that?” Maybe it was the alcohol in your system that gave you this sudden courage, this seduction. You were starting to have fun seeing Spencer squirming on the couch, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. You suddenly wanted to egg this round on as long as you can. 
“Ok, then,” he muttered, as he dealt the cards, slowly this time.
Spencer had a face down card, assuming it was a value of ten like always, and an eight. You had a seven and a three, you were fucked. You needed an ace and you’d hit blackjack, or you could build up; but that’s risky. Maybe Spencer can go over. You had a chance, you know it. Your chest was moving fast and shallow, but your face was stoic and firm. Spencer on the other hand was antsy; his eyes frantic and his leg bouncing. You knew he was staring at your chest. You planned to use it to your advantage. Was it fair game? Yeah, yeah it was. It wasn’t your fault he was distracted.
“Hit me,” you egged.
“You got it,” he responded. 
A five. Fuck. 
Spencer hit himself and he drew a seven. Those are bad cards. He most likely went over and you might actually finally beat him. 
“One more time, boy wonder,” you snapped. A six. A beautiful six of hearts. 
“I stand,” he mutters, probably knowing he lost. 
“Let’s see those cards, baby,” you teased.
“You first,” he told you, and placed your cards. 
“Blackjack, baby!” 
Spencer laid his cards revealing his seven and eight and underneath a nine, he busted; the cards of course. You won, you finally won. You jumped up in celebration, prancing in your undergarments around the room giggling and cheering. 
“I did it! I fucking did it! I beat the boy genius, fair and fucking square! You lose Spencer, loser!” you shouted taunting him and he couldn’t help the smile painted in his blushing face; he almost forgot you were prancing around almost naked in the middle of his apartment. 
“I- I was distracted,” he shuttered. 
“Damn right you were,” you joked, squeezing your breasts to flaunt them in his face. 
“It wasn’t fair game,” he bantered.
“It wasn’t fair game, my ass. I won and you lost, and you’re being a sore loser,” you mocked as you walked towards him like a panther, playfulness and seduction dripping from your tongue. 
Spencer took the moment you walked near and grabbed your wrist yanking you to stumble into his lap. You were shocked, surprised, a little turned on. You held onto his shoulders, your breathing a little quicker than before. You tried to convince yourself it was from the celebratory dance and not the growing bulge from Spencer that poked you from beneath. 
“I told you, I was distracted,” he told you, his hands finding a place at their hips. Fingers caressing delicately the hem of your underwear. 
“Blah, blah,” you whispered.
“Don’t give me that.”
“Now, Spence, I believe there is something you have to do, is there not?” you whispered.
“What’s that?” he bantered.
“You lost.”
“Right, unfairly I might add,” he joked.
“If all you’re gonna do is talk, then let me do the honors,” you told him. 
“Be my guest.”
Your fingers pulled gently at his tie he wore, pulling over his head and tossing it to the side on the floor. You started unbuttoning his shirt, Spencer staring with heavy eyes at you as you did so.
“I thought we were only taking off one item. We should play another round then if you want my shirt off,” he teased you, bringing his hands to gently hold your wrists.
“Like that’s gonna happen,” you rolled your eyes playfully. 
Spencer relaxed against the back of the couch as you unbutton his shirt all the way. You brought your lips down to kiss softly at his collarbones and his shoulder. Moving along his chest to kiss the other side. His hands moved slowly against your hips, fingers sliding between the fabric of your underwear and your skin. Your skin erupted in chills, a tingle running through your spine making your ears feel hot. You dragged your nose along his strong jawline before nipping your teeth playfully against his cheek. 
He brought his hands up, fingertips tracing your spine until he reached your bra. He skillfully unhooked it leaving you a bit breathless for just a second but a second too long. You could feel it, without even needing to look at him, to know he had such a teasing smile on his gorgeous face. You wanted nothing more than to kiss it off him. 
You shrugged your bra off, tossing behind him giving him a playful wink which made him chuckle. You brought his hands to your breasts as you pulled his head towards you by the back of his neck to kiss him feverishly. Something you both had wanted to do for quite some time now. You wiggled your hips a bit, feeling the prodding against your center, which made Spencer groan lowly in the kiss; his hands squeezing your breasts hard in discomfort. 
“Fuck, you’re gonna drive me insane,” he told you.
