#and everything’s ugly and itchy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hheaven-sentt · 1 year ago

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devotion

summary: because love doesn't quite capture it | leon kennedy x partner!reader

word count: 2.4k

warnings: depictions of injuries, angst if you squint, mentions of alcohol consumption, yearning, mutual pining, partners to friends to lovers

notes: BACK FROM THE DEAD W A VENGEANCE. my semester has finished and my second one doesn't start until january so i will be posting for once. college is kicking my ass like all the time so it puts everything else on pause for me anyway ily all | ao3

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The dress feels itchy against your skin. You don’t want to go to this event, so you can’t imagine how Leon feels. He doesn’t even like when you thank him for doing the dishes, so you wonder how he might behave up on a stage to receive a medal. You stretch behind you, reaching for the zipper. Wordlessly, Leon turns to you and zips it up himself. Of course he does; that’s just Leon.

“This is weird,” he says. It’s barely a whisper, breath dusting over your shoulder as he says it. You nod with a sigh.

“I wouldn’t say weird,” you return. You watch his eyes in the mirror. They hover somewhere on your forehead. “Not normal, but not weird,” “I think it’s weird,” he says, and steps away. You nod again, because what else can you say?

Working with Leon has its ups and downs. He’s too quiet some days, and you have to fill in the gaps yourself. Or he’s too loud–sometimes without even saying anything–and you have to figure out how to deal with it. Or he’s just Leon; he laughs and jokes, he helps cook dinner, he doesn’t talk about work. You like those days the best. Had you seen these versions of Leon when you were assigned to him almost ten years ago, you would’ve laughed. Ten years ago, you couldn’t imagine being this close to someone, to care as much as you do about someone you’re paid to be around.

You suppose there’s layers to it, layers you haven’t fully unraveled yet. You know only a few things for certain: Leon is your partner, he is also your unofficial roommate, and you care about him more than you care about others.

“Are you ready?” he asks. He’s standing in the doorway of the bedroom, the light from the hallway making him look like an angel descending to relay a message from God. You swallow and nod.

“Just need my shoes,” you say, moving to the bed and sliding your shoes across the floor to be in front of you. Leon bends down without a word to help you fasten them.

When he looks up at you, he looks less like your partner and more like someone you’re meant to love. An ache resonates within you, a need to reach out a brush your fingers through his darkened hair. He shifts his gaze to your upper arm. Gingerly, he runs the tips of his fingers over a scar that spans from your elbow to your clavicle. It’s ugly and red, courtesy of the nasty burn you’d sustained there a few years ago. The ridged skin is unfeeling as Leon skirts his hand across it, tracing it from your elbow to your shoulder.

“I remember when you got this,” he says absently. His fingers dance across your skin, and you wish the scar didn’t run so deep so you could feel his ministrations. “Thought I’d lost you,”

He says nothing more, just stands up and offers his hand to you to help you off the bed. You take it, and he hauls you up with ease. He twists out of the room like a ghost. You follow him, like you always do.

The scar is one of a few you’ve come to own. You remember the day you got it, too. For whatever reason, you replay the moment in your head over and over in the taxi on the way to the gala. It makes your skin burn.

It was supposed to be a normal day, a normal mission. Go in, extract, get out. Three simple steps that you had done a hundred thousand times before. Leon stood beside you, always offering to enter a room first. You’ll admit, years removed from the situation, you should’ve been more careful, should’ve listened to what he was saying. But you were so angry at him. You felt weak, unnecessary. You remember shoving past him and through a door you hadn’t known was connected to a trigger. Almost as soon as your boot touched the concrete on the other side of the threshold, your hearing went out. It felt like you were standing miles away from a nuclear blast, and you had felt the effects of the delayed shockwave. You were knocked to the ground in an instant, but you didn’t feel pain–not yet at least. When you woke up in the hospital a day later, Leon was asleep in the chair beside you.

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” he’d said. You vowed not to.

“Do you think they’ll at least have an open bar?” he says now, drawing you back into the world. You turn away from the window of the cab to look at him. He’s staring at his hands, forcing a small smile.

“They better,” you say, reaching over and settling a hand on his shoulder. He looks at you. “It’s the only reason I’m going,”

This turns his smile genuine, and he even offers an eyeroll. You squeeze his shoulder, bracelets jingling with the motion. His eyes are on you, and you feel as hot as fresh sin. You hate this; hate that he makes you feel this way, hate that he is so beautiful, hate that you can’t seem to shake this deep seated love you harbor for him. You miss him when he looks away and you remove your hand.

The gala is overwhelming. Leon stays near you, hand hovering near your own. You wish he would reach out and take it. You debate the consequences of doing it yourself.

Breath hot on the shell of your ear, Leon whispers, “You think our taxes went into this?”

You suppress a laugh, tightening your lips into a thin line to fight a smile. “I wouldn’t be surprised, but I’ll pretend like this was all donated,”

“You can consider taxes a donation if you really think about it,” he says, gliding across the floor with you toward an empty table. You snort.

“I think that depends on what your definition of donation is,” you say. He pulls out your chair for you before pushing it in, then takes his own seat beside you. His legs are angled toward you like he only plans on talking to you.

“I think you underestimate my ability to bend definitions to suit my needs,” he says. You laugh again.

You like this version of Leon, and you know that it won’t last very long so you should hold onto it while it’s here. An old jazz song rings out from the speakers across the hall, and the lights catch his eyes just right. They’re really blue, as true blue as blue gets. They’re your favorite shade of blue. If you could paint your living room that color, you would. It’s a soft blue, like the crest of a wave blue, like the sky just after dawn blue, like two perfect oceans set into his skull. There’s a hairline scar that runs between the crows feet of his left eye, one you ache to reach out and trace.

That’s the best way to describe how you feel when you look at Leon: aching. It’s desperation, an aching need to touch and hold. It’s not exactly love, but you don’t have another word for it. Maybe devotion? Looking at him feels like the first time a child sees a kitten. You’re like me, soft and lovable, and we should stay together.

“Have you listened to anything I’ve said in the last few minutes?” Leon asks, putting a hand on your knee that brings you back to the gala. You suck in a breath and shake your head. He smiles wide. “Quit staring at me, makes me feel like I’ve got something on my face,”

“You’re pretty,” you say before you can stop yourself. Maybe pretty is the wrong word, but you don’t know what the right one would be. He’s handsome, sure, but handsome doesn’t encapsulate the way his lashes flutter against his cheekbones or the way he blushes when you smile at him. “Sorry,”

He’s grinning now, giving your knee a squeeze. “You flatter me,”

An hour later, and he’s being called up on stage by your director, who intends to decorate him. You’re beaming with pride, even though you know Leon is dreading this moment. He stumbles across the stage. Cameras are flashing, and you can almost see Leon cringe between photos. He’s off the stage a few minutes later, heading straight for you. You grin more, knowing that he’s choosing to seek solace in you, in your company. He wraps you in a stiff hug that loosens as it endures. You laugh into his shoulder.

“Don’t let me do anything heroic ever again,” he mumbles, burying his face into your neck. You bark a laugh.

“Yeah, okay,” you agree. “I’ll make sure to step in next time,”

In an act that surprises you, Leon tugs you toward the dance floor. You must look wildly confused because he explains, “Just this once. Just one dance,”

You agree, not that you could deny even if you wanted to. He’s looking at you like you’re someone he’s meant to love, like you’re more than just his partner. His hand slots against the curve of your waist like it was made specifically to be there. He’s warm and smiling, and you think maybe he’s had a bit too much champagne. But you like him like this. Who knows when you’ll see him like this again? You stare at him, intent to memorize his features and the way the light catches on the bridge of his nose.

“You’re staring again,” he whispers. You smile sheepishly.

“Never seen you like this,” you reply. He bows his head to chuckle. “Not sure I’ll ever get the chance to again,”

“I’m sure you will,” he says. “You’re the one who brings it out of me,”

You roll your eyes. “I’m more convinced it’s all the free champagne we’ve been drinking,”

“You can believe whatever you want, sweetness,” he says, spinning you. “I’m telling you the truth,”

You’re both giggly and joking the whole way home. Leon has you wheezing about something you can’t remember as you step into the apartment. Tears rest at the corners of your eyes. You shove him playfully. He follows you from room to room like a puppy, making you giggle and flash a smile as you clean up for the night.

You crash onto the bed, warm and light from the night, and reach to take off your shoes. Leon stands in the doorway, watching you. The light from the hallway gives him a halo. Your feet ache as you release them from their prisons, and you glance up to see Leon smiling at you. You return it with the cock of one of your brows.

“You’re pretty,” he says by way of explanation. You feel heat snake up your body. His hands are stuffed into his pockets, hair slightly messy from where he’s run his hands through it, and the first few buttons of his shirt are undone. If you weren’t as shy as you are, you’d probably move to touch him.

Instead, you huff a laugh and toss your shoes to the floor. “You flatter me,”

When you stand and begin to move around him, he grabs your elbow. “I mean it,”

Perhaps, in another life, you would see this as a win. The man you’ve spent most of your life following around and yearning for seemingly returns your affections, and you are about to deny him. Admitting it out loud makes it real, makes it mean something. What happens the next time something goes wrong out there? The next time he does something heroic? Everything will be much too real, and much harder to bury. You blink at him, looking at him for what feels like the very first and last time. He’s still Leon; scruffy stubble, blue eyes, and warmth. He’s still Leon, teetering on being your Leon, and you’re not going to let that happen. You, again, are going to deny yourself from what you want.

“What are you thinking?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper. You take in a shaky breath. He’s still holding you, but his touch is a ghost on your flesh.

“Leon, I don’t know-”

“You know that one Frank Sinatra song?” he interrupts. You gape at him.

“Why did you ask if you won’t let me answer?” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. He returns his hands to his pockets.

“Predicted where it was going, figured I’d circumvent it,” he admits, the corner of his lips turning upward slightly. “The song he sings with his wife?”

You shrug. “Maybe? What’s your point?”

“I love you,” he says. Your body goes cold. “That could be the stupidest thing I’ve ever said, but I feel like you should know that before you make whatever decision you’re about to make,”

Your face breaks out into a grin, and you laugh in spite of yourself. “I’m sure you’ve said stupider,”

Whatever worry was on Leon’s face dissolves, and a real, full smile splits across his lips. He takes your face in his hands. He holds you delicately, like you’d break under the slightest pressure. To be fair, you feel like glass at the moment–if glass could have legs made of rubber.

“This makes it real,” you say. He swallows. “No going back, no forgetting, no pretending. When something happens, it will be real,”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he whispers. “It’s worked out for us so far,”

You’re not sure who closes the space first, but it matters little after it’s happened. His lips are gentle and giving against your own. Your hands splay against his sides, using his suit jacket to pull him closer. His hands wind into your hair. There’s a desperation behind his movements, one you’re all too familiar with. After what feels like hours, he breaks from you, leaning his forehead against yours. His breathing is labored, you can feel it in his strong chest beneath your hands.

“This is real,” he says.

“We take risks for a living,” you say. He opens his eyes to peek at you through his lashes. “What’s one more right?”

He grins and kisses you again.

#leon kennedy x reader #my fics #m writes #resident evil #x reader #partner!reader #resident evil fanfic #leon kennedy #id leon kennedy

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fairyysoup · 6 months ago

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insatiable

matters of taste part two (repost)

pairing(s): steve harrington x fem!reader x eddie munson

summary: Stuck between Steve and Eddie, you start to learn the things they have in common, and a few of the things they don't.

content warnings: explicit (18+ MINORS DNI) smut, polyamorous relationship, semi-public sex, car sex, cunnilingus, nipple play, spit kink, forced orgasms, workplace sex, unprotected sex, creampie, exhibitionism, daddy kink, size kink, praise, smoking, marijuana, discussions and appreciation of scars, canon-typical violence toward the end, like one verbatim line from the show as a wink wink nudge nudge, not edited (we die like the demobat)

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

“I feel kinda bad,” you admit glumly, blinking at Eddie through the fog in the back of his van. “Steve’s not here.”

Eddie shrugs a shoulder, his eyes sparkling at you even though they’ve gone just a little bit watery and bloodshot. You both stink like weed, the cramped quarters filling up with the smoke from the joint you pass between you. The speakers from the radio in the dash are playing the local rock station, maybe a bit too loud, but Eddie’s slightly gravelly voice still goes into your ears and plants itself right between your legs. “Yeah. Why d’you feel bad about it?”

“Well… aren’t we sort of going behind his back?”

Eddie snorts, shaking his head slowly. “Only if we don’t tell him. And trust me, I plan on telling him. Harrington and I are a lot closer than you might think, sugarplum.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” Your head fills with the image of him biting Steve’s ear, tugging his hair- Steve’s hand fisted in Eddie’s shirt while you go down on him. “Are you guys together?”

“Ah… sort of. We haven’t exactly had the ‘what are we’ talk, but we fool around.” Eddie offers you the burning joint in his hand, and winks as you take it. “Doesn’t mean we don’t want to include you, though. Treat you nice, take you out on dates. The both of us.”

“Is that what this is?” You splutter a kind of half-cough, half giggle, the smoke starting to make your reflexes a little fuzzy. “R’we on a date right now?”

“If you wanna be.”

You should have known that his oddly sweet offer to pick you up and drive you to work today wasn’t exactly coming from a place of wholesome intentions. For starters, he did pose the offer while letting you recover from the first time he fucked you, while Steve was busy with a customer out on the bakery floor. His hand had been stroking a little too close to your aching cunt and your head was a little too full of endorphins for you to think it through before you said okay.

So, when he picked you up about two hours early, you were a little shocked, to say the least. You were still wearing your pajamas- an ugly pair of sweats, and a cami that absolutely did not cover everything it needed to for you to be technically decent. Your hair a complete mess, a half eaten sandwich in hand as you answered the door.

Eddie’s eyes did a complete once-over of your body, and then laser-focused in on your pebbled nipples raised through the fabric of your cami, before he cracked a smug smile. “Get all dressed up just for me?”

You’d asked Eddie to wait for you to put on that itchy fucking uniform dress and apron, at least, but he just waved his hand like it was beyond pointless. “Just grab it and get dressed in the car. I won’t peek at you. Scouts honor.”

Well, now the uniform dress is wadded up in a plastic shopping bag beside you, and you’re parked outside of the Radio Shack across the street and down a ways from Mimi’s Bakery. And he’s not looking at you like any fucking boy scout.

“Okay,” you say quietly, feeling really hot and sort of uncomfortably confined in your tight cami. He’s been staring at your tits. Not trying to hide that he is in the slightest, either. And your eyes have been lingering on his tattoos. “This can be a date.”

“Good to know,” he hums, checking his watch. “But don’t you need to be getting into that little dress pretty soon?”

“You just want to look at my tits,” you grumble as you shove the joint back into his hand.

“I do. But I won’t, if you don’t want me to.”

You gnaw on your lip. Your eyes fall to his forearm again, the cluster of bats so dark on his skin. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Eddie laughs, genuinely, his chest heaving. “Tit for tat, huh? All right, sweetheart. You asked for it.”

His hands move to the hem of his shirt. He’s not wearing his uniform either, actually- instead he’s in a weather beaten metallica shirt and dark jeans. You don’t know if he just generally waits until the last second to change into his uniform, or if he was planning on not having any clothes on by the end of this anyways. Maybe a bit of both, but you’re hesitant to ask.

He rips his shirt over his head, wads it into a ball and throws it somewhere in the vicinity of the front seat. You’re not looking at where it lands, though. You’re looking at his scars.

Eddie’s covered in them. Large red patches on his skin that look… sort of like they could be burn scars, but more like he got dragged under an eighteen wheeler on a paved highway and lived to tell the tale. You stare, because you have genuinely no idea what to do or say.

“Has anyone told you, you have a really good poker face?”

You huff a laugh and rip your eyes away, although you don’t really want to. The scars don’t take away from the look of him, or from the tattoos- of which there are a lot. They even help to increase the air of danger and mystery about him that you find so alluring, and you’re more entranced by the combination of the two than anything. Your face burns furiously. “Am I that obvious?”

He grunts, but it doesn’t come off as dismissive as he usually makes it. It sounds almost shy. “You’re no actress, sweetheart. But it’s okay. I know it’s bad.”

“It’s… I mean, maybe it’s alarming. Didn’t expect it,” you tell him honestly, and you sort of reach forward to touch his chest, only stopping your hand at the last second. “But it’s not bad, babe.”

Eddie makes a soft noise in the back of his throat, like he doesn’t entirely believe you, but he reaches up and grabs your hand to pull it against his chest. His skin is hot under your touch. “Don’t bullshit me- I don’t think I could handle it if you were.”

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, Eddie,” you whisper to him, moving to straddle his lap while your hand presses into his skin. “Why would I lie about that?”

“Well,” he starts, his eyes turning up toward the roof of the van, “you did say you thought my tattoos were ‘fucking dumb.’”

“That’s… okay, yeah. Fair enough.” Your fingers dig into his chest, dragging along the outline of a spider. He’s riddled with them- zombie heads and spiders and a puppet on a string. You’re absorbed in a fantasy of tracing every one of them with your tongue instead of your fingers. Sucking in a sharp breath through your nose, you take them in slowly and try to content yourself with just touching them instead of tasting them. “I didn’t really think they were dumb, though. They’re not. They’re really, really hot. I think about them all the time, I was just too chicken shit to admit it.”

Eddie’s wide eyes bore into yours. “Hm. So I fuck you once and you change your tune?”

“Yeah. That’s usually the best way to get me to fess up, anyways. I mean, I also didn’t want to admit that I have a big ol’ crush on you, but… here we are.” Your face heats up, and your eyes fall to his hand on yours so that you can avoid his stare. “And these are really fucking hot. Believe me.” You drag your hand down his chest, and his follows. Your touch lingers over a bit of scar tissue on his lower ribs. His breath hitches when you ghost your fingers across it.

