#it's been awful since late april | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alloftheimagines · 2 years ago

Text

roy kent | just friends

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST | KO-FI

words: 3k

warnings: strong language because it's roy fucking kent, mentions of alcohol but not intoxication, bad date experiences with rude and not nice people, including comments on reader's body.

single parent!reader (they/them, bi/pan) x uncle roy in which he is your best friend and go-to babysitter when you have an awful date that ends early. protectiveness, hurt/comfort, and a heated confession ensues.

prompt: Roy Kent x Reader, Friends to lovers?

You’ve never been more relieved to be home, even as the sound of screaming children drifts from your house. You press your forehead against the cool door, taking in a deep breath. “Past their bedtime. Again,” you mutter, but your best friend allowing your daughter to have a late night with his niece, Phoebe, is the least of your worries after what you just experienced.

Horror. Pure horror.

“Oi!” you hear the deep, gritty voice of Roy Kent echoing down your hallway. “Come back ‘ere and do my other hand! Can’t be walking around with only one set of fucking nails painted!”

Giggles follow, and you smile despite yourself. They give you the energy to open the door finally, and you step in to find your hallway lit brightly, Phoebe flying out of the kitchen with chocolate smeared across her face and bright blue nail polish in her hand.

“Don’t be getting that on my carpet!” you warn, alerting everyone to your presence.

Your daughter, Maisie, skips out next, waving. “We’re painting Uncle Roy’s nails!”

“Lucky Roy!” She’d been calling him “uncle” for the past year, though neither of you is related to the footballer-turned-manager. Maisie picked it up from Phoebe, and Roy hadn’t seemed to mind, since you’re practically best friends anyway. You’re constantly trying to tire the kids out with play dates at one another’s house, or else exchanging babysitting duties so one of you can have a free night. Of course, Roy isn’t a single parent like you, but he watches Phoebe enough that you’ve formed a bond over the years, one that stemmed from your shared love of your chaotic children.

That bond has blossomed into something much more than you bargained for, though. After all, he is Roy fucking Kent, and his rough exterior matched with his hidden, softer side was always going to be your downfall. But since he’s been in and out of relationships and never made a move, you’ve let the small crush lie, trying to distract yourself with dates.

Terrible, terrible dates.

Like the one you had tonight.

“You’re back early.” Roy emerges last, leaning against the doorframe as he blows on his wet-varnished nails. “It wasn’t the one who speaks like someone’s pressed fast-forward on the TV remote again, was it? I told you they’re a loser.”

“No. No, it was someone far, far worse than Fast-forward Frank.” You sigh and try to ignore the flickering in your chest, because gruff footballer Roy Kent is currently being pampered by two ten-year-olds and seems to be enjoying every minute.

“Fuck,” he deadpans. “I’ll grab the wine.” He wanders back into the kitchen.

You huff again, kicking your shoes off your aching feet and heading into the living room, where the girls are painting one another’s nails. It was at least nice to snuggle up on your couch and watch, legs curled under you. They’re arguing, of course, but you’re good at tuning that out most of the time.

“You look very nice, Y/N,” Phoebe compliments. “Are you dressed up for my Uncle Roy?”

“No.” Even so, your cheeks flush, and you can’t help but hope he noticed your appearance before you left earlier. In fact, you’d been wondering all through dinner why he’d pursed his lips, jaw ticking, as he’d looked you up and down with shiny, dark eyes. It hadn’t exactly been the look of a man who lusted after you. More the disapproving stare of a father about to tell his child to go and change. “I went on a date.”

“What’s a date?” Maisie asks.

“14th of April,” Phoebe answers confidently. You smirk, glad when they return to their own little world.

“Right girls,” Roy says as he comes in. “Go and play upstairs, now. We’re talking about adult stuff now.”

“And you should be in bed,” you remind, because you suppose that one of you has to be the responsible parent, and it certainly isn’t him.