“Let me say hi to your little friend, Spence. Or do you want to play for that too?” you taunted him.
“God, no. I couldn’t wait a whole other hour for you to beat me again,” he bantered making you scoff and roll your eyes; his hands shot straight to his zipper to pull his pants down just enough for the both of you. 
You were practically itching to get your panties off. Standing up suddenly, both you and Spencer reached instinctively to pull them off you, his lips attaching themselves to your soft belly and hips. He freed himself from the constricting fabric of his pants and pulled you down, or rather yanked you to him. You couldn’t help the bubbly laugh that came from you making Spencer smile blissfully. 
You bite your lip as you reach between your bodies, lining Spencer up against you perfectly. The warmth radiating from you was driving him crazy. It took everything in him to not suddenly take control and rut his hips against you. You sank slowly down on his length, not so little, you thought yourself.
“Oh jeez, I feel like I could come already,” you gasped, the pressure building in the pit of your stomach felt already overwhelming. Maybe it was the fact you hadn’t had sex in years. You felt starved of this kind of touch, this kind of intimacy. The kind of feeling of Spencer’s cold fingertips touching and gliding across your skin like you were glass. Yeah, that was the feeling you didn’t know you needed, you didn’t realize you craved so much until this very moment. 
“I’m a bit embarrassed to admit the same,” he chuckled breathlessly, “If you don’t start moving, I’m not gonna be able to hold myself back any longer.”
You took this as the green light to start rocking your hips back and forth. One hand resting against his cheek and the other stabilizing yourself against the frame of the couch. Spencer’s hands rocked with you, his way of helping and understanding the rhythm you were going. He started, with gaining confidence, to buck his hips into you and that’s when the pleasure began to build. You panted heavily above him, moans every now and then escaping your mouth to echo against the walls of Spencer’s small apartment. 
“Shit. You feel so good,” he breathed out, “I thought I’d last longer.”
“Please, please don’t come yet,” you begged; bringing your forehead to his. You could see his skin becoming shiny with sweat, his cheeks flush with redness. Spencer, determined to make you come before him, or at the very least with him, reached between your thighs rubbing fast and swift circles against your clit. Your hips jerked with pleasure and Spencer’s name dripped from your lips like honey. 
“Oh, that’s it,” Spencer whispered. His free hand came up and pulled you in a passionate and sloppy kiss. His tongue entwined with your and you moaned wildly as did he. His brain was fuzzy, not that your’s wasn’t also, with the sounds of sex, the rhythm of your hips, the warmth of your slick soaking his fingers. 
“I’m close, fuck I’m so close, Spence,” you whined.
“Let go, sweetheart.”
“Ngh!” you moaned loudly. You dipped your head forward resting your forehead in the crook of his neck. Your bodies were so close, your bare chests pressed against each other. You both could feel the other’s breath and slowly you began to match each other’s erratic rhythm the closer you got to your climaxes. You messily pressed your lips against Spencer’s one last time before the wave of electrifying pleasure overcame you. 
When you came down from your high, all you could feel and hear in that moment was Spencer. His soft pants brushing your ear, his arms cradling you close, his subtle leg shaking from what you assume was him also coming with you. 
“That was really good,” you giggled.
“It really was,” he agreed.
“I’m gonna tell everyone about this,” you whispered wickedly. 
“What?” Spencer questioned fearfully. 
“I beat you in Blackjack,” you reminded him, making him laugh loudly. 
“Give it a rest you would?” he sighed. 
“No way. I’m gonna tell everyone. And everyone’s gonna tease you because I beat you fair and square. Unless, you wanna admit that my boobs were distracting you from your card counting tricks,” you teased.
“Alright, you won fair and square,” he smiled blissfully at you, his eyes soft and gentle in the warm light.
You giggled sweetly bringing him in a tender kiss, definitely not for the last time that night. Your bodies were entwined for the rest of the night until the tepid sunrays peaked meekly through the curtains of Spencer’s bedroom window. The two of you sharing giggles between the sheets with his arms embracing you the way they had been all night. Needless to say, blackjack continues to be your favorite poker game. Especially now more than ever. 
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steddiewithachance · 6 months
Text
I'm Here on Business
Wayne is a regular at the bookstore Steve works at and badgers Steve into going on a blind date with his kid.