“Between you and me,” he murmurs quietly, his voice just a little bit shaky as you lace your fingers between his, “you’re the only one besides Harrington who’s seen them.”

Your eyes snap up to his. You open your mouth to say something heartfelt, to thank him or tell him how much it means that he would trust you with something he’s obviously a bit shy about- as shy as Eddie Munson can be. But all that comes out is, “Do they hurt?”

“Not anymore.”

“How did… how…” You struggle to ask him what happened to scar him this much. Somehow, it seems so invasive. “You don’t have to tell me if it’s not-”

“I was attacked by a swarm of bats,” Eddie says flatly. “Fuckers almost ate me alive.”

You can’t tell if he’s joking or not. His tone is serious, but his nose crinkles just a bit and his lips curl up just at the edges, and his eyes glint in a way that says, ‘I know something you don’t.’ So you bite your lip and scrape your nails lightly along his skin. “Between you and your bats, and Steve and his KGB agents, I’m starting to think you guys are just having fun tripping me up.”

He grins. “Oh, we are. How else are we supposed to keep you coming back for more?”

“Dunno. You have some really good weed.”

“Oof. Ouch. You’re only here for the drugs, babe?” He clicks his tongue and puffs the joint before handing it to you. “Should’a known. Pretty things like you are always so hard to get.”

You smirk, tucking the joint between your lips. One last puff and it’ll be too small to be useful anymore. “Not so hard. I think you got me pretty good last night.”

Eddie hums, and his hand pets up the curve of your arm. “Yeah, I did. I could still feel you squeezing me while I was trying to get to sleep.”

“Christ, Eddie,” you breathe. Your fingers slip down low enough to skim over the trail of hair below his navel that disappears beneath his belt. “I’m still feeling you. You fucked me hard.”

“Mm. I know.”

You feel fucking insatiable. Maybe it’s the weed, or maybe it’s the way you can’t be in the same room with him, let alone in his lap, without wanting him to just… take advantage. Arousal tickles under your skin and between your legs like an ever-present demon.

He plucks the little stub of a joint out of your fingers and tosses it into an ashtray by the console. “I showed you mine.”

You don’t really know what to say. You can’t come up with anything, so you just… lift your arms. Straight up in the air. Staring at him, saying nothing.

Eddie looks up at you with an unreadable expression, and his eyes dip to your lips. Just for a moment, long enough for you to think that he might lean in to finally kiss you, but then as soon as the thought is there, the moment is gone and he tugs the hem of your camisole up over your head.

All that you can think is that Eddie’s really good with his hands. Of course he is- you’d know better than anyone, after what he did last night, but somehow it still gets the better of you when he slides his palms down your vertical arms after pulling your camisole off of them, and letting his thumbs press along the curve of your cleavage to tease over your nipples. His fingertips dig into the sides of your breasts, squeezing them almost reverently.

“Jesus.” Eddie swallows audibly over the sound of the car radio, shaking his head slowly. His eyes droop as he pets your skin and leans forward to kiss just over the sensitive peak of your breast. “You shouldn’t have hid these from me, sweetheart. Pretty baby, with her pretty little nipples teasing me all morning.”

You hum, feeling a little lightheaded at him toying with you like this. His tongue juts out to wet his lips, and you feel so exposed, trembling on top of him. His eyes are just so big and black, shining in the broad afternoon light coming in from the window behind you.

You’re in a fucking car. Where anyone passing by could see you, parked just down the sidewalk from your job, where you have to be in… thirty minutes? Twenty? You don’t even fucking know anymore. You think you can probably deal with Mimi Callaghan’s wrath if Eddie just keeps touching you like this-

Your breath hiccups in your chest when he lets his tongue flick gently over your nipple. You feel a wreck with just the slightest touch of his hot mouth to your skin, and you’re overcome with the need to kiss him again. To just allow yourself to taste him for hours.

He switches over, going for the other one with pursed lips and enough suction to make your toes curl in your shoes. “Question for you,” he says, much too chipper and unaffected when he pulls away almost immediately. He leaves your nipples wet and cold in the atmosphere of the van, achingly hard for him as he drags the rough pads of his thumbs over them.

You whine petulantly at him, your nails ripping at the wall of the car behind his head. You know Eddie hears it with how he mockingly pouts his lower lip at you, tilting his head just slightly as he draws circles around the sensitive buds. “What’s the quickest you’ve ever made yourself come?”

The question takes you aback. “What?”

“On your own. No assistance,” Eddie clarifies, as if that makes the inquiry any less odd. “Start to finish. Approximate time.”

“Um. I…” You suck a breath through your teeth when he pinches one of your nipples gently, and you blurt, “Six minutes and twenty-five seconds.”

Eddie blinks, pausing the movement of his fingers. You squirm, pushing your chest into his touch, and he unconsciously resumes. “That is… so weirdly specific. How do you know that?”

“Uh.” You press your lips together tightly and hear your heartbeat in your ears. Your face feels hot for all the wrong reasons, and he’s just squinting at you like he’s trying to read your mind. “It’s uhhh… because that’s how long it takes to get halfway through the guitar solo in Stairway to Heaven?”

His face remains blank for half a second. Then, slowly, a smile stretches across his face until he’s grinning from ear to ear. “You got off to Stairway?”

You make a weak noise in the back of your throat. “You haven’t?”

“I didn’t say that.” Eddie leans forward and presses a soft kiss between your breasts, just over your heart. His hands keep up their careful flexing, his thumbs rolling gently around your nipples until you lurch your hips forward against his for some kind of relief. He smirks. “I do think it’s cute that you knew the timestamp, though. What did you do? Go through it afterwards while looking at the clock? Count the seconds?”

“It was a stopwatch,” you snarl at him.

Eddie makes a silent ‘O’ with his mouth, winking at you as he does. “Pardon me. A stopwatch.” He sighs dramatically and releases his hold on your breasts. Your skin feels oddly chilly without the soothing warmth of his hands there, but you swallow thickly as you watch him fiddle with the electronic watch on his wrist. Under the din of the car radio, he mutters to you, “Well, I’m no Page, but I like to think I’m a pretty good guitarist. Let’s see if I can’t break his record, hm?”

“What- Eddie!” A gasp leaves your mouth as his hand wiggles under the elastic waistband of your sweats.

“No panties today? Naughty girl,” He tuts, letting his fingers roam through your curls and trace over the wet seam of your pussy, just barely a graze but it’s enough to set you on fire.

“You destroyed one pair already,” you point out, biting your lip as his fingers gently drag through your folds, parting them teasingly. You don’t have the heart to tell him you do have a pair in the bag with your uniform. “Didn’t feel like losing another.”

Eddie hums in acknowledgement, but he doesn’t sound too terribly interested in your reasoning. “Six minutes and twenty-five seconds, sweetheart. Better be quick, or you’re going into work feeling really needy.” The tip of his finger dips just between your folds and finds the bead of your clit, and your heart drops into your stomach. He leans forward to whisper into your ear conspiratorially, “And I’m not working today.”

The sound that leaves you is maybe less than dignified. “You’d really do that to Steve?”

“Oh, you know that I would,” Eddie murmurs darkly. His fingers curl forward, and he buries them to the knuckle in your cunt, his palm rocking against your clit with it. “And I know he’d take really good care of you, too. But I might feel a little jealous if he gets to feel you come and I don’t.”

You feel like you’ve dug your own grave, and now you have to lie in it. Eddie’s fingers are deadly quick and more precise than you could have imagined. Stroking in down to the third knuckle and then hollowing back out to trace small circles around your clit. Teasing his two fingertips just into your entrance before pulling out to tug on your clit again.

“So wet for me already,” Eddie coos sweetly, swirling his fingers and spreading the slick around to coat your puffy outer lips. Like he’s just having fun fucking with you, and you’re eating it up all the same. “Yeah… sweet baby. Must be doing something right if you’re this soaked.”

Your fingers ache with the grip you have on the wall. The van isn’t very decked out- you’d almost chance to say it looks like he was gutting it out for a remodeling and then stopped halfway through at some point. With nowhere to comfortably put your hands, you’re holding onto a metal support beam with one, the nails of your other hand scratching into the ridge of a windowsill just above his head.

“Eddie, please,” you whisper, your voice breathier already than you want it to be. Your hips rock against his hand, whimpering when he pushes his middle and ring into you again. He curls them forward so slowly that you feel pulled closer toward his bare chest. “Please, I’m- shit, I want you to fuck me. Right now.”

But Eddie’s not listening. Or maybe he is, but he doesn’t make it known to you- he’s too busy humming along to the fucking song playing on the radio. An anguished cry leaves you when his fingers flex unexpectedly, and it takes you a moment to recognize that he’s following the guitar riff of the song. Scissoring his fingers inside your cunt to mimic the chords, and brushing up against your g-spot as he does.

You recognize the song. It’s on one of your best friend’s mixtapes- you listened to it some months ago in the car on the way to the drive-in. It’s not a difficult tune to follow, or particularly fast, but it’s incongruous and switches up at the oddest moments. So, just when you think there’s a rhythm to his fingers, they throw you for a loop. Your face screws up, because you can’t fucking remember the name of the song while he’s acting like you’re the neck of his goddamn guitar.

Then Eddie stops humming, and starts singing. And if you weren’t already overwhelmed with everything that’s happening, the sound of his rough voice quietly following the tune would put you on fucking cloud nine. “I’m a wild child, come and love me, I want you…”

You gasp for air, and your hand plants itself on the back of his head, fingers digging into the roots of his fluffy hair and tugging excitedly. Fucking- “W.A.S.P. Wild Child. That’s it.”

Eddie snickers, tilting head as he looks up at you with an endearing smile. His free hand lifts from your hip to grip your chin. “Were you trying to place it?”

You give him a high-pitched whimper in lieu of an answer, nodding your head furiously with your eyes screwed shut. You hear him laugh, and can only imagine the cheeky grin on his face.

“You’re so fuckin’ cute.” Eddie squeezes your cheeks, pulling on your jaw slightly. “Open.”

You let your jaw slacken, mouth wide open for him so that he can spit into it. Moaning loudly into his face, you swallow and you realize that you… really liked that. Enough that it might give you a complex if you think about it for too long.

You can feel how wet his skin is, because of you- because of him. The soft, slick glide of his thumb against your clit, the two deep inside you sliding in and out without resistance. Your hips grind forward onto his thrusting fingers, and you come onto his hand, making that wetness even worse. A string of moans leave your mouth, unrestrained and just barely louder than the music.

Eddie’s nose bumps yours, and then he finally kisses you. For the first time all fucking morning, after two hours of screwing around in the back of his van, he finally kisses you while you’re riding out an orgasm on his fingers. You could smack him. But instead, you just open your mouth and let him take what you’ve wanted to give him since he knocked on your door.

“You sound so fucking sexy when you do that,” he murmurs between kisses, and he sucks on your lower lip as he pulls away. “Like a cute little pornstar.”

You sigh quietly as he shifts, letting his fingers stroke one last time through your folds as he retracts his hand and lifts his fingers to his lips. It doesn’t surprise you when he sucks your cum from them, unabashed in his hedonism. “Is that a good thing?”

“The best.” He grins at you, then lifts his watch and presses a little button on the side. “Five minutes and fifty-two seconds. Beat that, Jimmy Page.”

“Oh, I think you’re much better than Jimmy Page,” you coo at him, tiredly wrapping your arms around his neck. You peck the tip of his nose. “But the next time you get me back here with the sole intention of fucking me, you might try kissing me first?”

Eddie blushes. “I wasn’t… ah… I didn’t know if that was, um. On the table or not.”

You frown at him. “Baby, I let you fuck me in the back room of the bakery. I kissed you last night- Why the hell wouldn’t I let you kiss me now?”

“I dunno, I’ve been with a couple girls who just… didn’t want to kiss me? You didn’t make a move, and I didn’t want to assume-”

You cut him off with a long, wet kiss that makes him grunt in surprise. You don’t know who the hell wouldn’t want to kiss Eddie, but you’ve always been a romantic at heart. You stare into his eyes, holding his face and stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “You kiss me any time, any where you want, Eddie Munson. In front of whoever you want. You have carte blanche.”

“Sounds… sounds good.” Eddie’s round, dark eyes blink up at you, adoration brimming in them. “I’ll kiss you all the time, then. You’ll get sick of me.”

“I’m already sick of you,” you grumble, rubbing his shoulder. “Imagine what would happen if I got really fucking annoyed with you.”

“I can’t wait.” He presses a featherlight kiss to the corner of your mouth, and then smacks your ass so hard it makes you yelp. “C’mon, you gotta get to work.”

“Yeah, about that.” You crawl off of his lap to grab your bag of clothes. “You mean to tell me you went out of your way to drive me to work, pick me up two hours early, and you’re not even scheduled today?”

“What can I say?” Eddie shrugs. “I couldn’t go twenty-four hours without seeing you. You’ve bewitched me- OW!”

You giggle as he rubs the spot on his leg that you kicked as you were tugging your sweats off. “Oops.”

Eddie grabs your ankle and yanks you toward him so that you slip down onto your back, still giggling as he clambers on top of you and starts planting kisses across your bare chest. “Oops.”

Mimi Callaghan is a friendly woman in her mid-sixties, with bright red hair that she likes to pile on top of her head like frosting on a cupcake. It makes extreme sense that she’d surround herself with baked goods as a career move.

She’s also sharp as a tack, which is why you turn on your heels and crush up against Eddie trying to walk back out of the door when you see that she’s in the building.

“We gotta go, Mimi’s here,” you whisper, frantically struggling to push him back. You jam your chest up against his and wiggle your arms, grasping at the cool outside air like you can grab onto the afternoon sunlight and pull yourself out of the bakery lobby.

Eddie’s weight solidly presses you forward. “It’s fine, sweetheart-”

“She’s gonna know we were smoking,” you retort, still pushing yourself weakly against him. You’re making a scene; you can feel your coworkers’ eyes burning into the back of your skull.

“It’s fine, you’re fine. Je-sus, would you stop.” Eddie plants his hands on your sides and physically drags you into the bakery as you hit at his back. “Hi, Mimi!”

“Mister Munson! What are you doing here?” Mimi’s jovial voice can be heard loud and clear all the way from the kitchen. She smacks her hands on her apron, covering the green fabric in powdered sugar. “Not that I don’t like seeing your lovely face.”

Eddie beams at your boss, and it’s like the sunlight from outside begins and ends on his face. “Just dropping this one off.” He turns you around by the shoulders, walking you around the counter and into the kitchen. Eddie kisses the crown of your head and shoves you forward so that you stop across a decorating counter from Steve.

Steve looks up at you from under his long lashes, a knowing smirk on his pink lips. Caramel colored hair falls over his forehead, and the contrast of the bright pink uniform shirt to his tan skin is more than tempting.

You nearly vibrate with nerves as Steve does a slow and deliberate once-over of your entire body. “Have a good morning?”

You clear your throat, but something still grates at your voice when you say, “Something like that.”

Steve simply nods, clearly trying to swallow down his smile, and then holds up a flat disc of bread. “What is this?”

“That’s our spinach and feta focaccia,” you say, watching as he roughly shakes open a bag and drops the bread into it. The bread tears through the bottom of the bag and plops loudly onto the ground. You and Steve both stare at the fallen focaccia in silent grief.

“Wellp. Ashes to ashes,” Eddie quips, brushing a hand through your hair. His mouth touches your ear like he means to kiss you again, but he whispers, “How do you feel?”

“Like I’m gonna kick you again.” Your eyes follow the line of Steve’s body as he bends to pick up the focaccia and toss it into a nearby bin. Saliva pools on your tongue, and you try to swallow the rogue feeling of desire as quickly as it manifests.

Insatiable.

Eddie follows your gaze. “Looking good today, Harrington,” he says suggestively, squeezing the back of your neck as he does. “Got some new chapstick or something?”

Steve scoffs good-naturedly, picking up another focaccia and gingerly tucking it into its bag this time. He shoots Eddie a side eye. “Yeah, actually. Wanna try it?”

“You know what, I sure do-”

Steve’s hand whips into the pocket of his apron, and a tube of cherry flavored chapstick hits Eddie right between the eyes. Eddie fumbles to catch it and glares at Steve. “I was fuckin’ kidding.”

“I wasn’t.” Steve goes back to packaging bread, while Eddie grumbles under his breath and pops open the tube to apply some.

You watch him run the chapstick over his plush lips, and he catches you staring out of the corner of his eye. “Want some?”

“Yeah, sure.” You hold out your hand for him to give you the tube.

Eddie grabs you by the chin and tilts your head up to crash his lips against yours. Saccharine cherry flavored balm bleeds into your mouth, and you falter, your hand coming up to grip the neckline of his Metallica shirt. Your face heats up, both surprised and sort of pleased that he took what you told him in the car to heart. When he pulls back, his mouth is smudged with a translucent pink shine.

“Hm. So you guys had a really good morning,” Steve observes as you reach up to wipe the mess from around Eddie’s mouth with your thumbs.

“Only the best for our girl,” Eddie purrs, winking at Steve once you finally let him go and very pointedly tucking Steve’s chapstick into his back pocket. “Take good care of her today?”

Steve grins, first at Eddie, and then at you. “Oh, I will.”

Eddie pats your back and turns to leave, waving at Mimi as he does. He makes it halfway out of the kitchen before her cheery voice stops him. “Before you go, Eddie, there’s free food in the back room.”

You see the baker, Andy, poke his head out of the back room, his mouth full of food. “We got hot dogs!”

“Really?” Eddie turns on his heels and makes his way toward the back room. You jump to follow closely behind, your stomach feeling suddenly hollow. You hear Steve drop what he’s doing, trailing on your heels.