The kids groan but trudge out of the room, leaving you in peace. Somehow, that’s even worse. You don’t really know why; you’ve had lots of awful dating experiences, but tonight, you’re just… exhausted. You don’t want to have to keep searching for something that most people find without a problem. You don’t want to meet new people who you don’t connect with, don’t even really like, just because the alternative is sitting at home with only a child for company, or sometimes Roy.

Roy places the wine on the coffee table and raises his brow. “Go on then. Tell me what was wrong with this one.”

“It’d be quicker to tell you what’s right. They started by telling me to put a blanket under me in their car so I wouldn’t scuff their leather seats. And then when I told them I had a kid, they looked me up and down and said ‘ah, yeah, I can tell. Have you looked into cosmetic surgery?’” You wrinkle your nose as Roy scoffs.

“You’re joking!”

“I wish I was joking.” You rest your head against the couch cushion, closing your tired eyes. “They tried to order a salad for me after that. I told them fuck off, I’m having the garlic bread. They didn’t like that.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. Do you have their address?” Roy is already scrambling to get up, and you aren’t sure if he’s joking or not.

You roll your eyes and tug him back down. “Stop it.”

“I’m not fucking joking. Where does this wanker live?”

Okay, you realise. Not joking. His jaw is clenched, brows even more furrowed than usual. You’ve seen him angry before, but never… seething. It rolls off him until you yank him down a second time.

“I don’t need you to beat them up. I need you to drink wine and tell me I’ll find the right person one day.” You pout as you pick up your wine glass, only half-joking.

His nostrils flare, but he settles down. “You will find the right person,” he reassures. “People are just dicks. You deserve better than all that shit.”

“I wonder sometimes,” you admit. “Nobody wants a single parent. I’m a package deal, and… well, there’s a reason I’m still single after all this time.”

“Oi.” He nudges you, draping his arm around the back of your couch so you smell his aftershave. You turn into the warmth, the comfort, though there is so much space between you still. More than you’d like. In another life, he might have been the one you were looking for. In another life, you weren’t searching for a good, healthy, passionate love, because you’d found it long ago, in the schoolyard where you met.

But you’re in this life, you remind yourself, and you’re a far cry from the people Roy has dated before. It’s clear you’re just friends. You always will be.

You lift your brows, waiting for whatever lecture he’s about to give you.

His eyes pierce yours. “Don’t even bother going there. You and Maisie deserve the fucking world, and fuck anyone who isn’t going to give it to you.”

The words pierce your heart, and something damp and warm trickles from the corner of your eye. A tear, you realise too late.

Roy sighs, the rough pad of his thumb brushing it away. You’re not surprised by his gentle touch, though most people might be. You know him too well to think him anything other than tender-hearted and caring to his core.

“Don’t get fuckin’ upset over that prick. Please, sweetheart.”

“No. I’m not.” You sniff, feeling pathetic. “I’m just overwhelmed. Tired. That’s all.”

His touch drifts to your hair, brushing through the strands and tucking a few behind your ear as your eyes flutter shut again. You could stay like this for a long time. For forever. He has no idea just how much you need him, how much better things feel when he’s around. It would just make sense, you and him — if you took away his fame, at least. You love one another’s kids. You’d become family over the years. You trust him with every fibre of your being as the one steadfast person you can count on.

“Y’know, you’re the person I’d call in the middle of the night if I needed to bury a body. Or if I thought there was a ghost in my house or something,” you admit.

His face crumples. “Ey?”

“Just…” You lean into him, burying your cheek against his chest. “You’re the only person who hasn’t let me down or left me.”

His movements are stiff as he wraps his arms around you, but he melts into you quickly, holding you to him until you’re not sure where you end and he begins. You hear his heart echoing in your ear. Feel the prickly bristle of his beard against your skin. It’s the safest you ever get to feel, and it’s rare you allow yourself to be so vulnerable. But tonight, you can’t find a reason to keep pretending.