For @extocancer Happy New Years!!! I hope you enjoy your presents ◡̈
***
It's a quiet night in the little bookstore on the corner of Brinks and Williams. Steve is sitting behind the check-out counter flicking the leaf of a potted pothos placed next to the register. Soft music plays from the radio behind him.
Steve likes taking the evening shifts at the shop just to see the place warmly lit up by all of the eclectic and ornate lamps that Amber, the owner, has collected. The store doesn't give him migraines from obnoxious fluorescent light, which has been an issue at previous jobs.
Ever since Robin moved out of their apartment for Grad school, it's been upsetting to be at home alone at night. Without her company, the couch feels longer. And without her unhinged apartment decor, the walls feel taller and colder. Consequently, Steve has taken on more work hours instead of being home.
Plus, he has kind of fallen in love with reading. It came as a shock to him that he could enjoy it as much as he does. It started when his all-female team of coworkers began ranting to each other about these romance novels they were all into. He felt a little left out and decided to give one of them a try. It turns out that reading was actually a really great coping mechanism for dealing with his temporary loss of Robin.
The nicest, and most surprising thing to come out of this job though, is probably Wayne. A one-time customer turned regular, turned tentative friend for Steve. He's got a caring, parental energy that Steve's own parents never had.
The guy looks like he'd have a gruff or standoffish personality. His face naturally rests in a frown and he's got receding grey hair. He wears a flannel every day without fail; he's got a million different colors of them and Steve has even made a game of predicting which one he'll be wearing when he comes in.
"Did ya guess right today, boy?" Wayne will ask.
"No," Steve often admits glumly. "The universe told me you'd be wearing your green and blue one."
So anyway, Wayne comes around a lot to make small talk. He often mentions how he misses his son, Eddie. He's so stiff with personal information about his kid, but one time he let it slip that Eddie was on tour with his band. Steve had a field day afterward colluding with Google to find out exactly who Wayne's son was.
Eddie Munson, lead singer and guitarist of rock group Corroded Coffin.
Steve hadn't heard of ‘em but they certainly have a following. He listened to some of their stuff, to give himself some context for the next time Wayne brought up Eddie's music. It was nice enough, the guy has a good voice.
Steve's been waiting for Wayne to come in tonight. He's later than usual and it would be ridiculous for Steve to worry about a man who probably just thinks of Steve as that one kid who works at the bookstore. He may not come in at all tonight, and that would be fine too. Steve's still holding out on him pulling up in his... yellow flannel.
Steve's about to cave and start the next book in the current series he's reading when the door jingles. Wayne pushes inside in his mother fucking yellow flannel.
"Yellow Flannel!" Steve exclaims. Wayne chuckles and drops a book on the counter followed by a receipt.
"You got me right today?" Wayne asks fondly.
"Yup. It's been a while. I was aching for a win." Steve starts returning Wayne's book for him without giving him slack this time. Wayne treats the store like a library and Steve doesn't have the heart to tell him it's not allowed.
"Was this book any good?" Steve throws Wayne's receipt back at him and starts moving around the counter to put it back on the shelf for some other historical fiction lover to purchase.
"It was just alright." Wayne follows behind him languidly, eyeing the rows of colorful book spines for something that catches his eye. "But actually I'm here on business tonight."
Steve leans on the shelf and waits impatiently for Wayne to tell him what sort of business he's on.
"I think you ought to go on a date with Eddie. I think you two'd compliment each other."
Well, that's... not what Steve was expecting to hear.
"That's business to you? You came here to set me up on a blind date with your famous kid? I think he's gonna be a tad underwhelmed by a bookstore employee, Wayne." Steve's not gonna lie, he's a little intrigued by the prospect of dating a musician. He read a romance novel about one, not that long ago. Concerts, greenroom intimacy, targeted lyrics: Steve could be into it, in theory.
And ultimately, Steve did see photos of Eddie on Google and he's attractive. He looks good holding a guitar.
"He's gonna be home for a while so I figured now's a good time. Just go on one date. He's a big softie, you'll like him." Wayne pulls a book off the shelf and squints to try and read the title. He holds it further from his eyes before giving up and pushing it back into its slot.