The setup in the back room isn’t what you thought it would be; some lukewarm franks under a little heat lamp, one bag of buns, miniscule toppings of pickled relish, ketchup, and mustard. Despite the miserable presentation, you’re surprised to find that almost every employee you know at the bakery is crammed in the small back room. Joey and Miranda from the morning team, obviously already clocked out, the cake decorators Clara and Bridgit, and Andy off in the corner. You and Eddie both muscle your way past Joey and go for the food with more fervor than necessary. Steve hangs back, leaning against the towers of backstock icing.

Mimi appears at the doorway with an unsettlingly bright smile on her face. “Good. Now that you’re all here, I want to have a little team meeting-”

Eddie grunts in surprise, his mouth half stuffed with food. His hot dog is already falling apart around his fingers, heaps of relish plopping messily onto a styrofoam plate. He fixes Mimi with a wide-eyed stare, and then looks at Steve with an equally helpless expression. Steve shrugs at him as if to say, ‘What do you want me to do?’

“I thought it would be nice to have a little free lunch for everybody,” Mimi says kindly. “Since we’ve also recently gotten a few new members on the team, I’m sure you’d all like to get to know each other.” She gestures at Steve and Eddie, and then looks pointedly at you beside them. “It’s… lovely to see that our closing team is already getting along so well.”

Eddie coughs, nearly choking on his food and turning away from the room with a bright crimson blush on his cheeks.

“Eddie and I are both really happy to be here. We’re lucky to have such an… understanding trainer. We know we can be a lot to handle,” Steve says with the phoniest smile you’ve ever seen on his face. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eddie sort of side-stepping, cramming himself between Steve and the frosting buckets to get to the door. “Hey Eddie, where ya goin’?”

Eddie freezes. “I have… uh… a thing across town.”

“A thing?” Steve says incredulously.

“Really important thing,” Eddie supplements. “Have to pick up my… cat from the… vet?”

“Stay just a moment, Eddie,” Mimi says, still blocking the door to prevent him from leaving. “It’s important that I touch on a few things before you go.”

Eddie shuffles back over beside you, elbowing Steve in the side on the way. Steve whacks him on the back of the head.

“We have a health inspection coming up, so I want everyone doing their level best to clean as much as possible,” Mimi begins. Still engrossed in your food, you take a look around the group and can tell that everyone is only really half-listening. “If the morning team can focus on cleaning their stations- Andy, the baker’s table needs to be scoured- and the evening team can focus on machinery and displays, that would be ideal. That means you as well, Steve.”

Steve holds up his hands with a confused expression. “I clean!”

“Knocking all the crumbs off of the front counter and onto the floor doesn’t count,” Mimi says flatly. “I want to see your hands looking as chapped as mine by the end of the week.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve nods, dropping his eyes to the floor.

“And if you closers can do something about the pastry display,” Mimi adds, looking out of the door toward the offending display case at the front of the shop. “There’s a sort of… black grease that’s built up on the back of it. Not sure how, but I need one of you to get in there and scrub that down as soon as possible.”

“Of course, Mimi,” you say around a mouthful of hot dog bun. “We’ll get on that tonight.”

“Excellent.” Mimi sighs, “Well, that’s really all. Everyone, enjoy the rest of your days. Eddie, you’re free to… pick up your cat.”

“Thank go- you, Mimi.” Eddie bats his eyelashes as he approaches the door, chucking his styrofoam plate into a bin. “You’re an absolute goddess.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Mimi chides, but steps away from the door to let him pass. As always, sharp as a tack, she adds passively, “You sure you don’t want to kiss your girl again?”

“Hm?” Eddie pauses at the door, turning to glance at you over his shoulder, like he forgot that he planted one on you right where your boss had a front row seat to see it happen. He considers it for a moment, and then cracks a smirk that makes your heart rate kick up a notch, knowing what’s about to come. “Nah. Harrington’s got her. Don’t ya, big boy?”

He’s… listen.

Listen.

Steve is so fucking distracting, okay? It’s not like you’re trying to fuck up all your packaging, or… or put the wrong frosting on the macarons. It’s not your fault that Eddie stole your extra pair of panties before you could put them on this afternoon, so you have to feel how sticky the skin is between your thighs, and it’s fucking obnoxious. It’s not your fault that every time Steve gets close enough, he’s brushing his hand across your arm or grabbing your hips to scoot past you. Getting into your personal space, making it a goddamn nightmare to concentrate on anything.

Crouched down beside you, his shoulder nudges your leg as he digs around for a plastic top for a cake box. You know that it’s in the next cabinet over, but you don’t have the heart to tell him. You press your thighs together, trying hard to still your shaking hands as you carefully ice a macaron with the correct frosting this time.

Steve sighs and pulls back. His hand brushes your knee as he does, and it nearly buckles out from under you. You whimper slightly in the back of your throat, clutching onto the counter for support.

Jesus Christ. Get a fucking grip.

“You okay?” Steve asks lightly, peering up at you from his place by your hips. He’s kind of oblivious, but also kind of not. You don’t think he’s aware of how badly his closeness is affecting you, but he is doing it in the hopes of drawing a response from you. Good plan, poor ability to assess the actual damage.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” It sounds unconvincing, high and tight in your throat, but you pick up the bright pink frosting bag again and get back to work. “The lids are in the other cabinet.”

“Oh.”

He’s such an idiot. You want to jump his bones.

You can’t stop thinking about Steve’s dick in your mouth, and how unfortunate it is that it isn’t there right now. It’s 7:30, getting dark out, and there’s just you, and him, and your fucking monstrous libido alone in the bakery. You should have known it would be like this- it seemed like Eddie was almost certain that it would be, even though he’d given you plenty of attention already.

“So,” Steve starts, his voice lilting as he leans over to grab the lids from the correct cabinet. “You and Eddie?”

He doesn’t have to go into detail for you to know what he’s asking about. The shaking in your hand subsides, for now. “Yeah. You and Eddie?”

“Mhm, yeah, for a while now.” A pause. A breath of air, suspended over a precipice. “You and me?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay.” You look down at him, and he’s smiling to himself. “Okay. Good. So, we’re all on the same page?”

“Eddie laid it out for me pretty well this morning, yeah. You already talked about it?” You grin when he nods, blinking up at you through his lashes. You reach down and stroke his cheek with the knuckle of your finger. “Guess we’re both pretty crazy about you.”

Steve blushes. It’s pretty on him, you think. The pink tinge on his cheeks, his cute little eye roll as he shifts on his heels. “Eddie’s, uh… yeah, when he likes you, he goes all in. He can be pretty handsy, huh?”

“Yeah, it sort of surprised me.” You find yourself smiling too, as you look down at your work. “I like it, though. I like handsy guys.”

Steve is quiet for so long that you wonder if you’ve scared him; but then you feel the warmth of his hand wrap around your ankle. His palm slowly starts to slide up your leg, until his arm nudges your skirt out of the way.

Your hand slips, painting your thumbnail in violent bright magenta frosting. “Steve…”

“Relax,” Steve murmurs, and his voice grounds you in your place so that you don’t have a way to run from it. His hand turns, fingers brushing up the soft skin of your inner thigh, and you fight not to spread your legs automatically. “I just want to check something.”

“Check what?” you ask, as if it isn’t painfully obvious when his hand stops, fingertips finding the sticky, wet mess at the tops of your thighs. Steve’s breath audibly hitches, and you freeze, your eyes snapping forward to the front of the bakery.

You should really lock the door.

Steve presses his hand further upwards, and you don’t think he’s expecting to find you without any underwear- his finger dips quite suddenly between your wet folds and you both startle, you fumbling your frosting bag with a quiet gasp and him dropping his forehead to rest against your hip.

You grind down onto his fingers without thinking, making his fingertip slip just slightly into your hot entrance. Steve groans and digs a white knuckled grip with his free hand into the edge of the counter beside you.

“We’re gonna take a break,” Steve blurts loudly, without warning, his voice sounding hoarse and strained.

“Uh-huh, yeah,” you agree shakily, dropping everything in your hands immediately. “We’re closing early tonight.”

“We are?”

You mean to stroke Steve’s hair when he pulls his hand away from you, but in your rush you sort of just bonk him on the head with the flat of your palm and then fucking bolt. You sprint to the front door, turn the latch on the handle and flip the cardboard sign to ‘closed.’

As you turn to make your way back to the kitchen, you glimpse the pastry case and it’s enough to almost make you pause. That’s… okay, that looks like shit. Black grease shining all over the wall behind the shelves, like someone unloaded the oil cache from the donut fryer down the back of it. Your eyes drift back to the kitchen, and find Steve leisurely untying his apron as he walks toward the back room.

Yeah, no. Dick first. Pastry case later.

Your hands hover over the tie of your apron as you blaze through the kitchen after him. To undress, or not to undress? You’re not totally sure what the vibe is yet, but you can always-

Broad hands grab you as soon as you step through the door into the back room. You yelp as you’re pulled suddenly into a warm embrace, Steve’s arms wrapping around you and his body pressing you up against the book keeper’s desk.

“You’re so fucking sexy, you know that?” Steve whispers, his breath touching your neck before his lips do. He grabs your thighs and hoists you up onto the desk, crowding between your knees before you can think to close them.

His hands are everywhere. Untying your apron, answering your question for you. In your hair, tugging your head back so he can mouth at your neck without obstructions. Undoing the front of your dress so that he can grope at your bare chest.

Handsy guys. You fucking love handsy guys. And now you have two of them.

“Mind if I ask,” Steve mutters softly, palms sliding under your skirt, “no underwear…?”

“Eddie stole them.”

“Of fucking course.” He huffs a laugh in your ear; you can hear his eye roll with it. “Can’t say I blame him, though. I kept the ones from last night.”

You whimper high in your throat as he latches onto your lower lip, sucking it between his teeth. There’s a moment when you consider how different he is compared to Eddie; Eddie’s a little rough around the edges in just about every way, and that includes how he handles you. Not that you don’t like it, but Steve is just… gentle. Almost soft, in a way.

Your breath hitches as his fingers coax your skirt up your legs and your wet cunt hits the cool air. Hips squirming toward him impatiently, trying to meet him in the middle, and Steve’s too busy tasting you to care. “Little needy, are we?”

“Cut the crap, Harrington, I want to fuck you so bad-” You gasp when he bites down on your lip a little bit harder.

“Such a romantic.” Steve doesn’t sound as miffed as he tries to appear, as he reaches to undo his belt. “Wanted to warm you up first, make sure it wouldn’t hurt. Guess not.”

“It won’t.”

Steve lifts his eyes, staring levelly at you with an amused expression. The twinkling sound of his belt buckle fills the quiet air. “If you say so.”

He’s quick about it, to your relief. Which isn’t to say that he isn’t still infernally gentle, even though you wish he’d just grab you by the throat and slam into you at this point. That’s just not Steve Harrington’s style, apparently. No, his hands grab your hips and rub soothing little circles into the skin as his cock splits you open, and your nails scratch over his collar and up into his hair.

“Fuck, Steve.” It does hurt, just a bit. That raw aching when he fills you, because you weren’t ready for it and he’s so fucking big that parts of you have to be moved out of the way to accommodate him. Your toes curl, and your mary janes pop off and scitter to the floor behind him when you wrap your legs around his waist.

His voice low and quiet, right up against your ear, Steve gives you a small groan that tells you more about how desperate he is than his words do. “Told you. You’re so tight- think it’s too much for this little pussy.”

“N-no, it’s no-OT-” You writhe against him when he hollows out just slightly and pushes back in, getting half an inch deeper. Your hands tear at his clothes and his hair, looking for something to hold onto. “Shitshitshit- Steve, Jesus Christ.”

Steve shushes you, cradling your body against him like he’s trying to console you while he keeps rocking himself into you. “You’re working yourself up, honey, you gotta just relax. Take a deep breath for me, baby. Deep breath, c’mon now-”

You take a gasping breath that sort of stalls in your lungs because he’s still moving, and it hurts but it also feels so fucking good and cathartic that you’d kill him if he stopped. Steve’s arm is around your back to hold you by the neck, and his other hand has one of yours trapped in a crushing grip between your chests. He squeezes it softly with every slow push and pull he makes inside you.

“Oh fuck oh fuck.” You’re hissing through your teeth, clawing at his back to urge him deeper and at the same time ground yourself. Each breath leaves you with a shallow, anguished moan attached, which would be embarrassing, except you’re not thinking clearly enough to sort through the muck of your emotions right now. “Don’t- don’t you dare fucking stop.”

“I’m not gonna stop,” Steve assures you, inching forward just enough to sink his cock a little further into you before drawing slowly out, giving it to you in small doses. You whine as he pushes in, and he coos with a bit of gravel in his voice, “I know, it’s a lot. You’re taking it so well.”

“Love your cock,” you mutter weakly, surprising both Steve and yourself. Where the fuck did that come from?

“I hope so,” Steve chuckles. He squeezes your hand in his comfortingly. “I’m gonna make you take all of it, I promise.”

That sounds… kind of threatening, when he puts it like that. Like a backhanded slap and then a swift kiss to the cheek.

You like it so much.

“Hear that?” he murmurs lightly, way too soft for the way his hand tightens on your neck. In the back of your mind you register what he’s talking about- the obnoxiously slick sound of him driving in and out of you, your cunt absolutely drowning him in your need. “You’re getting my cock all wet, babygirl. Being so good for da- me.”

Steve finally slams into you just then, and you loudly cry out his name at the feeling of him reaching the end of you. It disrupts your train of thought so thoroughly that you almost miss his little slip-up. Almost.

As you recover you manage to reach up and take his chin in your hand. “Daddy?”

His eyes are so dark, but he looks a little shy as you stare into his face. He blinks rapidly, cheeks flushing a deep pink. Gotcha.

“Fuck,” Steve groans, his forehead falling to rest against yours. “Shit, don’t- you don’t have to call me that-”

“Maybe I want to,” you breathe, gasping when his hips lurch forward into yours. “I wanna be good for you, daddy.”

He growls under his breath, blunt nails scraping down your thighs. “Sounds so sweet when you say it.”

“Mm. Harder.”

Steve’s enthusiasm gives you a sort of perverse satisfaction. He hikes your knee up to his waist and buries himself inside you, his skin impacting yours and the desk thudding against the wall behind you. You whimper when he starts up a pace that has him panting against your ear.

Your head rolls back on your shoulders, and Steve wastes no time tracing the line of it with his tongue. Half aware of what you’re doing, your hand shoots down and around his hip to grab a fistful of his ass, urging him on. He nearly snarls against your throat, hot air bursting across your skin as the arm holding you to him leaves your back and his hand slams loudly against the wall behind you.

Steve really is a sight to behold when he loses his composure. He’s always gorgeous, of course- infuriatingly so, at times. But now your gaze is clouded with lust and your mind is stumbling while you blink your eyes open at him, and he’s so close to you with his hair falling across his brow and his lips parted as he stares directly into your face. His deep brown eyes are blown wide and black, heavy lidded, and you feel like you might burst.

“I’m gonna come,” you blurt suddenly, hands frantically scrambling up to his shoulders and clutching onto him tightly and trying to lock yourself down at the feeling. It bubbles up out of nowhere, like Steve managed to conjure it up just by looking at you.

You see a smirk break across his face just before your eyes fall shut. “So soon?”

“Yeah,” you whimper. “S’too good. You feel so good, daddy.”

“Oh my god,” he groans, but there’s a little bit of a snicker there in it. His hand skims your thigh and then you feel his thumb touch your clit, and everything whites out of existence. “You’re too perfect. Come for me.”

You don’t answer him. You just do, and it sweeps through you before you’re able to brace yourself for it. Fingers digging into the muscle of his shoulders, you cry out, louder than you mean to be but beyond the point of caring. Your legs shake, tense and release with each wave because Steve just keeps going- not speeding up or slowing down, but just remaining the steady constant in the ebb and flow.

Steve curses lowly, his lips dragging gently over yours but not quite going all the way in for a kiss. “Just like that- get my cock nice and creamy, baby.”

Your face burns. The rest of your skin feels hot and clammy, sticking to him wherever you touch his body. There’s a whirlwind of sound going on in your head; from Steve’s deep grunts, your moans, the desk banging against the wall and his skin impacting yours, you don’t know what’s what anymore.

You almost don’t even notice it when the phone on the wall above your head starts ringing.

“Fuck.” Steve rears back, pissed off and rutting his hips into yours so hard that you cry out. He glances at the clock on the far wall and scoffs, “Who the hell calls this late?” before snatching the phone off the hook.

His free hand finds your throat, pinning you back against the wall. You whimper, defenseless as Steve presses the phone to his ear. “Thank you for calling Mimi’s Bakery, this is Steve.”

For fuck’s sake.

You feel like you’re going to combust. You’re still too sensitive from your orgasm and Steve’s hand on your throat locks you in place to hold you still while he starts fucking into you harder. Skin on skin on skin, bent backwards over the desk as his hips slam into yours and the messy patch of hair at the base of his cock grinds up against your clit. You whine loudly, and Steve’s hand just tightens that much more to silence you.

He’s not even looking at you. Steve’s eyes have drifted off to the side, focused on whatever the person on the phone is saying. He tilts his head, gnawing on his lip and humming low in his throat while he considers whatever the question is.

“Mmm… dunno, let me check on that for you.” Steve finally looks you directly in the eye. “Do we have cream pies tonight?”

Your brain short circuits. What the… what? He… he fucking put the selection of cream pies out himself earlier? Why would he ask you?

Then he nods downward, his eyes flickering to where he pulls back and drives his cock into you. Steve looks back up at you questioningly.

Oh. Oh fuck.

You nod your head quickly, your nails biting into the skin of his forearm. You don’t even second guess it. You’re so close to your second orgasm that you can taste it on the back of your tongue, and you don’t think you could handle it if he pulled out now.

Steve grins, and you think it’s probably the prettiest thing you’ve seen all night. “Yes sir, we do. However the bakery is closed tonight, so those will be available tomorrow. Would you like me to set those aside for you? Mhm, how many?”