“I never would,” he whispers. “If it was me, if you gave me a chance at a family like yours… I wouldn’t fucking waste it. They’re idiots, all of them. You and Maisie are precious. You deserve the best. Don’t stop until you find it.”

You pull away, pulse racing. It’s never felt right to address your feelings before, and perhaps tomorrow you’ll regret it. Maybe you’ll lose him, even, but you believe him when he says he isn’t going anywhere, and you have to know…

“What if I already have?”

His frown lasts for minutes, hours, as he looks down at you. And then you see it dawn on him, and you don’t want to hear how this story ends. You don’t want to be rejected twice in one night. You stumble up. “Forget I said that. I had a couple of drinks at the restaurant, and I’m all… loopy. I’m going to get some snacks. Are you hungry?” The drinks were non-alcoholic, but he doesn't need to know that.

“No,” Roy says.

It’s all he gives you. The message has been delivered loud and clear. He doesn’t want you. Tears sting your eyes as you leave the living room, heading into the kitchen. You catch your reflection in the window and almost break down entirely. You’re an idiot, and you’ve gone and embarrassed yourself in front of the one person you can be yourself around.

You grab a tissue, drying your tears, but fresh ones fall all the same.

And then your back prickles and you know he’s followed you.

“Oi,” he breathes gently, tilting your chin up as he reaches you. “What are you getting upset for?”

“I’m not,” you lie pathetically, looking anywhere but at him. “You can head off if you want. I can watch the girls tonight and drop Phoebe off—”

“Can we just rewind a minute? Do you… Do you think that you and me…?”

“No! God, no. No. No, no, no.”

“Oh.” He nods, leaning back on his heels. "So no then?"

“No!”

“All right, I fucking get it.” He lifts his hands as though they might wipe it all away. “I just thought that’s what you were saying before, on the couch. I thought…”

“You should stop thinking, Roy.” You offer him a flustered smile, your face burning. “Honestly, let’s just forget about it.”

“Right. Fine.” More silence. And then: “What if I don’t want to?”

“Don’t want to what?”

He shrugs. “Forget about it. What if… we’ve both already found the right people?”

Your body is electricity now, and you can barely breathe. “What… do you mean?”

He scratches his stubble, lowering his gaze. “Well, I could take you on a date. I’d be much better at it than the losers you’ve been seeing.”

You’re caught off-guard, hands trembling, “Is that what you’d like?”

“Well, I did. I mean, I’ve wanted to. I just… you’ve already said no. Several times. So I suppose I got my answer, and that’s that.”

“Well, I didn’t think you saw me that way. You’ve never asked before. Is this, like, a pity thing?”

“Fuck no!” he blurts too quickly. “I mean, no. 'Course not. And you’ve never mentioned it before either, by the way. You’re always going on all these fucking dates. When was I supposed to ask? Between Fast-forward Frank and that fucking woman obsessed with her pet ferret?”

You blink, puzzled. “I mean… if you asked, I wouldn’t have gone on dates with Ferret Fiona.”

He throws his hands up in the air. “Now she fucking tells me.”

You don’t like the implication that you’ve been the one holding him back. “Well, it’s not like you’ve ever tried, is it? I mean, I’ve been single for years and you’ve never made a move, even before all this online dating palaver! And you’re not exactly easy to read, by the way. You’re always frowning, even when I’m trying to bloody well impress you! What was I supposed to think? That you fancy me when you always look like this?” You moulded your expression into a big, dramatic, brooding glower and hope it encapsulates everything that is Roy.

He crosses his arms over his chest, looking angry now. Proving your point. “Oi! I don’t do that with my lips,” he points out. “And you’re always talking about how badly you want to find someone when I’m sitting right fucking here! That’s mixed signals, mate.”

“It was me hinting! Hoping!” you shout. “I was just waiting for a sign, or something, but you never treated me like anything more than a friend!”

“Because I didn’t want to be like that creepy Allen bloke you dated last year! He was your friend too, if I recall!”