"What happens if he doesn't like me? Will you still come around?" Steve runs a nervous hand through his hair. It wouldn't be the end of the world if Wayne stopped showing up, but it would probably hurt a little. It might fan the flame of his fear of abandonment.
"Of course, unless you break his heart. I know where you work, young man." Wayne pats his shoulder good-naturedly.
"Okay old man, you need my number to hand off?"
***
A day later, when Steve feels his phone buzz against his thigh, his instincts already know who it is. His heart gives that anticipatory squeeze he often gets before a first date with someone he finds attractive.
The text reads:
Hi Steve, this is eddie. Wayne swears we're soulmates. Wanna get dinner on friday?
It's a funny text to receive out of nowhere. Steve doubts Wayne actually used that word, but he imagines that Eddie is probably getting more of an earful than Steve got about this whole blind date. He also wonders what kind of person calls their dad by their first name.
Hi Eddie. I'd love to get dinner on Fri and discuss our soulmate status. I'm pretty sure he expects us to be married by the end of the night. Should I bring my tux? Also do you have a time and place in mind?
The master of puppets (Wayne) suggested we go to Maggiano's, are you okay with Italian? 8 maybe??? Tux optional but I think I will not be wearing one.
Haha. That sounds good Eddie, it's nice to hear from you. I'll see you soon.
***
Steve has to ask Amber to change his shift for Friday to work in the morning instead of the evening.
"Steve has somewhere other than work to be on a Friday night? Unheard of!" She slaps her palms down on the book display she was laying out.
"I know. I'm surprised too." Steve fiddles with his lanyard and gives her a 'please say yes' smile. She sighs.
"Yeah, I'll cover you. You can take my morning slot."
"Thank you! I owe you, boss."
***
When Friday arrives, Steve has the nervous jitters. It's been about a year since his last date, it didn't go very well. He's flattered that Wayne thinks highly enough of him to set him up with his kid.
Steve picks up a few small gifts for Eddie on his way home from work. He always brings his first dates a little something. He likes to see the way their faces light up. He thinks maybe he should get Eddie something music-related. So he walks into a little music store he's never been in and asks for small gift ideas for guitarists. He walks out wearing a smile, and hoping Eddie digs what he bought him.
And he's all smiles and confidence until he pulls up to the restaurant at eight and realizes he didn't send a confirmation text this morning. That's like, a rule, right? What if Eddie doesn't show up?
Steve steps out of the car and is equally anxious and relieved to find him leaning artfully against the restaurant near the front door with his hands in his pockets.
His curls are haloed by the warm light spilling out of the restaurant window. He's wearing a dark button-down with the sleeves rolled up to reveal tattoos on his forearms. And yeah, okay, he's hot.
The fact that Steve's going on a date with someone sort of famous hasn't fully sunk in. He's not sure he needs the added nerves though. He approaches as casually as possible and smiles when Eddie looks over.
The man does a double-take when he sees Steve. His eyebrows shoot up and he pushes off against the wall to stand straighter.
"Hi, Eddie?" Steve steps up onto the curb with a little wave. Eddie gives him a thorough once over.
"Oh, damn. Hi." He pulls a hand out of his pocket to shake Steve's.
Eddie is pretty up close. He's got long eyelashes and a bridge of little freckles across his nose. Steve notices all the little details that the on-stage photos didn't capture. He wonders if Wayne described what he looked like to Eddie who was at an informational disadvantage.
"I don't know what I was expecting you to look like, but my uncle didn't mention you were model pretty." Eddie tucks one of his big curls behind his ear and then steps forward to open the door. Steve's face gets warm at being called "model pretty", but he's terrible at taking compliments. He tries to redirect the conversation.
"Your uncle?" Steve asks.
"Wayne? My uncle?" Eddie motions towards the open door and follows after Steve once he's inside.
"Oh. You know he tells people that you're his son?"
Eddie's face softens and he scratches at his cheek. "Oh. Yeah well, I basically am. Maybe I should start calling him dad, I don't know."
"We don't take walk-ins." The hostess of the restaurant announces, breaking up their small talk. Steve looks over to see a tall woman with a slicked-back ponytail mad-dogging them. She has a cold demeanor, she kills the mood with one look between them. Steve knows the look, he's sure Eddie does too.
"Good to know! I have a reservation, though." Eddie responds.