He goes on like that for another minute, but you’re barely listening anymore. Your cunt pulses, so wet that you can hear every slow drag of his cock before he reaches the end of you again. All your muscles lock down, your head digs back against the wall, and you come again. Hard.

“Thank you for calling sir have a good night bye,” Steve chokes out in one long breath, and then his hand slams the phone down onto the receiver. He buckles forward over you and gasps loudly. “Holy shit, oh my god. Good girl, good fucking girl-”

And his mouth is on yours, sucking at your bottom lip as his thrusts turn sloppy. His hand leaves your throat to skim around your waist and pull your chest flush to his. He cradles you close and plants his hips against yours, stealing your breath with kisses and moaning sweetly as he comes.

Afterwards, the room is way too fucking still and quiet. Your skin tingles, your cunt still pulsing with aftershocks as it milks his cock, but the silence makes your ears ring. You card your fingers through his hair, letting Steve sweep his tongue against yours as many times as he wants as long as it means he’ll stay this close to you for a little while.

“That wasn’t how I thought it would be.”

He grunts, his teeth grazing your lip. “What did you have in mind?”

“Dunno.” You pause as he presses a chaste kiss to your closed lips, your eyes fluttering. “Maybe we could do it in a bed next time?”

Steve laughs at that.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers to you, his voice touched with something so genuine that it rattles you, nearly making tears prick at your eyes. You just cling to him, squeezing your eyes shut and trying not to sniffle about it.

“Thank you,” you mumble wetly into his neck.

Steve sighs when he pulls back. His hand comes up to softly smooth your hair back as he takes in your face. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, swallowing back the lump in your throat. “Nothing. You’re just… you’re so sweet.”

He hums softly, catching a stray tear on his thumb as it falls down your cheek. To your relief, he doesn’t mock you or seem disturbed by it, he just takes it in stride. “Do you want me to… not be?”

“No, it’s- it’s a good thing, I swear-” You lean your cheek into his hand, letting him hold your face as you reel yourself in. “I’m just getting used to it, that's all.”

“Good. ‘Cuz it’s only gonna get worse from here,” Steve whispers with a gentle smile. He pets your thigh. “Feel better now?”

You grumble in the back of your throat. “The fuck’s that s’posed to mean?”

He shrugs. “You’ve been looking like you wanted to rip my clothes off since you got here.” Steve chuckles a bit when you whack him on the arm, “Only an observation, you’re not good at hiding it.”

Serves you right for thinking he was oblivious. “You guys have me fucking figured out and I’ve been with you for, like, a day.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He hisses when he takes your hip in his hand and slowly pulls out of you, leaving you whining from the emptiness. “I know, honey. Did I hurt you?”

“No,” you mutter, biting your lip when he adjusts the front of your dress and buttons it back up for you carefully. “No, you’re really wonderful. Daddy.”

Steve tilts his head and purses his lips, trying to hide the smile on his cheeks. “Wasn’t expecting you to pick up on that.”

“You’re not good at hiding it.”

Steve snickers, pulling you close to rest his forehead against yours again. He presses a few slow kisses to your lips, lingering over them like he’s trying to decide whether he really wants to go back to work or not. You’re not about to tell him to stop.

CRASH!

You both instantly freeze, listening to the ungodly loud clatter of a million pastry boxes hitting the ground. Steve’s brows dig into a deep frown very quickly, while you put the front of his pants to rights and push yourself forward off the desk.

“The fuck was that?”

“Why are you asking me, hot shot?” You smack him on the back, making him lurch toward the door. “If we’re being burgled, I’m the only one here not wearing pants.”

Still, you grip onto his belt and creep behind him through the door to the kitchen, peering cautiously over his shoulder. You don’t immediately see anything amiss in the bakery, except that half a display of muffins and cinnamon rolls has been knocked halfway to hell. Things are eerily quiet for a few more seconds, before something leaps up off the ground and starts flapping around the bakery lobby, snarling and snapping.

You scream, clutching onto Steve’s middle and nearly hauling him back into the back room again. It looks like a giant flying… stingray? No, stingrays don’t have teeth. It’s like a weird, disgustingly large bat with no actual head. Like a leech with long teeth and wings.

You vaguely hear Steve saying something, but you’re too busy trying to battle the bat in a game of who-can-screech-the-loudest. It’s only when Steve finally turns, grabbing you by the shoulders so that you can look at him, that you stop to consider what he’s saying.

“-fire, get me something with fire, okay?”

“Fire?” You try to maintain a steady balance, keeping an eye on the thing in the bakery lobby and his face.

“Yes, babe, fire. That hot shit that burns stuff, remember? Get me some of that.”

You nod mutely, starting to shake from adrenaline. You watch Steve pick up a giant metal rolling pin off the baker’s table, twirling the pin in his hand in a way that should not be as attractive as it is.

You try to think of something in the bakery that creates fire- something handheld, you assume, because the only thing coming to mind is the little stove in the corner used primarily to melt chocolate and different icings. For a kitchen, not too many things in it conjure up flames at a moment's notice.

But then you remember, on Saturdays the morning team makes crème brûlée for the brunch crowd.

You dive for the decorators table, but you honestly have no idea where they keep the blow torches. It’s a long shot in the dark, but you just start hauling shit out of the cupboards like your life depends on it.

It might, you think wearily.

Over the counter, you can hear Steve scuffling with the screeching bat, and you pause long enough to glance up at what’s going on in the lobby. You manage to catch him at the exact moment that he cracks the bat with the rolling pin, knocking it across the bakery like a baseball and making it slam into the wall beside the pastry case.

You blink down at the half empty cupboard in front of you and see the emerald green can of a blow torch, shining up at you like the light at the end of the tunnel. Your shaking hands fumble with it as you yank it out. “STEVE!”

He turns just in time to see you hurl the blowtorch across the front counter at him. Which is probably not great in the grand scheme of safety measures, but y’know.

He snatches the blowtorch out of the air right as the fucking bat starts writhing around again. Steve flicks it on and lights the damn thing up without a second thought, creating a blazing inferno on the bakery floor.

It takes a second for the fire to die down, and in that time you kind of army crawl around the counter to sit and stare at the bat with wide, unblinking eyes.

Steve says your name. You don’t respond.

He takes a couple steps toward you, but then stops short. When you snap your eyes to him, he’s running his hand frustratedly through his hair, staring at the pastry case.

You hesitantly inch forward on your knees and look around the side of it at what he’s fussing over. The case itself is intact, a few of the pastries themselves gone askew when, you presume, the giant ass demon bat flew out of it. But the back of it… that’s a whole other story.

Where before there was what appeared to be just a giant, slick grease stain, now there’s a gaping hole with a glowing membrane across it. You don’t know what it is, but Steve seems to as he swears like a sailor and drops to sit on the ground next to you.

“Bats,” you blurt out, catching Steve's attention. He turns to gaze at you, holding his head in his hands. You look at him apprehensively. “Eddie said he was attacked by bats.”

Steve is quiet for way too long, blinking at you like he’s trying to figure out what to say. Then, he nods slowly. “We need to call Eddie.”

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #stranger things #roses*

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lotus-n-l0ve · 8 days ago

Text

LOST WITHOUT YOU, BABY

— Eren Yeager x Female Reader

With Heart And Soul.

*⁠.⁠✧ SYNOPSIS : Eren sometimes feared what he would do if you had not graced his life that one afternoon of mid-march. ・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

*⁠.⁠✧ WARNINGS & TAGS : Boyfriend!Eren, Girlfriend!reader, high school sweethearts, bullying, blood, fight, mob boss!eren, smut, kiss, late night, sex, p in v, 2.4k words. ・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

*⁠.⁠✧ NOTE FROM LOTUS : Feels so good to write after so long. My exams are coming up, of course I will wanna right now 乁⁠[⁠ ⁠◕⁠ ⁠ᴥ⁠ ⁠◕⁠ ⁠]⁠ㄏ

*⁠.⁠✧ — NAVIGATION // ATTACK ON TITAN MASTERLIST

DO NOT PRESS [READ MORE] IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE. MINORS DNI, IF YOU DO THEN IT'S YOUR OWN RESPONSIBILITY. ・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐉𝐀 𝐇2𝐑 at the back of the baby blue two story house. Crossing over the wall wasn't so hard anymore after doing so many times. He ghosted across the back yard and climbed on to the maple tree before he was standing in front of the familiar window that led to your bedroom, separating you from him.

Eren stepped ahead on the rough branch leading right to the window. The glass window was left open as if you knew he would come by. He slid it open and he jumped inside the room with a thud but not loud enough to alert your parents who were fast asleep two rooms down the hallway. You were fast asleep under the fluffy comfort of the duvet.

Eren tiptoed to the bathroom and opened the door with as little noise as possible. You had been whining about the ongoing exam and how much pressure it was giving you. Eren knew he could give you the world you wanted. You only had to tell him with your sweet voice and he would bring the whole world to your feet. But he also respected your decision to do something yourself, to be independent.

Getting rid of any and every piece of clothing, Eren stepped under the shower head. Warm water glided down his body, soothing away all the tension in his muscles. Eren tangled a hand through the wet locks and tilted his head back. Drops of water pitter-pattering on his eyes and lips. His heart was felt with nothing but detest and abhor. He loathed everything, from the waking moment to the last awake second everyday.

Eren sometimes feared what he would do if you had not graced his life that one afternoon of mid-march.

The intense hit of boot against your belly sent a jolt of acute pain through your body. It would leave a ugly bruise you were sure. The blood had already dried under your nose long ago, now the area just felt tight and itchy. The next hit came down hard on your head, almost knocking you out.

“Do you have some screws loose in your head?” Your attacker shouted, stomping on your crouched body that stayed laying down on the cold floor of an empty classroom, “I clearly told you to finish my assignment and hand it over to teach. Then why the fuck is he saying I didnt submit my work?”

Two of his minions didn't try even the slightest to suppress the snickers. Standing behind their leader as if he was doing something great.

“It was your assignment. Why should I do it?” Each trembling word that came out of your mouth, hurt your throat like hell. But it was not worse than the torture you had been enduring for the past two months. Precisely two and half months ago, you moved to this new city because of your father’s transfer. It had been two months since you started attending ‘Heritage High’ and every single student here had made it their job to bully the life out of the new student. Louise Liebert being the leader of them all.

He was the kid who was never told ‘no’ in his entire life. So, when you, being the reserved kid you were, denied to exchange your new fountain pen with his already half used ball pen, it hurt his ego and he made it his mission to fill your days in the school with hurt and sorrow. The pain was special to you, your grandpa had gifted it to you for the new journey you were going to start. He always had it with him wherever he went. He called it his lucky star but it didn't seem to have much luck for your case.

Complaining to your parents got you nowhere when the school staff and children pledged for his innocence. You had a suspicion that it had something to do with his father being the mayor of the town. The only thing you accomplished was proving yourself to be a liar to your parents and increased bullying.

“Looks like you still have the energy to argue, huh?” Adler, the tall and abnormally skinny guy on his right scoffed.

“All that beating was not enough for you was it?” Baldur, the shorty onLouise’s left sneered down at you.

Louise brought his face to your level, a vicious smirk on his face, “Do you need a dick in your mouth to shut up like your mommy dearest?”

You didn't know what happened but the second those words left his stinky mouth, you shot up. Your head hitting his jaw as he went back flying, slamming his head on the hard floor. The room echoed the crazy screams of three individuals. A sense of fight or flight knocked you and you were sprinting out of the room, running through the empty hallway with three angry bulls running after you. As much as scared you were, you were also very proud of yourself. You hoped he cracked his head.

You ran and ran fast. If they got their hands on you then you were sure that you would be going home with more than just black eyes. Running up the stairs, you threw the door in front of you with a screech. They were just a few steps away from you as you pushed the door with your whole body and tried to shut the door. But your tired body was too weak against three of them.

The door swung with force, tripping you backwards on the ground. Fuck! They towered over your body, looking like hungry hyenas, very injured hyenas at that.If only you were not about to get beaten, you would have danced with joy. They closed in on you as you attempted to back away.

“Now what? Where are you gonna run now bitch!” Louise sneered.

“Why don't you worry about yourself first, Liebert…….” You see the colours drain from Louise’s face, not only him but also his minions. “......Quite the brevery you’ve got there.”

The more that deep voice spoke a little far behind you, the more shit scared those fuckers looked. Your head turned ever so slowly. The very familiar body of Eren Yeager lying on the hard bench. Suddenly jumping off the roof didn't seem that bad. If Louise was a hyena, then Eren was the lion. Eren was the nightmare of Marley. Notorious, cruel, and brutal were the words that describe him. The only son of Grisha Yeager, the successor of Lupus, the biggest underworld gang. They didn't have to hide in the shadows, no, they wore suits and flaunted themselves in the broad daylight. The government was run by the rats of Lupus.

Eren lived up to his name, Hel, beautiful on one side and cruel on the other. He had everyone in Heritage High walking on eggshells.In attempt of saving yourself from one trouble, you threw yourself in the tiger’s den.

“E-Eren–” Louise squicked rather embarrassingly, “We–”

“Since when are we on a first name basis?” His tone was nonchalant but even you could feel the threat underneath.

Eren leisurely brought himself up in a sitting position. His eyes looked this side on the floor and then that side, searching for something, before it landed on you. You could feel your heart in your throat. God! You didnt wanna be anywhere near that menace of a boy. He jerked his head to your right, pointing at something.

What is it? A bat like his last victim? Or a gun like the one before that?

You follow his gaze, landing on a black bag and an unopened can of soda. You prayed to all the gods in existence that he meant the soda can as you hurriedly scooted over to bring it to him. He glanced at your hands holding out the can for him before staring at you with a raised eyebrow. WHAT NOW?

You glanced at the can before realization drew onto you. Dumbass! You used all the strength you had and opened it and offered him again. This time Eren took the can, taking a sip of the cold drink.

“Sir Yeager, everything is this bitch’s fault.” Alder spoke up, “Had she not run in here, we would have never disturbed you.”

“Yes sir, we were teaching her a lesson but this bitch–” Baldur backed him.

Eren took another sip, “Lesson? What is this great lesson of yours?”

The three exchanged worried glances and finally the biggest asshole of the group spoke up, “We were doing this for you sir.”

“Yes we caught her bad mouthing you–”

“That's not true!!” You almost yelled in fear, “I–”

Eren held up a hand, shutting you up and signed for them to continue. You could see relief sinking on them. Their eyes glinted with smugness.

Louise continued with all the arrogance in his voice, “She was talking shit about you and we told her that she should not do that, she said that “Eren can suck my dick” that you are a lousy fucker who uses his father to get away with everything.”

“Is that so?”

You felt your heart sink. Eyes prickled with tears and nose burned like hell as you grasped what was going to happen. The best would be if he straight up strangled you to death. Your head bowed down in the last attempt of saving yourself from further embarrassment. But did that even matter anymore?

You saw Eren throwing the can to the side, out of sight, and stood up and you instinctively backed away two steps. You waited for the blow to come, you waited and waited and waited because the blow never came. But a loud thud along with a piercing scream echoed on the rooftop, scaring away the pigeons there alongside you. Your bread shot up and the scene before you left you gasping.

Dulder’s body stayed slumped against the wooden door with his head shoved into the, now broken, door. Blood pooled around his quivering form and splattered on walls, his friends and most of all, on Eren himself.

Eren grabbed Louise’s coller and brought him up to his eye lever, “You think i'm one of your minions or something that i'll believe whatever you say?”

Eren had a good five inches on Louise. His toes were barely touching the floor and that left him gasping for air, “I’m t-telling…… the…t-truth–”

“So you are saying that you think–no, believe that I should suck your dick? That I get away with everything because of my father?” Eren tilted his head to the side and scoffed, “Do you also think that my father can stop me from beating you to death? Let’s do a little test.”

The next few minutes were like hell. You could hear every sound of bone cracking whenever Eren landed a punch. Every splash of blood and the groans of pain. You had slouched yourself in a crouched position, facing the wall, in the last attempt of saving yourself. When it finally stopped, you found yourself unable to relax because he was still there. The next could be you.

Sniffles were uncontrollable, you were probably shaking like you were being electrocuted. You heard steps closing on you before stopping right behind you.

“Oii…” You felt a light kick on the back of your leg, “Are you seriously crying? After I beat your bullies?”

You tried to at least say one word but your throat was clogged with sniffles. He sighed as if you were a lost cause.

“So ungrateful. Not even a thanks.” Something fell on your head, a blazer, hiding you from the outside world, “You stink man! Go take a shower.”

With that he left you, alone, on the rooftop, with thousands of thoughts and maybe a little bit of relief. For Eren those were the best minutes he wasted and that he will never regret.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked with your ever so soft voice as you ran your hands through his long hair from the back.

“You.” Eren replied without a hint of hesitation.

You dragged your fingers down his neck and started massaging his tensed shoulder and his back.

“Another meeting with your dad?” you received a hum in response, “Then you must be tired?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Frustrated?”

“Mmm.”

“Should I do something…….to take off the load?”

You could feel the smirk on his face without even seeing it, “You know just the thing to relieve me, don't you?”

Eren didn't give you a second to reply as he turned to you, grabbing your neck, and pulled you in an intense kiss. You were just as eager to meet his passion, shoving your tongue his mouth and exploring each and every corner. He pushed you against the glass door of the shower. His hand glided down your chest, brushing on your peaked nipples and down your hip.

Giving a tap on your thigh, he whispered against your lips, “Jump.”

Your hands find themselves tangled in his soaked hair and he uses his arm to support you in the air. Eren broke the kiss, out of breath, smoke coming out of your mouth and mixing in the middle. You feel his tip poking your wet pussy. Eren glids his tip along your lips, teasing you.

“Just put it in.” You whined in a breathless tone.