You sigh, realising the conversation is going in circles. You look at him. He looks at you. Both of you are breathless, wild-eyed, rosy-cheeked, and you know you’ll always remember the way he looks, standing in your kitchen, infuriated and perhaps more open than ever before, because you see it now; that dark look in his eyes was never a guard, never a sign of being just friends. It was want, need.

It was everything you already feel.

“Why are you two arguing?” a meek voice interrupts. You both look to the door to find the girls hovering in the hallway.

“We’re not arguing,” you assure quickly.

“It’s adult stuff,” says Roy at the same time.

“We don’t like it when you argue,” Maisie says. “Especially when you’re supposed to get married.”

“What?” you question sharply, turning red all over again.

Phoebe nods as though corroborating Maisie’s story. “We’ve planned it all. It will be next June at McDonald’s, and Uncle Roy will bring you flowers, and we’ll all have milkshakes afterwards.”

You put your head in your hands, peeking through your fingers and surprised to find that Roy is smirking. “Sounds like a shit wedding, Pheebs. Where’ve you got this idea from?” he says.

“Well, Mum said you two will end up together because you clearly fancy Y/N and it is invevitable.”

A laugh bubbles in your own throat at her attempt to say inevitable, though you’re still too stunned to speak.

“See?” Roy whispers. “Everyone else knew. It's fucking invevitable.”

You shiver, lowering your hands to meet his gaze properly. It’s soft and intent, nothing like the anger of a moment ago.

“All right, girls,” you say. “Get your pyjamas on. We’ll be up to say nanight in a minute.”

You usher them away, closing the door to when you hear their footsteps on the stairs. You’ve never been more aware of his presence, the fact it’s just the two of you — you don’t even know who you are without the kids jumping about, sticking their noses in.

“Have I fucked it all up?” he asks finally.

“No. Have I?”

He shakes his head.

“Then what now?” you question. “What does this… mean?”

“Well…” He leans against the counter, fidgety as he smiles again. “I’ll take you on a decent fucking date for starters. No kids, and no more of whatever the fuck this argument was.”

The thought leaves you feeling cracked and seeping with excitement, though you try to play it cool. “Okay. That’s a good plan.”

“Right. Good. Then… are you free Friday night?”

You inch closer to him, timid suddenly. “I don’t know. My usual babysitter is busy.”

He rolls his eyes and tugs you toward him so that your torsos collide, and then his fingers curl around the nape of your neck and you can think of nothing but the way his lips look, and what it must feel like, having them between your thighs, beard grazing your skin.

“You’re an idiot,” he rasps.

“Takes one to know one.” You lick your lips, then his mouth his on yours, rough and ready and desperate. You let him in, let his tongue explore your mouth. You know you shouldn’t. The girls might come back in, might already be listening, but you’ve wanted this for so long.

You both have.

You’re breathless when he stops, his hands lingering just above your belly as he bites down on a groan. “If I don’t stop now, there’ll be trouble.”

You’re not willing to let go, though, and you rest your hands on his chest as you kiss his jaw. “And?”

“And I’ve waited a long fucking time to do this properly. Give you the care,” he kisses your nose, “you deserve. Sweep you,” another kiss, this time at the outer corner of your eye, “off your fucking feet. So I’m going to.” He steps away. “Friday. Seven. Find a new babysitter, and make sure they’re free all night.”

With that, he steps away, leaving you wanting more.

“Uncle Royyyyy!” Phoebe is calling. “Will you read us a story?”

He grins, kisses your forehead, and then is gone. You’re not sure your knees will hold you up if you follow, but you listen to him talking to the girls, making them laugh, and you have never felt more right, more complete.

You’re a fool for thinking anyone else could be perfect for you when the man you love has been here all along.