"What's the name?" The woman pulls her iPad closer to herself like a shield.
"Munson." Eddie glances at Steve nervously.
"Hm. I don't see it." She pretends, tapping around meaninglessly. Eddie is getting agitated and maybe embarrassed too. He's scratching at his arm, unsure of how to proceed. First dates are already so awkward, especially blind ones. And if there's one thing about Steve, it's that he's gonna try to lighten the mood.
"Don't you know who he is?" Steve asks offendedly. Eddie whips around to look at Steve with wide, panic-filled eyes. The hostess raises an eyebrow and looks more closely at Eddie. It makes Steve chuckle. "I'm just kidding, let's go get burgers or something." He grabs Eddie's hand and pulls him back out the door.
"Holy shit, you scared me. I didn't know you knew who I was." Eddie has a hand on his chest and a wild grin. "She definitely didn't."
"I was just messing around. She did not want to seat our gay date." Steve sticks his hands in his pockets and then remembers Eddie's gift. "Oh but hey! I got you something."
Steve pulls out a nice bar of chocolate and a little tin of black pearly guitar picks. He offers them to Eddie with an open palm.
"Oh, what? You didn't have to do that." Eddie grabs them eagerly and slides open the tin. "This is so nice! How'd you know I've been needing picks? Now I feel doubly bad about dinner falling through."
"Hey, if I'm honest, sit-down dinner dates kind of give me anxiety. Too much pressure to keep the conversation going." Steve pulls out his keys, "You like burgers?"
Eddie huffs dramatically. "My palette is far too sophisticated for greasy burgers, Steve. I'm a chicken nugget man, obviously."
"That makes sense. You look like one." Steve teases. Eddie pouts.
"I'm taking that as a compliment."
"If you want nuggets we can just walk down the street. Unless you want me to drive?" Steve points in the direction of the row of fast-food restaurants.
"Yeah, let's walk."
Steve slowly turns and starts walking, glancing invitingly over his shoulder.
"So you know me." Eddie rattles the tin of guitar picks and looks a little worried by the prospect that Steve is some sort of fan.
"Only through your uncle, really. And maybe a short Google search. Sue me." Steve holds up his hands guiltily.
"Oh yeah, Wayne's my marketing manager. I send him out to spread the good word."
"Well I don't know who you've been instructing him to market to, but he's spending all his time in my store making me read book summaries to him because he conveniently forgets his glasses every time he comes in." Steve deadpans. Eddie chuckles and shakes his head knowingly.
"Yeah, It's this new long-con form of marketing. We decided to go all in for just one new fan." Eddie's got these sweet little dimples on either cheek when he smiles.
"Kinda worked, I dunno. I'm charmed by the Munsons." Steve and Eddie are veering towards each other as they walk. They're set to collide like two little asteroids. When they do end up bumping shoulders, it's soft. They stay close after that.
Steve hears a truly horrible sound coming from a bar a few meters ahead of them.
"Oh shit! Karaoke bar!" Eddie exclaims and speeds over. Eddie stands in front of the fenced-off patio and looks in while someone butchers Guns N' Roses. He looks absolutely delighted.
"What, you want to go show off in front of these poor, tone-deaf drunkards?" Steve rests his arms on the little fence and leans forward. Eddie vehemently disagrees.
"God no, I just like hearing all the very talented Midwestern voices." Eddie wiggles his eyebrows to express his sarcasm. "In other words, I enjoy making fun of bad music. I'm only human."
They sit there and give each other pained looks at the bad voices for a few minutes until someone starts trying to drunkenly stumble over the verse to a Nicki Minaj song and then Eddie drags Steve away in anguish.
"Can't take it anymore, Steve. Spare me."
***
The two of them have a good rapport, Steve thinks as they sit on a curb and share a big box of chicken nuggets. Maybe Wayne was right. It's playful. He can see how Eddie and Wayne share a handful of mannerisms and a sense of humor.
"Let's intertwine our arms like newlyweds do when they drink champagne," Steve says with a ketchup-covered chicken nugget in his hand. He wraps an arm around Eddie's and then takes a bite. Eddie follows his lead and giggles.
"I didn't know they did that. I've never been to a wedding." Eddie swallows and reaches for his soda.
"What? Never?"
Eddie shakes his head and looks up at the night sky. It's too cloudy to see any stars, unfortunately.