Oh! How adorable you look, begging for his cock.

“As you wish, baby.”

He forced his cock in one go, making you moan as the back of your head hit the glass. His hips slammed against your inner tight in a burning rhythm. Eren placed kisses along your neck that you were sure ws gonna leave dark purple bruises before he took one of the hard buds in his mouth. Sucking and twirling it his tongue.

He dragged his dick out till it was just the tip inside and then thrusted it all back inside. Your clammy walls stretched with every push. You could feel it, the familiar knot in your stomach. Eren increased his pace, closing in. Your hand tightly fisted his hair as you let yourself fall apart in his warm embrace. Not seconds later he shot stings of hot cum in you, filling up your inside. Still inside’ he pulled in a kiss but this time it was soft, delicate and full of tender love. ・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

LIKED IT? THEN PLEASE LEAVE A LIKE, REBLOG & COMMENT. IT WOULD MEAN A LOT AND FOLLOW ME FOR MORE LIKE THESE. THANK YOU ♡

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demonicbaby666 · 8 months ago

Text

Remember Me

One Shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, brief smut

Words: 2.9k+

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, cheating, fingering, oral sex, brief mention of blood, loss

Summary: JJ has lived her whole life pleasing everyone, even if it was at the cost of her own happiness. But one day, she stumbles upon an unexpected opportunity to stray away from her norm, have a conversation, a relationship away from everything and everyone she knows. Why wouldn't she take it?

A/n: I'm sorry in advance. That's all I can say, really.

JJ fits the mould. She always has and always will.

When she was younger, she played well with other children, smiled as she let girls braid her hair, and wept when the boys tugged at them. She listened when her parents told her it was just how young boys showed interest and that she should be flattered. Though she didn’t quite understand, the little girl managed to take it on the chin and try her hardest to focus on the compliment of having her scalp ache. That was until one boy, who showed ‘interest’ in her regularly, had yanked her poorly done braid for the third time in ten minutes. The whole ordeal ended with JJ towering over him as he fell back onto his butt and cried ugly, bulging tears.

She cried in the car the whole way back home when her mom came to pick her up from daycare, shouting at her for acting so brutish. ‘You think any of the boys will like you now?’ That’s what her mom had said, but JJ didn’t care; she had her friends who took care of her, made her laugh and would only ever get feisty when it was time to share a toy.

“Even the girls will be scared to play with you.”

She never did anything like that again.

When she was in high school, she was the ‘it’ girl. Her grades were stellar, alongside her love life, as she took on the duty of dating the soon-to-be prom king. She was the perfect girlfriend, never mind that there was always an excuse not to let him get her naked when they were alone. Usually, it was that she wasn’t ready; she didn’t tell him that behind closed doors, she got in enough practice with her best friend, but that’s all it was. Practice. It wasn’t that she got butterflies when soft lips kissed along her neck rather than the gruff of unbalmed lips or when manicured nails showed her how it felt to have her collarbones traced rather than calloused fingers fumbling with her bra strap. Practice.

She married a bland man with a thick accent and a proclivity to make sarcastic comments, and together, they had two kids, forming the perfect nuclear family. How perfect, and entirely not macabrely mundane. She should have been happy and content. What she had was the dream, the societal one at least, that her younger self would have gushed at. ‘You’re so lucky,’ she could hear her little voice say, see the innocent smile on that unknowing face that was forced to gush at having her pigtails yanked and feel pride in her youthful stance. It made her stomach lurch.

Then, one day, she’s sat on a park bench, crying. She can’t remember why, only feels the anguish crack in her chest and force another stream of tears down her swollen cheeks. Vaguely, she registers she’s not alone, hears the dull creek of aged wood and tries to simmer her sobs to sniffles. When that doesn’t work, the blonde is forced to turn her stiff neck and face the embarrassment of being caught crying in public head-on. Maybe tell this stranger to pick another bench, to mind their business, anything that would get them away. Seriously, there were at least two free benches, and she couldn’t fathom why anyone would approach her in this state when there were very clearly other options.

As the dismissing words touch her lips, they fade away, eyes batting to try and halt the swarm of tears in their tracks. Soft. JJ notices that you’re soft. All she’s known her life is rough, sharp, brittle edges, from the itchy feel of a beard scratching at her chin to the unpleasurable rutting of a man inside her, finishing in twenty seconds. But your hands are not callused when they lay upon the skin of her upper arm, and your smile is not unsure as you gaze into her azure eyes. JJ doesn’t understand why her stomach is flipping, but she suddenly feels okay. She doesn’t hate herself for it. Not like how she hates herself for everything she feels.

“Are you okay?” you ask, light and open, and she hears your voice's unmistakable melody of genuine care.

The confessions are spilling out like water from a faucet, and before JJ is even aware, she’s run through her whole life and has mapped out every wrong decision that’s led her to a life of service. She realises things about herself she’d have never seen had it not been for your impartial presence and attentive nods.

You do your best to weigh in, encourage personal discoveries and meet them with reassurances and words of affirmation. You watch as this gorgeous, kind and intelligent woman unravels right before your very eyes and see the moment everything clicks. You click. You’re an outsider to the normalcy she has to display daily, and you’re not witness to the constant acts she performs to appease her husband, colleagues, and even her children. You’re a taste of what it's like to be able to simply exist away from expectations and scrutiny.

She places her hand over the one you have on her arm, brings it down to rest in her lap and traces lines over the creases of your palm. There’s something about how you look at her; it makes her feel young again. She doesn’t care about anything anymore, wants to follow her heart rather than her brain, and for the first time in a long time, she doesn’t feel guilty about it.

That’s how it starts. Every week, JJ finds herself drawn to that bench, drawn to you. You talk, and she forgets; she forgets about everything except what it is to be herself without bounds. It truly is a beautiful sight. She’s utterly, undeniably and inextricably beautiful.

You smile so brightly, from cheek to cheek, as you watch her laugh, watch life come back to her with each little confession she gives away. Like when she was younger, she vaguely remembers making her Barbies kiss, or in high school, her boyfriend's only redeeming quality was his long hair that he'd let her maintain or that only a few weeks ago she had to clear her search history after deep diving into, well that one she never finishes, but from the crimson hue that appears over JJ’s cheeks you’re able to put two and two together. The story of a new colleague joining the team rattles you the most.

JJ speaks of how she often found herself transfixed, admiring her mannerisms, her wardrobe, and how her brown eyes shone in a particular light. She tells you how sometimes, even now, when she catches the brunette's eye, her heart still leaps a little, but it’s emptier and accompanied by the bitter taste of regret. There’s a sadness when the blonde lets that confession slip, like a piece of her breaks every time she talks of it, reliving the same moments over and over, and you manage to push aside your jealousy in favour of offering her a reassuring smile and comforting embrace.

Weeks turned to months, and soon, JJ found herself staring at you in much the same way she had her junior high best friend. She knows the feeling but resents the accompanying guilt that only worsens with joining your lips together and later looking her husband in the eye. Her whole life, she’s done the right thing, followed the rules, did as she was told, and ever since meeting you, she’s realised all it had amounted to was endless longing. In a fucked way, she thinks of you as her saviour, a chance to see that her deeper desires should have always been fuel enough to turn a blind eye to so-called duty.

Of course, you’ve come years too late when she’s forged bonds that, in her eyes, will always be unbreakable. It helps to think that way; it hurts less when she takes your hand and leads you into a hotel suite booked under a pseudonym. You smile nonetheless the whole walk through the corridor, ignoring how there’s an odd smell in the air, how the carpet is sticky and stained, and how, between clasped hands, you feel the presence and prick of JJ’s wedding ring.

She needs this, and you want to be everything she needs, everything she feels, and everything she wants you to be.

And you are. And you are more.

You show her what it is to be devoured, to kiss slowly and languidly, to have sex without it feeling like a race, to be filled roughly and want it, crave it. She makes sweet sounds as you trail your lips down her body, seal them over her clit and lap at the tender bundle of nerves, never once looking away from who’s granting her this immense pleasure. By the time she’s cumming for the second time, she’s no longer chanting your name but words of gratitude, two single tears rolling down each cheek as she allows herself to feel the aftershocks of her orgasm before the euphoria dwindles.

It doesn't take long for the blonde to recover, and when she does, she’s leaning over you, an eager look in her eyes shadowed by a hint of uncertainty. She’d never done this before, never been with a woman. Sure, she’d thought about it, seen it, but it had always felt impossible. Yet here you lie beneath her, smiling, waiting, and looking so fucking perfect she knows if she doesn’t get to touch you, she’ll never forgive herself. That thought alone has her hand working its way between your legs, delving between folds to coat her fingers in your arousal before she pushes two inside you.

Again, she doesn’t look away. She can’t.

She watches the veins in your neck strain as you throw your head back, watches your stomach roll with every thrust of her fingers, watches as your lips part and your jaw shakes and can’t stop herself from kissing you when she hears you moan. She can’t pinpoint the exact moment it happened, but she knows, she just knows. Knows that when she curls her fingers, you’ll whimper; when her thumb brushes over your clit you’ll gasp; and when she sucks a mark to your breast, you’ll cum.

She whispers more confessions into the night after, and you feel a little like an intruder until she nestles against your side and presses soft kisses to your shoulder before she lays her head down on it and runs her fingers through your hair. She can’t stay; you both know it, but don’t say it. Instead, you dress each other between tender touches.

It’s the same hotel the next time and the time after that, every time. You’re used to the stale smell in the corridor and have even contributed to the array of stains. It was after you and JJ had indulged a little too much at a local bar and discovered, in the right company, that the blonde was rather handsy with wine sloshing around in her brain. That night, you both sobered up rather quickly; rushed touches turned slow, harsh kisses turned light and for the first time in both your lives, you made love.

She insists on paying for dinner when you go out, and you temporarily forget that she has a family waiting for her at home; take in the new way she’s curled her hair and done her makeup. Her smile stretches so wide it’s a painful reminder that no one’s paid enough attention to her to mention these things, and you vow that for however long you get with her, you’ll be the one to notice these things, make her realise she deserved to have the little things pointed out and praised.

Once the bill’s paid, JJ suggests a stroll, and you agree because it’s not outside the norm to walk to the hotel, paper trail and all. But as the blonde takes the lead, gently guiding you forward, you realise you’re walking to another familiar staple in your and JJ’s story. She’s first to sit down on the park bench, and you don’t hesitate to join, tucking your body into her side to ward away the slight chill of the evening breeze.

“Cold?” JJ asks, a little confused, what with it being July. Still, she wraps an arm around you and pulls you perfectly closer, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“A little.” you smile. “Nothing to worry about, though.”

It’s quiet for a while, and both of you are content to exist beneath the glowing stars together. That’s until you hear a text alert from JJ’s phone that could only be from one person. You’re not angry as you pull away from JJ’s warmth, allowing her to reply to her husband in peace, though you can’t deny that a sudden hollowness fills your chest.

“Do you forget about me too?” JJ whips her head up and shoots you a look of confusion. “When you’re with him, do you forget about me?”

She places her phone down, and there’s a small victory in discovering you come first, at this moment at least. Soft hands land over your cheeks, and JJ pulls you into a slow kiss filled with so much devotion it leaves you dizzy. You pour just as much into the kiss as you’re being given until you’re both too desperate for breath that you’re forced to pull away. You don’t stray far, meeting JJ in the middle as you lean your foreheads together and feel each other's breaths steady.

“How could I forget you when you're all I think about?” JJ whispers, pecking your lips before she continues, “I miss you. When you’re not beside me, I miss you.”

It’s what you needed to hear - reassuring enough to put your thoughts aside and allow JJ to kiss you again, to guide you to the place you ended most nights together, and to undress you. This time, JJ asks for no pleasure on her own and demands only yours. She doesn’t let you touch her, not until she’s had you cum over her fingers thrice already, has her head between your legs and her tongue inside you. Only then does she guide your hand to her hair, feeling bad for the crumpled bedsheets she’s sure you’ll rip anytime soon, allowing you to push her further into your sex. She laps hungrily like she’s starving for air, and you’re the promise of full lungs until you’re blissfully fucked out and spent, pushing her away and begging for breath.

When JJ crawls back up the bed, the pride clear as your slick on her face, she pulls you half on top of her and holds you tighter than she ever has before.

“Please, don’t forget about me,” you mutter over her heart, squeezing your eyes shut.

On the walk home, you grind your SIM card into the tarmac pavement till it’s unrecognisable. You walk past the park, past yours and JJ’s bench and let yourself cry ugly tears before smashing your phone against the ground and allowing the glass to cut your hands.

It’s easier to do knowing you won’t face the consequences for long. You know she’ll find someone who’ll love her just as much as you do, and the thought fucking stings more than the physical pain you’re in.

You think to yourself that JJ was probably too caught up in what she wanted you to be for her that she never really and truly saw you. She never saw the paling of your skin, noticed how it became easier to mark you or looked away from your kind eyes to the bags beneath them. But in a weird way, you’re okay with it, because you got to be what JJ needed you to be. And maybe that was your purpose. Perhaps that’s why you didn't go straight home months ago after you’d received the test results from the hospital; instead, you walked to a nearby park. Maybe all along, your last months weren’t meant to be yours to live; instead, they belonged to someone else, and lord knows, JJ got more use out of them than you ever could.

It’s a nice thought to drift off to, even if the monitor next to you beeps a little too loud, a little too slow, you tell yourself you were something to someone. You were, you are someone she won’t ever forget.

—

She’s crying again, in the same park, on the same bench, except you’re not there this time. Her hands are bare of jewellery, and she wants to be happy about it, but you’re not here. Her eyes search the barren benches, and she's repeatedly calling out your name till her throat is raw and blistered. JJ doesn’t know whether she’s cursing you or calling to you; she only knows that this is freeing, that each time your name leaves her lips, it feels like reopening a flesh wound. She keeps going till her lips are chapped, till she cold starts to raise goosebumps over her arms, until the setting sun glints off something in the corner of her eye. She looks to her side, catches a metal plaque on the head of the bench she’s never seen before and traces her fingers over the familiar letters until everything starts to make more and less sense.

Tags: @babygirlscout @red1culous @sapphicprentiss @five-bi-five-mind @12fluffybunny12 @asensitivecookie @maxinehufflepuffprincess @whosprentiss @imlike-so-gaydude @jareguiromanoff @lovelyy-moonlight @patronagrona @paulilvsremus @lostenby @waitaminutebaby @jarexuslover @iliketozoneout @homo-oddity @milfsincrime @noahrex @pnsteblnme @asolitaryrose3 @waitaminuteashh | click here to be added to my taglist

#jennifer jareau x you #jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau smut #jennifer jareau angst #criminal minds x reader #jennifer jareau imagine #jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau fanfiction #criminal minds #cm #Jennifer jareau x y/n #criminal minds fanfiction

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geordikisser · 6 months ago

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comforting you! | isaac, nick & blake

epilogue: continuation from my hcs post! :-D i previously made one of tanner & larry if you’re interested in that piece as well! basically something very personal came up. sorry if yumis sucks 😞😞 i failed u all..

content contains! angst, suggestive ( yumi )

⤷ gender isn’t specific! (gender neutral.)

♡ isaac: you clenched your teeth as tears poured down your cheeks. you would rather be caught dead than like this. you feel your face heat up, audibly sobbing a little too. you shakily reach for your phone and swallow your pride and called isaac. you knew you being alone isn’t what you needed. as you even clicked the call icon, you hear a knock on the door. your heart drops as you quickly wipe your face dry instantly. “yes?” your voice being drowned out from your tear & snot stained shirt. “baby? i’m coming in, ok?” that loving, honey-dripping voice made your heart flutter. “i-isaac?” you accidentally stammer out. he opens the door and gives you a goofy smile. “i got food, did you not see your phone?” his smile falls as he furrows his brows. “baby? what’s wrong.” he notices his phone ringing from you and he felt so horrible. “my poor baby, let me hold you.” he ushers towards you and sits besides you instantly, his arms opening to embrace you.

you felt those familiar tears well up once again and you fall into the embrace. “i missed you so much!” you sob out as he shushes you gently. “i’m here baby, i’m here. don’t ever worry, i’ll always be here.” he hums to you. your breath hitching as you try to recollect yourself. “i know me being gone for 20 minutes didn’t do this. what’s up.” he pulls away, wiping your tears away. you sigh, shuddering slightly. “i- can’t get into that.” you murmured under your breath slightly. he nods, his face meeting your own. “i’m so ugly.” you cover your face, shying away from him. he instantly pulls you back. “no you aren’t. you’re beautiful. you are a thing of beauty. never once have i ever doubt that.” he kisses you cheeks, tracing down to your jaw. “i love you so much my beautiful baby.” he lies you down and wipes the rest of your tears away. his tender hand meeting your worn out face. “you don’t need to tell me anything, okay? but i’d love to know.” he kisses your jaw continuously. “you are ok, i promise baby.” he whispers to you. “i’ll tell the guys to save food for you, okay?” you nod weakly, your hand interlocking with his own. your thumb rubbing on the back of his hand. his gaze being a soft, reassuring one.

♡ nick: you felt uneasy, you were feeling everything but yourself. nick was coming back from the gym as this panic rises in your chest. you feel the heat in your face become unbearable, overwhelming, and started to cry. you began to weep and weep quietly from how overwhelmed you were. you felt so hot and itchy and crazy. you tried to pull your hair back away from your face and couldn’t process anything properly. you chewed on your bottom lip as you began to sob. as the front door jingles, a familiar key sound following it. you recollect yourself and try to stand up, your body lying on the cold floor in the living room. the door opens and nicks eyes are instantly on you. “babe?” he drops his gym bag instantly. closing the door behind him and locking it right after. he rushes towards you and brings you to your feet, instantly falling into his arms. “hey hey hey! what’s up.” he asks worryingly, seating you two on the couch. you crawl close. as close as you can get to him. “i’m so sorry.” you sob into his shoulder as he shushes you. “you have nothing to be sorry for, look at me honey.” your breath hitching as you pull away to look at him.