1K notes · View notes

honeydewsblue · 10 months ago

Text

april 2005

prelude ; second & first impressions

gojo satoru has the skies and ocean in his eyes—the heavens and the earth. the light and clouds and seas, everything and the void, they all show themselves in the celestite carved and polished to make up his iris. he has that impossible hue the gods mixed themselves with sanctity and their creation. nothing less for their little god. nothing more in fear that he will reach too close. you hear he’s getting real close to it, though—to godhood.

a god amongst men, and he’s only fifteen.

that is your second-hand impression of him.

your first-hand impression: he is a fucking dick, and whatever religious symbolism the color of his eyes hold means jack shit to you. they’re all too complicated and controversial on their own, anyway.

he is a god, he is holy, he is responsible (ha!). that’s what white and blue say he is.

when he walks into class on the first day, well over 45 minutes late and acting like he owns the whole damn school, you know you’ve both been lied to and given a plain, distasteful truth. he is not holy, but he’s the closest thing to a god on earth. if his ego is anything to go by.

it takes all of 5 minutes for a fight to break out between him and the only other special grade in class. you share a look with ieiri, who’s already pulled her phone out.

geto suguru and gojo satoru are both given detention for the rest of the day.

the next day, he barely regards you. you hear him get scolded by geto, something about his manners, and you subtly scoot away in case of emergency. to your surprise, all you hear is a scoff and in place of a brawl, there is banter. the scolding doesn’t do much. he doesn’t deign to apologize to you. you could care less—he doesn’t owe you any attention.

it’s when he calls you weak during a mission that ticks you off.

the next couple of weeks go like that. he ignores you and only acknowledges you to dig at your strength. you think he forgets you exist at any other time; out of sight out of mind. so much for having all encompassing eyes.

to you, he is arrogant, and he is egotistical, and he is god-awful.

being a god amongst men must do that to a person. when you are truly, undeniably above all others, it’s almost reasonable to be all those things: egotistical, arrogant, and god-awful. it’s all he’d known.

his title—young master, the boy-god, the strongest, et cetera, ad nauseam—demands the worship of his subordinates without him having to say a word. worship feeds into ego, and he’s been worshipped since the day he was born.

people have hated him since the day he was born, too. they’ve wanted to knock him right off the stairs of heaven he was born climbing up. bounties and assassination attempts have been tacked on his head ever since the world tipped on it’s axis.

gojo satoru has it all, silver spoon fed to him and served on a shining silver platter. there are people hungry for his head to drop clean onto it with a matching silver blade.

godhood doesn’t mix well with man. people are not meant to be as benevolent, as selfless as their deities are. they aren’t capable of it. that’s why they pray.

it’s all bull. gojo is the closest thing to a god and the farthest thing from a man. he is a teenage boy.

#𐙚 ˖ ◜ ꒰ glimpses of life ꒱#jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #my writing ණ⃛(ᵒ͈̑ᴗ̂ᵒ͈̑ )

156 notes · View notes

sunlightmurdock · 7 months ago

Text

AETERNA | Prologue

SYNOPSIS: WHAT’S THE USE IN MAKING PLANS? IT’S ALL INEVITABLE ANYWAY.

WORD COUNT: 2550

MASTERLIST

MOODBOARD

PLAYLIST

quick lil a/n: this isn’t an OC fic, audrey will just be a recurring character who is mentioned through the fic and this spooky lil prologue is her origin story I guess 🫶 we meet reader in chapter 1

…

Audrey Weiss began her last morning the way that most people do: unknowingly. Unknowing in the sense that it was the last time she would bark at her sister to get out of the bathroom, or sigh too loudly when her mother asked her to take the trash out.

Mere weeks from graduation, her focus should have been college in the fall and summer trips and prom. Instead, she was thinking much shorter term — simply of her plans for that evening.

She had ducked out of her parents’ three-bed ranch style in the middle of Saturday morning breakfast, headed for the indubitably more important venture of tackling La Mesa Shopping Mall with her best friend, Suzie Clarke. Once Girl Scouts together, Audrey and Susanne were attached at the hip even now that they were all grown.

Suzie Clarke was the first person the police would speak to the next day, after Audrey was reported missing.