"My tux is in the car, by the way, should things pan out tonight." Steve jokes.
"I think they're panning." Eddie winks and leans in slightly.
"Oh yeah? Have I lived up to Wayne's description of me?" Steve bats his eyelashes and gives Eddie a sweet little smile.
"You've exceeded it, sweetheart." Eddie picks up Steve's hand and presses a chaste kiss to the inside of his wrist. Steve's heart jumps. When Eddie pulls back, he doesn't pull back far.
"Do you ever kiss on a first date?" Eddie whispers and squeezes Steve's hand. He glances at Steve's lips.
"Mmm, I could be persuaded." Steve feels a heady rush at the fact that he has somehow won the interest of a successful musician who probably meets loads of people every day. Steve reaches forward and tugs at one of Eddie's loose curls. He twists it around his finger and looks up with big doe eyes.
The tension is cut from Eddie's body when Steve looks at him like that. The move has a pretty good success rate at this point. And it doesn't fail him tonight. Eddie rests a hand on the base of Steve's neck. He strokes his thumb back and forth against the hollow of Steve's collarbone and leans in slowly.
Eddie's warm lips press against his own gently, experimentally. Their lips make a sweet sound when the suction is broken and Eddie's immediately reseal against Steve like he's irresistible. It's been forever since Steve kissed anyone, especially anyone worth kissing. He forgot how sweet and floaty it feels.
The hand on Steve's collar slides up so it's lightly holding his neck, it feels quietly possessive. It makes Steve's face heat up. Eddie's free arm wraps around Steve's waist pulling him closer. He lets himself be pulled.
Eddie starts getting more confident and hums softly when Steve weaves a hand into his long hair.
Steve could keep this up for hours, he wants to. But as dark as it is, he doesn't love the idea of continuing this so out in the open. He pulls back with regret.
"Damn, how are you not already taken?" Eddie wipes at Steve's shiny lips with his thumb.
"How are you not already taken? You're the accomplished one." Steve counters, squeezing one of Eddie's knees.
Eddie gathers their trash around them and stuffs it into the paper bag. "Well, I'll be home for a while if you'd want to do this again sometime. I can take you to a nice restaurant next time, I promise." He stands to throw away the trash. "Damn, I don't want the night to be over..."
"It doesn't have to be, you're welcome at mine." Steve leans back on one of his hands and bats his eyelashes up at Eddie.
"My New Year's resolution was to not do first date hookups, though."
"We don't have to, just come hang out." Steve holds an arm out to be pulled up to his feet from where he’s still sitting on the curb.
"Oh, yeah okay. You want me to?" Eddie pulls him to his feet with more force than necessary. It sends them both stumbling and giggling.
"Obviously I want you to."
***
The walk back to the restaurant is much faster than it was at the start of the night. They regretfully have to split at the parking lot, each having their own ride.
"Wait, call me so we can still talk on the way there." Eddie requests before jogging off to Wayne's truck. There really isn't much need to talk on the phone since Steve lives so close, but it's kind of cute that he wants to. Steve hits the call button on Eddie's contact.
"Hello, to whom am I speaking?" Eddie asks in a formal, over-the-top voice.
"This is Steve Harrington. I'm contacting you regarding your car's extended warranty." Steve backs out of his spot and waits for Eddie to do the same before driving out of the parking lot.
"Oh wow, what a coincidence. I was just wondering if my car had an extended warranty." Eddie always plays along, he digs into all of Steve's jokes and finds his own spot to grow there.
Steve drives slower than he normally would so that he doesn't get separated from his date. Eddie doesn't appreciate the sentiment.
"You drive like a grandpa. Has anyone ever told you that?" Eddie laughs and honks his horn. Steve hears it both over the phone and from his window.
"I'm only driving slow so we don't get separated, asshole."
"There's barely anyone on the road tonight to separate us, but it's fine, Steve. I value your safety. Drive at your comfortable geriatric pace."
When they pull up to a red light, Eddie instructs Steve to roll down his window so they can stick their hands out and play Rock Paper Scissors. Steve is so distracted watching Eddie's hand through his side mirror that he misses when the light turns.
"It's green, honey," Eddie alerts him softly through the phone, and Steve apologizes.