“what happened, baby? tell me.” his eyes softening. “i- i feel really overwhelmed. i feel so itchy and hot and i can’t breath!” you exclaim, tugging as your shirt. he nods as he pulls your hair back for you with his steadier hands. “this heat getting to you, my dear?” he smiles weakly at you as you nod, clipping your hair back to keep off your face. “i’m sorry this heat is getting to you my pretty baby.” he kisses your temple and his hands envelope yours. “despite this heat, you look iridescent in my eyes.” he coos sweetly as you huff, looking away. “you must’ve felt so weak, i’m sorry honey. next time ill leave the ac cooler for you.” he rocks you back and forth, lifting the back of your shirt up to get some cool air up your shirt. “let’s get you in a thinner and shorter shirt, ok? this long sleeve might be getting to you.” he gestures you to stand with him and you nod. “i’ll always be here to help you, always.”

♡ blake: you reach out to yumi, shaking him awake. it was rather late and you felt like your head was gonna explode. “hmm—.. ugh, fuck.” he groans, bitterness taking his tone. “blake!” you stammer out weakly. his eyes shooting open. “what..” he groans groggily. sitting up. he turns to you and see your eyes welling up. “babe? the fuck happened?” his mouth getting the best of him. you stutter out what the dream was about as you fiddled with your hands anxiously. he nods as he takes your hands into his and uses his thumbs to caress the backs of your hands. “i’m so sorry you had to see that, baby.” he frowns slightly as he kisses your forehead, decorating your face in kisses. you let a few tears fall as he hums gently. “ahh don’t cry now, okay? you’re strong.” he grunts, squeezing your hands. “you are stronger than you know.” he looks at you, a small smile on his face. “you are so strong, babe. don’t let some dream take over that.” he kisses you once more but it’s tickled with passion. you feel your eyes soften as you melt into his kiss. you fall back onto the pillow, yumi hovering over you. his hands still in your grasp, his face heating up. “seeing you like this hurts me too. my strong baby getting fucked up by a dream? i won’t let it happen again. not on my watch.” he kisses your jaw gently, slowly tracing to your neck. you whimper softy as yumi smirks, chucking slightly. he lifts his head to to make eye contact with you. his eyes half lidded, barely opened. his gaze a mix with sleepiness and lust slightly. “i can make you forget that dream.” he offers with a grin. you giggle as you push him slightly. “stoppp..” you groan, yumi chuckling. “you strong, baby. you are so smart and loving. don’t loose that vision because of a bad dream.. i love you.”

#isaacwhy #softwilly #larrycroft #yumi #yumimain #bigt #isaacwhy x reader #softwilly x reader #larrycroft x reader #yumi x reader #bigt x reader #the group chat #tgc #the group x reader #the group chat x reader #tgc x reader #smut #gender neutral reader

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aryxchse · 9 months ago

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hello!

i see ur requests are open so i have one (potentially) if ur willing to write it!!

yk how we get some glimpses into a dark percy jackson in the HoO series when he’s protecting annabeth… what if we got some of that for jason grace? potentially like the reader, she’s threatened by a minor god or monster or anything, so jason kinda goes unhinged? maybe like, he takes the air out of the opposing party’s lungs or anything else kinda unhinged?

i hope any of this makes sense lol thank uuuuu

🫶🫶🫶

dangerous storms / jason grace x female! reader.

a / n : I WAS THINKING THE EXACT SAME THING BECAUSE WHY THIS MAN HASN'T BEND SOMEONES OXYGEN ALREADY???

warnings : jason grace's angry self, airbending type of shit, cursing, DANGEROUS JASON I REPEAT DANGEROUS JASON!!

jason grace was a calm man.

he was rational, he would think before he act and he never made a move with his feelings. call it him being roman, or his father being literally the king of the gods, or maybe him growing up with a wolf raising him. jason grace was always the type to show his powers through strategic thinking.

well, everyone has boundries right?

he had a thin line in between destroying one thing or everything when it camed to you. if you're fine, then no one has to fear for anything. if you're okay, safe and healthy, no one has to panic.

but if it's the other way, than everyone should pray. even the non-believers. because jason grace can be scary and intimidating when he wants to. and he's so damn good at it.

things weren't supposed to go this way. you weren't supposed to get kidnapped by some giant. the plan wasn't this way, then why, why we're you in danger?

jason stopped being rational. his brain only said 'why, why, why' for like, an hour now. jason wasn't thinking straight. jason wasn't thinking.

"jason, we're gonna save her," piper tried to charmspeak him, but it didn't worked. the girl who put gaia back in sleep, couldn't calm down the son of jupiter.

percy jackson, who was feared by most monsters, demigods and even gods, was afraid how jason acted at the moment. but he didn't judged, he knew he would act the exact same way if something happened to annabeth. which, he did.

he was the only one who would go down with him if he asked. boundries we're boundries, and percy knew that very well.

"jason, we can make a plan." piper tried again. she was trying from the moment they got you. but it wasn't working and she started to get anxious.

"yeah, man. she's strong, she could be on her way back here even-" leo tried his best too. he couldn't recognise his best friend right now. he should've been like percy, who wasn't judging jason's madness and ready to go down with him. but he couldn't—it was like leo meeting jason for the first time, again.

"i already have a fucking plan." jason snapped, but he was quiet. which, it didn't help with the gang's fear. "and you guys are not involved."

"you sure?" percy asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. "my hands been itchy these days, and riptide is no better."

jason wanted to smile, but his situation didn't allowed. instead, he softened his gaze, just a bit. "thanks, but i'll handle it myself. it's my war now."

percy nodded, giving a look at the team. 'if someone wants to stop him, they have to go through me.'

"go get em', tiger." he joked. and jason flied away, not answering.

‎ ⚡️

you would fight for your life if you weren't hanging up by the chains on your wrists. your feet we're dangling in the air, and arms hurting from carrying all your weight. the sick giants put some fancy greek dress on you, making your hair prettier while you were unconscious.

the giant fucking fell in love with you, and it certainly did not liked jason.

jason. we're was he? what happened to him?

well, you we're about to find out.

"oh dear," the ugly beast purred, his big hands finding your tiny body. you disgusted, squirming under his touch to get away. but it was no use.

"you'll be all mine once i make the potion." he rambled, drool on his chin that showed you how hungry he was for you.

"in your fucking dreams." you spat, eyes shooting daggers. you we're jason's girl, and your own person, most importantly. "i'm already taken."

the giant growled, mixing the sound with his sick laugh. "that jupiter boy? he got nothing compared to me sweetheart!" he yelled and his voice echoed through the big cave. where we're you, even? "he has to kill me to get you!"

"be careful what you wish for." the sound made you melt instantly. how was he able to find you? well, you didn't cared to be honest. he was here.

jason's eyes we're nothing like before. it was like his own eyes had their storms and thunders. one part of you we're amazed, while the other got scared. you knew he wouldn't even touch you if it ever hurt you, but you we're scared for him. not from him. for him doing something he'll regret for the rest of his life in order to protect you.

but, jason seemed to not give a damn.

"you tiny little demigod! you have no chance against me, you don't even have a god next to you to kill me!" he yelled, leaving you dangling in the air again. you wanted to call jason's name, but your voice muffled through the lightning.

"i don't fucking need a god," jason hissed, taking position. "i'll send you tartarus myself."

it all happened quickly. jason was so fast, unlike the big giant trying to capture and kill him. he was like a lightning himself, moving in light speed. there was a blonde thing moving, and you couldn't understand if it was his hair or sword. also there was little lightning sparkles that helped you figure him better.

then, the next thing you knew, jason was on top of the beast's face. he quickly called a lightning before stabbing his sword into the giants eye. it growled, but didn't falled.

"this is what you take for hurting my girl. my loved ones." jason said, his free hand going up in the air. you thought he was gonna make the giant eat some lightning, but it didn't go that way.

"remember my name in tartarus," he flied up again, taking a large air with him. the beast suddenly started to choke, holding it's neck desperately. "and make sure your friends does too."

it was the last thing giant heard before falling down, his oxygen flying in the air and dissapearing. jason immediatly flied towards you, cutting your chainst and holding you by the waist before you fall.

"jason," you breathed out, crying. you couldn't believe what you just have witnesses, but you figured it was the best to not mention. you we're happy that you we're safe now, in his arms.

"baby," he panted, hugging you so tight. you guys slowly landed on the ground, jason still clinging on you. "thank gods you're alive."

"i got scared," you admitted. normally, you would rather die than admit someone you're scare. but it was your jason, who could you tell if you're not gonna tell him? "he was gonna- jason, he was gonna make me one of them."

"shh baby it's okay," he cupped your face, his own tears matching you. but he had a smile, a smile that appeared once you we're in his arms. "i'm here. no one's touching you ever again okay? i'm here." he gently wiped your tears away, kissing you after.

you relaxed the moment your lips met, but it wasn't very long until you both heard footsteps again. jason quickly picked you up in bridal style, flying away from the little crack of the cave.

later that day, you both layed together in his quarters at argo ii. everyone decided that they shouldn't ask questions, like they didn't asked percy and annabeth after they got back from the tartarus.

even coach hedge let you snuggle eachother, because he saw how hurt jason was. he needed you for his own sake, to stay sane.

jason was the child of storm after all, he knew how to be scary when he wanted to. he kept it all inside when you we're near and safe. but if something slightly happened to you, he knew how to show them real power.

#DARK JASON MY LOVE #stop making him like he's some weak airbender rick #HES THE CHILD OF ZEUS FOR GODS SAKE #KING OF THE GODS HELLO #percy jackson #jason grace x y/n #jason grace x you #jason grace headcanon #jason grace imagine #jason grace pjo #jason grace #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the heroes of olympus #percy jackson series #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson imagine

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obriengf · 1 year ago

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Forbidden Cloth || Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Summary: Stiles uncovers a strong disdain for Ugly Christmas Sweaters. Words: 1k Warnings: just stiles being cute af so don't read if you're not into that Notes: guys i rambled so much in this

hope he's bringing me love this christmas cause i deserve you here ✩

"Do you like my sweater?" Your voice carried such sweetness; an innocence that made a young man's heart swell with an overwhelming warmth. With that tone, you could get away with whatever you wanted and he would be right behind you, following every move, your cheerleader for life. You stood in his kitchen doorway, arms stretched between the dark wooden arches, a sense of 'ta-da' shown on the high upturn of your smile and showman's stance. And Stiles would have happily played along - singing your praises, throwing compliments - if it wasn't for the hideous fabric gracing your frame. His face dropped; speechlessness weighing down his tongue, brows furrowed and head tilted as he was truly lost with what to say. Your sweater soon absorbed every ounce of his focus and Stiles hated it. Truly, absolutely hated it. His jaw moved as words gathered yet remained unspoken, until, in candid Stiles' fashion, he let his mouth run before he could think it through, "What the hell is that?" Your brows furrowed, only mildly taken aback by his outright and unfiltered way of finally speaking. You hummed, "What are you on about?" Your question was rhetorical, to you at least, knowing full well that the itchy and bright bundle of fabric that you wore was anything but appealing. But you couldn't help yourself - messing around with the awkward mess that was your boyfriend was something that never failed to put a smile on your face. With pursed lips, you gazed down at your sweater, trying your hardest to not visibly cringe at the exaggerated embellishments. You hummed once more as faux naiveness contorted your features, "You don't like my sweater, baby?"

"I-I..." Stiles mumbled, trepidation sneaking inside his thoughts, trying to convince him to avoid offence. But the thing about Stiles Stilinski, even though he is the epitome of support and determination, he also has a bad habit of forgetting to filter his opinions before they escape his busy mind. "Like it? But it's so... so ugly."

It was quick when you saw his eyes widen; large warm irises of brown complementing his raised brows and ajar jaw. It was as if the mere second the words left his lips, Stiles realised what he said, and how much trouble he could be in. A deer caught in headlights, frozen and unmoving despite the rapid racing of his heart as it reverberated in his chest. He was potentially, and utterly, screwed.

"Wait, you think it's ugly?" You repeated his words, shot them straight back with a delicate timbre as your hands ran down the sides of the mismatched patterned wool. Stiles was looking worried now, and your capacity for games was wearing thin when you could see how he was beginning to pale. You managed a chuckle, filled with light and sincerity, as you began making your way toward him, "Good thing that was the whole point."

He watched you snort, his face dumbfounded, amusement breaking at the seams as his brows rose and the corners of his lips lifted in absolute puzzlement. His body was tense as he had braced himself for the blowback of how his unfiltered words could have caused harm, how they could have made you sad and insecure. He would never hurt you, not intentionally, and the guilt was hasty when it seeped deep into his bones and set every alert and emotion alight.

But now he was staring at you and that beautiful smile that was burnt in the back of his mind - living there rent-free, happily, most likely for the rest of his life. And by god, did it make him smile back with just as much joviality.

"I-I don't... baby, if you don't like it, why are you wearing it?" His words laughed but remained quiet as you got closer. It took everything for him to not come face to face with the bright and retched cloth in front of him as he opted to instead stand, eventually towering over your shorter frame, his hands large and delicate as they cupped your cheeks so habitually. Thumbs rubbed tentatively against skin; the touch was barely felt, but it was enough to provoke a red blush to gather where Stiles trailed.

You went to speak but froze in place - his childish gaze making you melt into the backdrop of your Christmas-covered apartment, always so mesmerised after all this time spent together. He had an effect on you, and he seemed to know it by the way his eyes had a mischievous glint that complemented well with his bitten lip.

"It's a thing, wearing ugly sweaters for Christmas." You breathed as your hands pressed to his chest, maintaining some sort of stability as he continued to courteously invade your space. His head tilted as he once did before, curiosity in the form of large puppy eyes and relaxed brows now contorting his features. It made you laugh within your word's undertones, "I've seen people do it on social media and it's cute, you know? Couples wearing matching sweaters -"

"You got me one too?" Stiles intercepted, but you could hear the hesitation in his voice. He loved you, so much, probably too much, but just the idea of wearing something as off-putting as your own sweater was something that made him cringe. "There's no way that you're gonna get me in one of those, sweetheart. I'd burn down the world for you, hell, I'd help you bury a body, but I'm not doing this ugly sweater thing."

He put his metaphorical foot down, but you saw no harm. If there was one thing that you admired so incredibly much about Stiles Stilinski, it would be his outright honesty - sometimes confused for an unfiltered mess, but you loved it regardless. You smiled up at him and he smiled back, unspoken understanding building the foundation of your relationship and it made the man lean down and press a gentle peck to your forehead.

His lips dragged down to your cheeks, your lips, under your ear before he whispered against your sensitive skin, "Alright, now go take that hideous thing off, and that cute little skirt while you're at it."

#dylan o'brien x reader #stiles stilinski x reader #dylan o'brien #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski fic #stiles stilinski imagine #teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #dylan o'brien fic #dylan o'brien imagine #teen wolf fic #teen wolf imagine #obriengfchristmas

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sykoangels · 4 months ago

Text

being relationship with deadclaws 💋

a blurb / headcannons

author notes: this is afab!reader this is also a polyamorous relationship post as well!! also this is NSFW AND SFW!

safe for work 💋

dates between both men are polar opposites. Usually, when you are on a solo date with Wade it’s something fun and silly like watching terrible movies and critiquing them or rewatching the whole adventure time series in one sitting and discussing the lore. Dates with Logan realistically are very laid back probably alcohol tasting or him teaching you about his favorite cigars and how to smoke one correctly

Mandatory movie nights every week! Each week yall get takeout from the shitty Chinese takeout down the street and watch movies from an iceberg tear-list y’all made way back before you guys dated.

Wade is a horrible chef his food is actually inedible. So Logan usually does all the cooking even though he doesn't like too.

when cuddling or sleeping the arrangement is Wade on the left Logan in the middle and you on the right. So you and Wade can sleep on Logan’s pecks and used them as pillows.

Holidays such as Christmas and Thanksgiving are always done up to the 10th degree. You and Wade love cliché ugly and itchy sweaters and a good homecooked Thanksgiving meal. Logan isn’t the biggest fan because he finds it obnoxious but he does it to make you happy especially (to stop Wade’s complaints)

For a birthday present, you got Logan alcohol you and Wade to drink since you all are younger than him (obviously above the age of 18!!). You brought him stuff like Pink Whitney and White Claws. He hated it but pretended to enjoy it because you were so happy to get it for him.

Wade’s love language is physical touch! he loves cuddling and kissing! he’s very into PDA to the point it could be compared to kids you see in high school mouth harassing each other in the hall. Honestly, you don’t mind because you can always tell him to cool down and he will.

Logan's love language is acts of service!! Even though Logan is very fierce and rugged on the outside. He always had a soft spot for you and Wade. He would do small things like give you his jacket when you’re cold or go out of his way to cut up fruit slices for you as a snack when you aren’t feeling well, sometimes he would go out of his way to buy your favorite drink from a coffee place you liked. He always constantly remembered the little things that you just say in passing and don’t think about it’s locked in his brain somewhere.

“do you know how beautiful you are bub?” Logan says just randomly (just admiring your beauty)

“If i was a Pokémon trainer you would be the main Pokémon i would use. You know like how team rocket has meowth? You would be my meowth!!” Wade says randomly (he has a weird way of complementing people)

not safe for work 💋

both men are insanely horny for you and sometimes they need you to fix it. In some instances they would both try to fight for your pleasure like a two mangy animals.

double penetration! especially after a fight

they have eiffel towered you before (iykyk)

Wade prefers late night and semi-public sex

Logan prefers sleepy morning sex or angry rough sex

Logan and Wade are both into insane levels of pain. It’s sadomasochism heaven when them.

they both have pictures of you in their wallets of in their favorite lingerie or skimpy outfit. Especially when they are away on missions.

face sitting especially with Logan while Wade is deep inside him. Logan can’t help but to nip at you as he struggles to keep it together due to Wade’s erratic thrusts

breeding 👏🏼 breeding 👏🏼 breeding (especially when Logan is in some form of heat usually around the spring / summer) He would wanna breed you and Wade simultaneously, and sometimes it happens.