Exactly three weeks and four days from her high school graduation, big things were on the horizon for Audrey. She had been accepted into some pretty good schools for that fall, but her pick was Mount Holyoke — she was going to be a lawyer.

At the mall, she had found the most gorgeous jumpsuit. A peach color that made her brown hair look like pure silk with a crochet floral middle and bell bottoms that made her legs look a mile long. Something awful grown-up for a girl like Audie, but that was the point.

Then, back home, she had considered leaving her large, round wire-framed glasses on their vanity. They made her eyes look ten times bigger and unnatural, and her mouth look small — but she probably wouldn’t look too stellar if she couldn’t see either. These opinions were her own, formed by middle school boys from years passed.

To her baby sister, her glasses made Audie look awfully smart. There’s an old People magazine in their mother’s dresser that shows Barbara Streisand in a dark-framed pair of eyeglasses; Audie could look just like that if she combed her hair a bit.

To make matters worse after deciding that her glasses would make the cut, before she could make it to the safety of Stacy’s car, Audie’s mother had forced a denim jacket over her shoulders and told her to mind the weather. Like it was ever that cold around there.

Still, Audrey’s confidence was unwavered. She looked dynamite in her new jumpsuit, and four weeks into the long stretch that eighteen years old was supposed to be, she looked grown-up for the very first time, even with the glasses.

For the sixth time since March Third, 1977, Audrey Weiss bought a ticket and visited the circus on the outskirts of her hometown.

Santa Paloma, Arizona, was a safe place and only a stone’s throw from Phoenix. It had a movie theater and a couple of arcades, plenty of playgrounds, and a roller rink. Still, Audrey wasn’t interested in hanging out at any of those places.

No, she had her sights set bigger. Older. She wanted more than the other girls her age. Maybe if the boys her age had been kinder, this wouldn’t have been the case.

That’s why she was here, and why this sixth visit was going to be special; she had met a guy. In her killer new jumpsuit, with her hair done like Farah Fawcett, and her Mom’s lipstick coating her lips — her mind was all made up, tonight was the night that she was going to make her move.

Restless in every sense of the word, Audrey had lept out from the backseat of Stacy’s bubblegum blue MGB roadster first, her heart aflutter and her friends in tow. The late April sky was ablaze, orange and pink. It was quite the send off.

Children laughing and screaming, Audrey knew her way around the circus attractions well by now. She bid her friends goodbye with knowingly exchanged giggles, and started to walk. They had discussed Audrey’s plan in great detail by the point of its execution.

Brown leather sandals, barely leaving footprints across red dirt; she was gentle like that. Neon lights surrounding her, she passes by the carousel where she had first seen the man of her dreams for the last time. Its chimes sing her a goodbye as she disappears deeper into the Friday night bustle.

Eager, grinning faces surround her in a blur as Audrey strolls down the midway. A nervous, fast-feeling energy buzzes through her trembling limbs. The ring toss to her right, the shooting game to her left, her sights set straight ahead.

She had been too nervous to pick at the meatloaf her mother had made, and the air had smelled of warm popcorn and sugar. Her stomach growled, leaving no room for butterflies.

Amidst the epic orange and pink, the sky threatened to grow dark behind the looming, spinning ferris wheel.

Audrey left behind the painted faces and the smiles, the smell of sugar and the sound of shrieking laughter. Echoes of the excitement rang out behind her as she left it all behind. Her destination was beyond the fair, behind one of the big, red and white glossed storage trucks. Even in her killer new jumpsuit, Audrey had gone unnoticed.

One confident foot in front of the other, she squared her shoulders like the older girls do and kicked through that soft red dirt. Weaving between caravans, campers and trailers, restlessly brushing her hair back off of her shoulders and bringing it back in place.

A familiar whistled tune guided her where she intended to go.

Jake can usually be found whistling an Elvis tune.