He's smiling real big the whole way there and when Steve eventually gets out of the car, Eddie comes up and grabs him from behind.
Eddie plants a few eager kisses on the side of Steve's neck. "You're fun, Steve."
"I'll show you real fun some other time." He jokes and pulls Eddie towards his place.
As soon as Steve opens the door to his apartment, he feels self-conscious about how dull it looks inside. Eddie looks around quietly. His eye catches on a picture of Steve and Robin.
"That's my best friend, Robin." Steve clarifies, just in case Eddie reads it wrong like dates have in the past.
Eddie smiles and pulls Steve back against his chest. "She looks nice."
"Looks can be deceiving." Steve laments which has Eddie chuckling into his shoulder. Eddie rubs at Steve's tummy.
What Steve really wants, what he's been desperate for, for months and months is human touch. He just wants to cuddle so badly. And Eddie doesn't seem the type to cuddle, but looks can be deceiving, so Steve's gonna ask anyway.
"Wanna cuddle and watch trash reality TV?" Steve's shoulders rise to his ears, it's a defensive gesture and he's expecting to be rejected. Eddie looks slightly amused by his offer, but he nods.
***
"So you liked him alright?" Wayne asks smugly patting the counter. Steve nervously watches the back of the store where Amber is reorganizing. Steve shouldn't be having a conversation like this at work while she's around.
"Yes, Wayne." Steve rolls his eyes. "Your nephew is lovely."
"I told him he should come here with me next time. Maybe we'll both visit ya." Wayne looks happy. The corners of his default frown have been pulled upwards by the return of his nephew. He's a good man. Steve thinks if his kid was only home a few weeks he'd want to hoard all of his attention, surely not set him up on dates.
And that's the thing about Wayne, it seems like he puts the people he cares about first. Steve wonders if Wayne is all that lonely when Eddie's gone, or if he just comes into the store so often because he knows Steve is.
"I'd love that." Steve hopes things work out with the Munsons.
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fingertipsmp3 · 9 months
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Does anyone else just like… not give a fuck if they’re chopping vegetables evenly
#not gonna lie this onion was a bad one. my eyes were hurting so bad i actually felt lightheaded; and that was BEHIND my sunglasses#i could barely see. i was just putting the knife down like ‘is this right?’#i couldn’t remember if the recipe called for a diced or sliced onion so i was sort of doing both and it was an actual shitshow#settled on dicing then realised the recipe called for a ‘thinly sliced’ onion. pain#y’know what. fuck it. i’m cooking for myself; not gordon ramsay#but seriously i have knife skills so bad they can’t even be comprehended by the common man#i hear so many people say ‘oh i’m a bad cook’ but have you ever had someone watch you cook; say ‘no no no’ and physically take a knife#out of your hand? while you were chopping CARROTS no less#i do have the bluntest knife in christendom so that can’t possibly help#i’ve also just discovered that i was supposed to sprinkle paprika over my potato wedges AND i’m supposed to grate some cheese#but the wedges are already in the oven and grating cheese sounds exhausting to me#i’ve got a cheese grater with two different surfaces but one of them is so thin you can’t get cheese through it#and the other is so thick that it lets giant crumbs of cheese fall through#so i might just fully eat a block of cheese later this evening. i can have it on oat cakes and pretend it’s healthy. it’s fine#the thing about it all is. i have class in an hour and a half and this recipe is honestly way too intensive for me to handle in my current#state of mind; but if i don’t cook the pork today it is GOING to go off and then i’ll just be annoyed#so i have to eat this. i fucking hope it’s good#the other loaded wedges recipe i tried was honestly not all that. but i realised i made the sauce wrong so that was probably why#this one doesn’t really have an intensive process… i just kind of throw everything in the pan and then toss in garlic and wet components#and when i eat the leftovers tomorrow i can obviously add mayo or sour cream or sriracha or whatever seems to be the vibe#it’s FINE. i’ll be fine. just wish i’d made this yesterday so i could have the leftovers today lol#but if it had reheated badly i’d be sooo annoyed. so there is that#personal
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thecherrygod · 1 year
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if i had polls id be making a "guess who fell on the stairs today" and the answers would be "me" "both of us (sorry)" one to announce that i did in fact slip on the stairs and managed to catch myself before going more steps down but still fell in there
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