“that’s it. Let’s stretch that hole out.”

“we'll make it fit”

as Wade said “pegging isn’t new for him.” It’s not new for Logan either. You pegged him on your birthday and everything changed. You had never seen him so needy and whiny before.

Wade is sometimes a cuck! He genuinely likes seeing Logan pound into you while tears of pleasure spill out your pretty eyes.

y’all have sex tapes! three of them. Wade jokes about if this mercenary / superhero? / x-men bullshit doesn’t work out they would leak them on purpose to become the next Kardashians.

“fuck~ baby your hole is pretty it’s almost like you made it for me.”

“that’s it bub.. finally using that bratty mouth to use.”

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steviewashere · 10 months ago

Text

I Am the Kiwi

Rating: General CW: None Apply! Tags: Post-Canon, Post Season 4, Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Insecure Eddie Munson, Negative Self Talk, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Calls Eddie Munson Pet Names, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson

🥝—————🥝

Maybe he shouldn’t bother their tentative relationship by asking insecure questions.

But that’s not how Eddie’s mind works. He’s never known peace unless there’s been an answer. If he senses the beginning of a question like the itchy fur of a kiwi on his tongue, he has to spit it out. And only then, even if the answer is bleak and even if the answer is negative, he’s at peace with it. He’ll just remember to cut the skin off later, taste the fruit for what it is, find something else about it to savor. Because not everything is sweet. And most of the world is bitter like the skin of that kiwi.

He peels the skin off, hair and all, offering it out to Steve to ponder. In the quiet space of his living room, surrounded by warm love in the shape of Wayne’s mug and hat collection, the five year old instruction manuals for appliances they don’t even have anymore, and amber lightbulbs stained with the broken limbs and melted corpses of stink bugs. Maybe he is an unfortunate bug, drawn to Steve’s light. Maybe he is willing to give himself, all of himself, the ugly parts and disgusting parts to something warm and savoring and bright inside Steve. He knows he is. He always has been.

In the quiet, Steve hot under his arm, droopy with fatigue, chuckling low at the sitcom on the television set, Eddie prickles with unanswered unease. He drags his rough palm down Steve’s soft right arm, fingernails dully scratching from mole to mole, pressing into his loose muscles. Eddie leans his head down, cheek laid atop Steve’s voluminous hair, and he breathes him in. Fruity sweetness, floral undertones, some sort of professional salon shampoo. He kisses tender.

“Why do you love somebody like me?” He breathes. And in the quiet, he startles himself, no matter how much that question begged to break free. Steve tenses in his hold, but Eddie can only force him in tighter. Fingers pressing harsh into his fatty parts. Nails mean and sharp and jagged. He buries himself farther into Steve’s beautiful hair.

His boyfriend is gorgeous. And he’s self-sufficient. Kind in a way Eddie seems to have forgotten to be. How can somebody like Steve love him?

Steve doesn’t answer right away. His breaths falter in the room. Like he’s trying to catch his breath after being scared in a haunted house. Maybe, if Eddie allows himself to marinate in it, maybe it’s exactly like that. There’s something rippling, haunted, venturing lonely and howling under Eddie’s skin. He thinks it started with his mom’s death, percolated when his dad went to prison, came full bloom like a crumpled flower on Wayne’s doorstep so many years ago. In a way, Steve is scared. Not scared of Eddie. Or the truth. But this third thing, of answering the question. Of finding the right words, to which Eddie knows he struggles with—so in all aspects, asking something partially insecure and partially selfish is demeaning. It’s, if Eddie thinks about it, challenging Steve’s love.

There is no response, not yet. But what does fill between them is the live studio audience laughter. The laughter of people who probably didn’t find the joke particularly funny or even clever. They’re just there to laugh. To see behind the scenes of some TV show. To be recognized among the crowd.

Sitcom laughter. And Eddie refuses to let Steve see him.

He hears Steve take a tentative deep breath. The back of his hand touched by the softness of Steve’s palm. And he’s reminded, even in the simplest interactions such as this, that they come from two different worlds. Of all those biases he held onto for years. Unable to get over himself or get with the program. Steve is nothing of what Eddie thought. He’s a jock, sure. And he’s got the better life in some ways; nothing to really label him as other and a status that seems to override him, but it’s not negative. He isn’t a bully. He’s soft and kind and sweet and loving, not a douchebag. A good person. Where, sometimes, Eddie feels as though he lacks all the qualities that Steve seems to be plentiful in.

“Eddie—“

“No, sorry,” he apologizes immediately. His voice small and childlike. “Sorry, that’s not okay to ask. You love me and that needs to be enough.”

Then, Steve shifts. Pulling himself away, sitting on the edge of the cushion, turning to be face to face. And Eddie’s ashamed. He’s mad at himself, too. If the heartbreaking soft sadness in Steve’s eyes is anything. His little frown, pulling down his pretty lips and furrowing his eyebrows and making him wrinkle in all the bad ways. He tilts his head and peers at Eddie.

“I love you because I just do,” he murmurs, “I don’t know how to explain why I do. You’re unlike anybody I’ve ever loved.”

Eddie swallows, takes a breath, and asks, “In a good way or a bad way?”

Steve’s gaze softens. The sadness still lingering, but replaced by determination, even the lightest form of it. “Always in a good way,” he whispers. He reaches out, takes Eddie’s right hand in his left and squeezes. He’s so soft. “You know who you are. And you’re loud about it. I admire that about you.” He closes his eyes, thinking. When he’s gathered, his voice is enamored and murmuring, “And, baby, you’re gentle even if you don’t realize it. You know how and when to take care of the people around you. I’ve never—I’ve always been the one to do that in relationships. You make me feel…Complete.”

Eyes back on him, Eddie swallows most of this insecurity. “Really? You think I complete you?” He questions meekly.

Then, Steve nods, not even taking a moment to consider. Because he just knows. “Yeah,” he mutters, “I know we just started this whole…thing—“ he swings their tangled hands back and forth between them. Eddie chuckles, earning him the most earnest smile he’s probably ever seen. “But, I have a feeling that we’ve got something special. Plus, we’ve got all the free time in the world, y’know, now that it’s not ending. We’ll be okay. I love loving you.”

“I love loving you, too,” Eddie murmurs in turn. He brings his free hand up and brushes some stray strands of Steve’s hair back. Thumb tickling down his temple, swiping under his eye where it’s heavy and blue. “I’m sorry for doubting your love.”

“Honey,” Steve sighs. “It’s really okay. I get it, you know? Everybody has their insecurities. Hell, I have some deeply awful ones.” He leans into Eddie. His warmth radiating once more. Breath ghosting over his cheek, words soft, “I will always reassure you. Because I know you’d do the same for me.” And then, Steve presses a tacky, sweet kiss to his cheek. The tip of his nose crumpling with the soft plunge he gives into Eddie’s skin. He is cracked open raw and for once, instead of being turned away or shunned, somebody is there to enjoy him. Steve is there to savor. “You’re special,” he whispers, “my special one.”

Eddie can only melt in his hands. He’s content with this answer. Fulfilled.

This relationship may be new, but Eddie knows it’ll soon be something sacred. Like the sticky, sugary green insides of a ripe kiwi.

🥝—————🥝 Fun fact, I'm allergic to kiwis. Found this out after my tongue got itchy from the skin of a kiwi. That was a scarring thing to discover in the middle of my kindergarten snack time, tell you that much. Haven't had one since.

#stranger things #steddie #fanfiction #eddie munson #steve harrington #hurt/comfort

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taffycandyqt · 1 year ago

Note

Hi, I was wondering for if I could submit this prompt when requesting. It’s kind of similar to ember’s and wade’s dynamic in Elemental and it’s slightly angsty but it’s mostly lighthearted.

-It includes Donnie from the 2012 show and the reader. The premise is that the two started to bond during the three months they were refugees at the farm during season three due to the Kraang Invasion, The reader starts to develop feelings for Donnie as the feeling is mutual, but he’s quick to deny it- due to fearing of being turned down again and having a complex where he views himself as a freak due to being a mutant turtle and not being able to fit in with society and happily accepted.

-the reader tries to confess to Donnie on how they love him in the woods but he’s quick to shut them down(even if it’s mutual) : saying that it could never work out due to them being different species and how he’s just a mutant and could never make the reader happy in the end. The reader comforts Donnie and they have a heart to heart and Donnie reconsiders the confession.

I was actually sooooooo excited to write this you have no idea!!!! Ngl tho this turned out way longer then I thought it would and I kept getting stumped and then taking like month long breaks so sorry this one took so long!😶

Okay, listen!

2012 Donnie x reader

Fluff! Slight angst, comfort

After the Kraang invaded New York everyone moved to live in April's old farm house you and Donnie ended up getting closer than you originally thought. You guys are friends but your feelings have changed. Donnie always thought you would be happy with a human partner so now you're left with a broken heart and no best friend.

"Donnie, your not just a mutant," said April. Donnie had come to apologize to her about the way he acts towards her. Which is fair. While he didn't mean any harm it was good he was starting to understand boundaries.

You had been bringing groceries back to the farmhouse and saw April and Donnie talking. You could use some help with the bags so you decided to enlist Donnie's help bringing them in.

"hey Donnie, April!" You greeted.

"Hi y/n!" Donnie replied.

"O-oh hey, y/n." April seemed to feel a bit awkward.

"Hey D, when you get the chance could you help me bring in the groceries?"

"Oh sure y/n! Sorry what were you gonna say April?"

"Um- well... just that. I care about you Donnie, mutant or not."

You had made it inside after hearing that and set the groceries on the counter before turning to head back outside. Donnie met you in the kitchen and you two walked back out to the car to grab everything else.

Walking back to the farmhouse you decided to ask.

"You mind if I ask what you and April where chatting about?"

"Nothing really. I was just saying sorry for making her uncomfortable. And that I didn't realize what I was doing until bigfoot came along. Now I just feel like an idiot, ya know? Everyone told me it was creepy, even you!"

"It happens to everyone, sometimes people just need to learn things from first hand experience. Now you know and you won't make the same mistake again." You shrugged. You never did care for his shenanigans but you made sure to tell him when he crossed the line.

"Yeah, never again." He cringed at the thought. Even though he was relieved the situation with April was finally over he couldn't help the fact that it still hurt. Yeah, he understands that April doesn't like him and why. It certainly doesn't help, though, that this whole situation picked at a prominent insecurity of his like an old itchy scab. That being that he will probably never be loved that way.

Because he's just an ugly mutant.

As he helped you put everything away he became lost in his own thoughts. As a result, however, you couldn't help but notice his crestfallen expression. Racking your brain to find a way to comfort him only one thing came to mind. Out of all the brothers you were least close to Donnie. You guys never really had much to talk about. And as curious as you were about his inventions he was usually to preoccupied to answer questions or you were swept away by someone else before you could ask any.

Now though, there was nothing urgent or exciting (even if it was new) that would demand your attention.

"Hey D, you working on anything new since we got here?" You asked while putting the last of the food in the pantry. It was a simple question really, but you figured it was better than nothing.

"huh? Sorry did you say something?" He blinked.

"I said you working on any new contraptions lately or have you just been settling in?" Now turning from the cupboards to look at him. He stared at you blankly for a second more before confusion shifted into his face. He must not have expected you to ask. Makes sense, you never have before.

"I- Well I have been working on something but I'm not very far its a- well it's kinda like... it would probably just be better if I showed you. I- if, you want." He ran through his works sprinted through those stutters and punctuated his sentence with a swift look at the floor.

"Sure, I'm free right now, as it happens." You joked to lift the thin bed sheet of awkward that had seemed to settle over the two of you.

"Oh. Okay, uuuh follow me."

He didn't laugh. To be fair he didn't need to but you've been wondering for a while if you have a bad sense of humor soooo, ya know, that was fun.

Regardless you followed him to the old barn where he set up shop. Old tools and scrap metal where strewn across the desk he stopped at. He then promptly turned around and stepped out of the way to awkwardly present his unfinished work at the center of the desk. He was right, he was not very far with it at all. You had no idea what you were looking at. Regardless you stepped closer, gave it a good looksie without touching it, and then turned to Donnie.

"Explain it to me."

He looked at you like you had shown him the answer to all the worlds most complicated scientific questions. It didn't take long for him to knock back into reality though, and when he did oh boy. You opened a whole new book, and this book, it made you feel like you never learned to read. Luckily, Donnie was never short of words to help your understanding.

And that is how you bff-ness started. The two of you were practically inseparable, neither of you realized how well you meshed until that fateful day and how boy did you both of you feel you missed out. Infact, you went from being the least close in the whole group to being tweedle Don and tweedle Dum Dumb.

Not to say that you were dumb, you just did stupid crap and convinced Donnie to do it with you. At first, people either didn't care or was happy that you guys grew closer. However, as time went on people either wouldn't care, or be extremely annoyed by your guys' constant "experiments" in the woods.

(when Leo woke up though, he was just concerned tbh. Like: Ohmygoshnoooooooo😰)

And by experiments, well, there was the time you guys lit a tree up and almost started a forest fire. Or that time you insisted that you knew your mushrooms and convinced Donnie to help you make a soup with some, only to get yourselves massively sick. And let's not forget the time you jumped off a tall rock into a small lake only to realize that that small lake was infact just a really big puddle.

As April would put it, you two got along like a house fire. Which is another incident you two almost caused, just... ya know... in the barn. So its not as bad!

You and Donnie were chilling in the barn like you normally did when you weren't trying to get yourself killed (allegedly). Donnie had long since finished his explanation on this device for testing April's brain waves. You two sat in comfortable silence as you daydreamed tilting on your chair, legs propped up on the back of the sad excuse of a truck. Inevitably you tilted to far and fell to the floor with a loud WHOMP!

Donnie turned around concerned for you wellbeing, like a normal person. However before he can say a word you speak.

"Hey D, you ever use a magnifying glass to burn messages into stuff?" Staying put on your place on the floor not seeming to bothered.

"no?"

At this you grin up at him and whipp out a magnifying glass from your pocket.

"Would you like to?"

Gosh that smile. He learned pretty quickly that whenever you smiled like that you were gonna do something. You were set to enjoy yourself wether he came along or not. Like the puddle incident. he tried to tell you it seemed to shallow but you did NOT care. He couldn't stop you from jumping but he could stop you from breaking your tailbone. And when he went to catch you the force of your fall threw him right on his butt with a loud splash. No one hurt, (yes you were, you just couldn't tell yet) just drenched. You guys just sat there laughing for a good while before you finally admitted you should have listened to him.

That's when he decided that even if is was stupid he'd at least tag along for the fun of it. And that's what led him behind the chicken coop looking for broken boards or thick sticks to burn creepy messages. You wanted to scatter them around the forest and see what would happen if the others found them. It seemed to be a harmless enough prank. That is until you actually got to burning the stuff.

You both began buring your messages on the sicks behind the barn. Donnie having chosen a classic 'I'm watching' with you deciding on 'you smell different awake'.

"You're so weird." Donnie laughed.

"Perhaps, but you can't tell me that the idea of someone sniffing you in your sleep isn't creepy."

"I feel like someone sniffing you awake without you noticing is the creeper implication there."

You both continued debating about wether it was creeper to be sniffed unknowingly asleep or awake. During said debate, without realizing, you continued to point the magnifying glass at perfect angle towards your stick.

And after a little bit of a back and forth between you and Donnie he stopped you.

"hey do you smell something burning?" You look back at your stick right as a small fire erupts on it. You were kneeling pretty far over you stick and the fire was almost right in your face. You freaked, jumping out of your skin and kicking the stick away from you.

Right. Into. The barn.

"Oops." Is all you said as the fire started to eat up the dry wood of the ancient barn wall.

You and Donnie kicked into panic mode as you both started frantically fanning the flames with your jacket in hope of blowing out the fire. Unfortunately for you the fire was already at the point of no return. Fanning it would only blow the flames further up the barn. After realizing that was only making it worse you started to kick the wall in hopes of stomping out the flames. Donnie, meanwhile, nervously shuffled in place looking for and thinking of anything he could possibly use to put out the fire. About to head in one direction before stopping and changing trajectory only to stop again to repeat the same panicked tango. Throughout this whole disaster you were both screaming at each other. Either about ideas to put the fire out or incomprehensible fear.

Eventually due to all the racket Leo and Raph came outside to see what the frick was going on. Leo, because he was trying to meditate, and Raph because you both needed to shut up.

When they saw what whas happening however, they went from annoyed to frantic real fast. Raph went inside to fill a bucket with water while Leo grabbed the hose to do the same. When Raph ran through the house he grabbed Mikey's attention as he was walking down the stairs. Then he got April and Casey's who were in the kitchen when he started impatiently filling said bucket.

Not answering any of their questions from the moment he got to the kitchen to the moment he ran out all three curious teens followed him to the smoking barn. There was no bucket by the hose so Leo had opted to just bringing the hose to the fire however the water couldn't quite reach so he was pouring water into yours and Donnies hands. You both threw water on the fire that had almost entirely engulfed flames. Safe to say, it wasn't doing much. That's when Raph splashed the wall with the contents of the bucket and put out a big portion of the fire. He then grabbed the hose from Leo's hands and began to fill up the bucket more. April yelled to you and Donnie, and motioned to Casey and Mikey. You all followed her to the basement where more buckets lie and ran back out side. Safe to say with all the water and everyone helping out the fire was finally quenched.