His shirt slung over his shoulder, he passed between the lodgings coolly, headed to his camper to prepare for the show. Maybe he heard her coming, maybe he saw her feet under the caravans. By the time Audrey had rounded the corner, he had stopped and was staring at her.

He animated again, after a moment of static.

Jake was the star of the show, and to Audrey Weiss on that night in particular, he was just about the center of the universe. Tall, and gorgeous, with a strong jaw and a long, straight nose. Blond hair and golden skin, and green eyes. Muscles like something out of a comic book.

And despite being all of those things, Jake was nice, too.

“Hey, Aud-Ball.” Like odd-ball. But his way of teasing her wasn’t cruel like everyone else’s. He shot her a cool grin, his broad shoulders making his white tank stretch taught as he passed by her with no intention of stopping for a chat; again, in the kindest way. “You lost?”

This was far from their first conversation, but it was the first time she had gotten brave like this. There are signs all over the place saying staff quarters are off limits. She shouldn’t have been back there. She should have waited until after the show — Jake always came out to hang out front after the show was done, she could have found him then.

“No,” She wavered. A pit in her stomach and a lump in her throat, she looked down at the dirt and her glasses slipped a bit on the bridge of her nose. “I… wanted to see you.”

Jake can be real friendly. Too friendly, if you were to ask some of the folks around camp. Too friendly with ladies sometimes, too. That’s not what this was. When Audrey showed up for the second weekend, after Jake had complimented her glasses and told her she was funny — he had known she needed a friend. That’s all.

He played dumb.

“What for?” He stopped by the door of his trailer and took a moment to look at her. A slight heel to her sandals, a brand-new outfit, and magazine-worthy hair. He knew exactly what for.

She kicked and toed at the dirt, her eyes on the ground in a sheepish manner that tarnished all that work she had put into looking grown-up. “… I dunno.”

He looked behind her, and then around the two of them. The bustle of the fair sounded so far away. His grin settled into something friendly, but detached. The kind of look you get from a waiter when it comes time to decide on how much to tip.

“You lose your friends?” She never came alone. She had come with her parents that first weekend. She had looked so sad.

“No.” In her kicking and toeing at the ground, Audrey had wandered a bit closer to him. Close enough that he could smell her mother’s perfume on her neck, because she thought it was more mature than her own.

He took his shirt from his shoulder and wrung it in his hands, bootprints in the mud as he put some distance between the two of them. “Look, you know you’re not supposed to be back here. House rules.”

She looked up at him through those big glasses.

“Well, I mean—“

“Really. You should go.” He said more firmly. He was looking at her differently. The kindness in his eyes was gone and all that’s there was pity. In an instant, Audrey Weiss is crushed.

This wasn’t the first time she had been hurt by a boy. She had a tendency to read too much into things, to want things too much. There was a boy in ninth grade, he hadn’t ever liked her — she had convinced herself that he did. She had been so humiliated.

Jake watched her face crumple completely before him, and he was reminded of exactly what he saw in her that first weekend. A scared little girl with a heart full of sadness. He looked to the ground, feeling like he had knocked her to the dirt himself. She did look sweet in her new get-up.

“I’ll find you after the show.” Jake had offered.

Dejected, Audrey fiddled with the leg seam of her jumpsuit. She looked at the ground, and despite having no children, Jake got a glimpse at what it might look like if he had one to scold. She nodded her head weakly.

His lips twitched, his smile almost apologetic as he tapped at the side of his trailer and swung one foot in. “Alright.”

She presses her lips taut, staring at the indent she had toed into the dirt.

Jake hesitated by the door. He couldn’t stand the thought of letting her go, looking so sad. “Thanks for stoppin’ by— your hair looks killer, Audie.”

And so, Audrey had sulked back through the site and found her friends. With her being back so soon, and looking so cheesed — they hadn’t asked questions. They had bought her a coke, and taken their seats inside of the Big Top.

He said he would find her after, but to a girl like Audrey, that could mean a lot of things. Most of them were not good. As the lights dimmed and the familiar introductory drumbeat rattled out, Audrey just wanted to go home.