Luckily it all happened pretty quickly only the outside of the one wall was singed. April was not happy about it though and wanted an explanation. You were quick to confess and now your not allowed to touch glass.

Over the time that you and Donnie would spend together at the farm house you would continue to bring that incident up. While the others were less enthused about your jokes you and Donnie couldn't help but laugh.

On this specific occasion you were looking for frogs in the woods while telling Donnie a sleep a terrible dad jokes. Not a single one had made him laugh, but you knew what would.

"Stop, I think I'm gonna flatline from how bad your jokes are." Donnie motioned dramatically.

"Oh come on don't be like that. I'm on FIRE right now."

There it is.

"Pffffft. Nooo!" He giggled, "You can't just bring that up every time you tell a sucky joke."

"I don't know what you're talking about, I am incredibly talented when it comes to, lighting up a room."

A small pause was shared between you before the hysteria finally hit. Was it stupid? Yes. Was it really that funny? No. But you guys loved it.

Donnie loved it.

He loved your laugh. Your infectious smile. The way you looked at him like you really saw him. The way you listened to him like you were really hearing him. The way you would ask questions right as he was about to finish and egg him on further. The way you would say 'explain it to me', every time he showed you a new invention. Truthfully he could just start telling you but it made his heart jump in his throat in the best way. The way you would study whatever he was making trying to figure out what it is, only to turn to him with shiney eyes to say those four perfect words.

But honestly, these walks and in the forest were his favorite. Not all of them ended in disaster and when they didn't, they were usually quite comfortable. You two used to chat about your lives back in New York but eventually you both ran out of interesting things to say. So you stuck to talking about events at the farm house but there usually want much to talk about then either. Seeing as you two spent practically every waking moment together.

Even still, the silence was comfortable. It was easy to enjoy your presence. Man if he knew having a best friend would be this great he definitely would have focused less on his crush. His feelings for you were completely different from his feelings towards April in the past. He wanted to die every time he said almost anything to April, but with you? I knew he could say anything, stupid or not, and he'd be okay. And if he went to far? You told him, he'd apologize, you guys would move on, and vise versa.

"hey D?"

"Yeah?"

"How are you doing lately?"

"huh? What do you mean?... I've been doing, fine... I guess. Why do you ask?

"Well- I mean. Uhhhhhm. It's just, it's been like a month since the whole bigfoot... situation. Just wanted to check in. See how your feeling ya know?" You shrugged and kept your eyes trained on the floor while you kicked a rock.

Donnie look at you and then back forward. There's another thing you do. His family and friends care about his general well being but none of them go out of their way to ask him if he was okay randomly. He felt just fine in the moment and to most that was good enough.

"Yeah I'm feeling good. It was kinda hard at first, but I got over it a lot faster than I thought I would." Gosh had it only be a month? If you asked before then he would have told you that April was his soulmate. Now? She's definitely just a good friend. Maybe even a sister with the amount of time she spent with him and his brothers.

"Good good." You nodded. You were honestly really happy for him. You knew he was setting himself up for disappointment with April, your just glad it over.

You kept your eyes trained on the dirt in front of you. Not cuz you felt awkward anymore, that feeling was dismissed when Donnie answered your question. So no, not that. You couldn't look at him right now. Not when he basically told you, you might have a chance. Admittedly you've always thought he was the most attractive of his brothers, and you always admired his creativity and skill. But, he liked April, and there was no way you were A. getting in the middle of that whole mess, or B. signing up for having your exact house address known at all times down to the meter. However, not only has he realize that was overstepping, but he doesn't like her anymore! So can you really be blamed for smiling a little to wide at the news?

As you finished you walk and went back to the farmhouse you decided now was the time to start dropping hints. You want to be sure there was at least a 50% chance of him liking you back. Was that low? To some, maybe, but you could never be 100% sure unless he told you.

As you walked up the porch and approached the front door you leaned into Donnie softly. Like a gentle nudge almost. The first step would be to initiate more physical contact. You wanted to ease into ease into it. Jumping straight into cheek kissing like April did could end wrong in so many ways. Donnie looked at you with a quirked "eyebrow" and a slight smile like he was asking like you 'whatca' need silly?'. You simply shrugged to communicate you didn't need anything and walked into the house.

After dinner you and Donnie went back to the barn with some blankets, planning to spend a late night there. One for Donnie so he didn't get cold while he worked and one thick one for you so you didn't get cold while you sat in the truck and played games like two truths and a lie with him.

You both enter the barn and head to your respective places.

"This truck is such a lost cause." You chuckled.

"you say that everytime we stay up here."

"Because it's the truth! This truck is sad and in pain. It's old and decrepit and needs to rest. You and Casey need to let it die."

"The only way I let that truck die is if someone dies in it."

"Dang, I guess I'll have to make the noble sacrifice then."

"You say that like the car may or may not explode at any moment and you shaking into up isn't making it more likely."

At this you look up at Donnie and stop you settling into the rusty vehicle immediately. Surprise evident on your face served with a hint of actual concern. Donnie looked back at you with an unwavering expression of deadpanned unconcern.

"Gotcha."

"OH YOU JERK! I was legit worried I would actually DIE in this crappy car!"

"Didn't you call dying in that car a, what was it again? 'noble sacrifice'?"

"Oh shut up and work on your nerd thing!"

He stuck his tongue out at you and you stuck your back. You both chuckled and he turned to his work desk while you whipped out your phone. Eventually you started a game of guess the hummed song. You usually won since Donnie preferred to work in silence and never felt a need to develop a large playlist. It was fun none the less and ended when the night finally got too late and you fell asleep.

"There." He said as he finished up a part of his invention, "Hey y/n-". He paused when he noticed you fast asleep. Sighing as he moved towards you. You being fast asleep ment it had gotten too late, and while you both planned to stay out here late, he figured now was a good a time as any to go inside and get some proper sleep. He went to pick you up but before he could his breath caught.

You were deeply snuggled into your blanket rapping yourself tight in your makeshift cocoon of cotton. Your face smushed against the edge of the blanket with your body hunched as far in on itself as it can be. You looked so small and soft and... precious.

No.

He couldn't start up that sort of train of though again. He just got out of a nightmare situation with April. He no longer sought her out in any romantic way and was perfectly content being friends. That, however, did not change the simple fact that you would never be happy with someone like him. He was a freak. Whenever you thought of a romantic relationship you probably thought of doing all that normal romantic stuff like going on dinner dates or to the movies. Normalcy is something he would never be able to give you. What he could give you? Was some stolen trash and alien tech welded together and a T-phone.

Donnie took whatever feeling your squishy sleepy face had ripped to the surface and shoved it right back where it should have stayed. For your sake, and his.

Unfortunately for him attempting to sleep after returning you to your room would prove to be quite the difficult task. Images of your smiling face and sounds of your voice plagued his mind. He could so perfectly picture your focused eyes trained on where ever he directed your eyes. The thoughts of you shook him to his soul and he began to realize how the difference between his feelings for you and April wasn't in romantic inclinations. No. Rather it was in sure intensity and comfortability. He realized a bit to late the sheer depths of his affections. This time however he was determined to keep them to himself.

The next morning you detached yourself from your bed later in the day than the others. When the time came to pull together some sort of meal for yourself, you decided to go the simple route and microwave a premade breakfast. Opening the freezer you greeted ice cream kitty with a pat on the head and in return, she handed you exactly what you were looking for.

As you stared at the microwave heating your mediocre food Donnie made his way into the kitchen. He looked much more out of it than you. You could only assume that after he moved you inside to get some proper rest that he spent the rest of the night at work.

"Sleep well Don?" You asked half teasing but still wanting a real answer.

"OH! Umm- well. Not really." His tone was awkward and skittish. He barely looked at you as he got out the necessities for cereal, only shoot you quick glances only to get startled when you caught him. You got fed up with this quickly.

"What?" Though it was phrased like a question your tone made it seem almost like a statement.

"H-huh?"

"Why are you acting like I killed your mother?"

"Wha- I am not!" Finally he was looking at you properly.

"Uh huh. That's why you haven't looked me in the eye till just now. I'm not blind Donatello, I see you glancing at me when you think I'm not looking"

"I wasn't!"

"You have the persuasionary skills of a first grader, you know that?" You deadpanned.

"look I'm just- out of it right now. It's nothing." You eyed him. Donnie was many things but a good lier was not one of them.

"If you say so."

You both continued in silence for a bit longer but unlike most silences between you two this one seemed heavy. Awkward and anxious.

"How bout' a walk later then?" The woods were always good for airing out bad vibes.

"... Sure."

Even with his previous reservations in regards to his feelings for you he still wanted to be your friend. Walks in the woods were a staple for you two. And who knows? Maybe it would be just the thing to get his mind straight.

Oooooor not.

Was it a bit optimistic of him to think a walk would help with you right next to him. Probably. You both had settled into the comfortable quite that had grown to become common. The gentle breeze sat on your skin and he watched as it brushed your hair one way and the other. The sun was shining overhead casting strong shadows on the two of you from underneath the trees. The air was warm and he was acutely aware of the close proximity between you both. His skin prickled at the sensation of your arm brushing his. The crunch of the leaves beneath your feet and tweets of near by birds did little to distract him. The more he though of it the more he regretted saying yes to this walk. His heart was drumming to the sound of your gentle breaths and he wrung his brain trying to focus on the scenery.

You could tell something was still off with him from this morning. He was stiff and way more interested in the trees than he ever was before. You stood closer to him in an attempt gauge what he was feeling. You however always struggled when it came to interpreting emotions. After a few moments of heavy silence you asked.

"Donnie? What's going on?"

"I don't know what your talking about."

You stepped back, "Oh you SO do." You knew something was up and you knew he knew too.

"What?!" He thought he was doing pretty well at keeping it to himself. Had he really been that obvious?

"Look Donnie I don't know what your dealing with right now but I know it's something. I won't force you to tell me but don't lie to me about it okay?" You patted him on the shoulder for some comfort and then backed off. You were aching to hug him or squeeze his hand but you couldn't. Not now. Not as a friend.

You both walked for a little while longer until Donnie abruptly turned to you.

"Y/N!-"

"Yes?"

He grabbed your shoulders.

"It's not- I- I don't what you to think-"

"Donnie. Breath"

He looked you in the eye like he didn't want to. He had so much he wanted to say and so much he knew he couldn't. You sat him down on a beach and crouched in front of him. He took a deep breath, seeming to come to a conclusion of sorts. This time he looked you in the eyes with conviction.

"Sorry. I'm just tired is all, I didn't mean to worry you."

You eyed him suspiciously but decided to continue on your walk. Things had seemed to return to their normal flow. Fun conversation and light teasing.

You both decided to take a break on a log after a bit before heading back to the house. The air was fresh and crisp. Aside from the chitter from the occasional bird, it's was quiet. The stillness really made it feel like it was just the two of you in this little bubble. You leaned on Donnie's shoulder and sighed.

"I love you."

It was a breathy and quiet confession meant to stay in you head. If it weren't for Donnie stiffening and his short "what." you would have though that's where you said it. You calmly moved off his shoulder to look at him, hoping all he heard was incoherent mumbling.

"What?" You asked.

"Did- Did you just say you loved me?"

Well that was unexpectedly direct and problematically uncharacteristic.

"I- I uhhhhhh-" you didn't want to lie to him. You couldn't. You couldn't tell him now though! This was the worst timing imaginable! But you had no choice, you wouldn't lie to him.

"... Yeah. You don't have to say anything I don't want to burden you when your clearly going through something I just, well, we were just-" your gaze drifted to your hands as you rambled.

"I can't return you feelings."

"What? What did you say?"

"I can't return your feelings so- maybe, um, you should hang out with Casey or April more. When we get back. Today."

"oh."

You both walked back to the house in silence.

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

You and Donnie stopped spending as much time together after that. The others in the house noticed too but they didn't say anything. If someone did try to ask they would be met with silence or a short "everything fine."

Safe to say Raph was NOT happy about that. He had known you and Donnie long enough to know that you two not only had a thing for each other but that you were both unhappy with this arrangement.

So, he decided that if either one of you were gonna mess it up it would be Donnie.

"Alright. What did you do?" Raph questioned as he closed the barn door.

"Not now Raph, I'm busy." Donnie responded as he continued with whatever he was making.

"Oh I know. Since your too busy for y/n, you must be absolutely SWAMPED!" sarcasm dripping from his voice. This got too Donnie. Why was Raph acting like he's the bad guy?! Y/n would be happier with a human partner, they didn't know what they were saying! No one could actually LOVE a mutant monster like him.

"You don't know anything Raph, leave me alone."

"Educate me then."

"Could you not today? I'm really not in the mood."

"You know what I'm not in the mood for Donnie? Seeing you guys depressed everyday cuz you messed something up with y/n!"

"I DIDN'T MESS ANYTHING UP!" Donnie raised his voice and finally turned around, "THEIR HUMAN! THEY SHOULDN'T BE HANGING OUT WITH A BUNCH OF MUTANTS SO OFTEN!"

"Oh so suddenly because they're human they're too good for us huh? Or are you trying to say that we're to good for humans?!"

"NO! THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU!"

"HOW COULD IT NOT? IM A MUTANT TO!"

"BECAUSE I- ..."

"WHAT? BECAUSE YOU WHAT?"

"Nothing. It doesn't matter. Go away." Donnie shooed Raph out and turned back to his invention.

"No!" Raph grabbed him by the back of his chat and spun him around to face am directly, "answer my question. Because. you. what?"

Donnie stares Raph down but didn't breath a word.

"You're a coward Donnie." was all Raph said before turning around and slamming the door behind him.

Little did he know this would bug Donnie way more than it should've.

Raph then made his way to you, you were in bad shape.

"Hey," He said, knocking on your doorframe. You were draped over your bed staring at your ceiling and shoving expired potato chips in your face.

"hi."

"How ya feeling?"

"How am I looking?"

"Like a wreck."

All you did was snap your finger and point at him as a way of saying, "bingo".

"Look, I don't wanna bug ya but I know something happened between you and Donnie. Tell me what happened."

"You'll just laugh at me."

"If I wanted to laugh at you I would have done it by now. You don't exactly make it a hard thing to do."

"Gee, thanks."

"Come on, it might make you feel a little better."

You sighed, maybe it would. On the one hand, you haven't exactly told anyone about your feelings yet. On the other hand though, it isn't very often Raph is like this. This might be your best chance to get all of this off your chest. Deciding to take the rare opportunity you sad up and faces Raph.

"I... I don't know where to start."

"Try the beginning." Raph smiled at you. You eyed him nervously and nodded.

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

You had told him everything, and honestly, after saying everything out loud you felt...

Angry.

Yeah, you were kinda embarrassed about your accidental confession but what the heck was Donnie's answer?! He didn't have to return your feelings but now he didn't want to hang out with you at all? WHAT THE HECK?? Left your bed and started you way to the barn were Donnie was.

"Hey, where are you going?" Raph asked, shocked at your change in demeanor.

"To kick Donnie's butt!"

Raph laughed but made no attempt to stop you. He deserved it.

A little before you reached the barn how we Donnie had decided that Raph was right. Avoiding you was cowardly and he needed to properly talk to you. As much as he forced the distance between the two of you, he did miss you.

Before you could open the door it swung open from the other side.

"Y/N! I uhhhhhh-"

"We need to talk D."

"Uh.. YES! Yes we do! Come on in." Donnie was panicking, you looked mad. Oh geez how was he gonna say this? He was so focused on fixing things with you that he forgot to think of anything to say that would fix it. Lucky for him you started.

"So, I should hang out with April and Casey more, huh?"

Or maybe not so lucky. What was he supposed to say?

"How come we never talk anymore? You don't have to like me back but that doesn't mean I'm suddenly unable to be your friend! You were friends with April the entire time you liked her!"

"Well his situation is a little different from that but I actually wanted to fix our friendship too." Donnie said hopefully.

"How is this any different than when you liked April?" You crossed your arms utterly DONE with Donnie's nonsense.

"Oh, ummm... Th- that's not important. What is important is tha-"

"Oh nononono. What's so different?"

Why did you have to get stuck on that detail?

"It doesn't matter y/n. Was matters is that I'm sorry for avoiding you and-"

"Well it matters to me Donnie! What makes this situation so different?!."

"I think I was wrong it is pretty-"

"NO TAKE BACKS! WHAT MAKES IT DIFFERENT?"

"NOTHING I JU-"

"WHATS THE DIFFERENCE?!"

"I LOVE YOU TOO!"

"..."

"Are you kidding me?"

"I... well I didn't plan on telling you but-"

"YOU SAID YOU COULDN'T RETURN MY FEELINGS!"

"BECAUSE YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOUR SAYING! IM A MUTANT! I'M NOT NORMAL! NO ONE WOULD WANT TO DATE A FREAK! YOU'D BE HAPPIER WITH A HUMAN!"

You were in complete disbelief. Did he seriously just say that?

"Are you saying this because April rejected you? I thought with the whole bigfoot ordeal you learned it had nothing to do with your looks." You flatly responded.

"I- I know that." He told you, looking to the ground.

"Donnie, your a mutant. Not a freak, not a monster, and if I was really put off by your looks I wouldn't have become friends with you in the first place. Your a mutant. That's it. It doesn't change how I feel about you. Do you honestly think my feelings for you are so shallow?"

"I don't know. I don't know what to think. I'm just... I guess I'm just scared that one day you'll look at me and think that you made a mistake. That you picked wrong."

"For a such a smart guy your pretty dumb you know that?"

He looked back at you and in that same moment you hugged him.

"I decide my feelings Donnie. Not you. I decided to love you, and if you really do love me back, maybe we could try this" you gestured to the two of you, "before immediately assuming it wouldn't work out?"

Donnie smiled and hugges you back.

"I would like that. Thank you."

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And it's done! Man that took forever. Honestly, I'm not sure what to think of this one. It for sure isn't proofread but I hope you like it!

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