As he had five times before, the ringmaster burst out into the center of the area and threw his arms into the air, starting the evening with his usual speech. Audrey sipped sadly at her Coca-Cola from the stands. Jake comes on second for the first part of his act, right behind the ringmaster.

Audrey knew his routine like the back of her hand. Once again, she was not picked to be his assistant. As always, he was incredible.

At 9pm, the show had finished and the crowds were filing out. The fairground was even more abuzz than it had been earlier, the sky was a deep indigo, and Audrey really wasn’t in the mood to listen to Jake tell her that she just wasn’t his type. She wanted to be, so badly.

”I’ll pull the car around.” Stacy had told her saddened friend, already thinking that they could stop for milkshakes on the way home to cheer her up. Audrey had nodded absently, wondering where Jake had planned to find her.

“Come on, watch me hook a duck. I’ll win you something.” Suzie was Audrey’s best friend for a reason, after all. She looped her arm through Audrey’s and led her over to the attraction. She had just let go for a second, to take the pole from the attendant.

Audrey had just looked away for a moment. Well, maybe a few moments. It hadn’t felt like very long.

She stared across the sea of people, finding him in the spaces between. His eyes were settled right on hers, green and as kind as they always had been.

Standing over by the house of mirrors, Jake was wearing the same clothes he had been earlier, his shirt discarded over his right shoulder and his white tank stretched across his chest. He had gotten changed out of his show clothes quickly. Maybe he was excited to see her.

She bit at the inside of her cheek, nervous tingles making her fidget on her feet.

He straightened up, and cocked his head sharply to the side. The right side of his mouth tugged toward his ear like something was funny. He untucked his hand from his pocket, and pushed away from the support beam.

There was no goodbye, no ‘I’ll be back in a second’ — the plan was clear — Audrey hadn’t felt the need to waste time bringing her friends up to speed, that could be done in the morning. Light-footed, her brown sandals barely marked the soft dirt beneath her feet.

He had turned and reached for the door, watching her over his shoulder. Her eyes scanned across the neon red signage above him as he disappeared into the Hall of Mirrors. The door fell shut behind him.

Audrey’s heartbeat hammered like a snare drum. Her entire nervous system could keep easy pace with a Lynyrd Skynyrd record. Her dad loved those guys.

The sky darkened behind her, the metal handle cold under her palm as she opened up the door. She leaned inside, and peered around, half-way inside. “Jake?”

The halls between all the mirrors had to be lit somehow, and someone chose blood-red bulbs. Darkness in the corners of the reflections, red illuminations right through the center. Audrey took one sure-footed step inside, her mouth twitching toward a nervous smile.

She let go of her breath and smiled. Sticking her fingers out, she touched her own reflection right in front of her. Filtered red, she looked so different. Her hair really did look killer. Her glasses hadn’t ever looked that awful. She trailed her hand softly along the glass as a marker, following the whistle tune.

Butterflies tickled her tummy. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and let the door fall shut behind her, her second step less-certain. “Jake, are you in here?”

Of course he was, she had just seen him walk right in. To banish her doubts further, a whistle rings out from deeper within the maze. Unmistakably the first eight notes of Elvis’ I’ll Never Fall in Love Again — the song Audrey listened to in her bedroom when she thought of him. How incredible, that he had picked that song.

She bit at her bottom lip to keep from smiling, and called out one last time. “Jake?”

NEXT CHAPTER

TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT

tags: @sunflowercharlie13 @spinning-away @eloquentdreamer @a-reader-and-a-writer @breezyweazybeezy @mel119g @blaircharlotte @hersuitisbanana @aragorn-02 @one-sweet-gubler @chrysalismuh @xzyzycxdd @atarmychick007 @ximehs @ah9242 @gleefulleve @nnatel @topherwrites @princesskreator @seitmai @d0main-expansion @yepyeahuhhuh @cherrycola27 @ohtobeleah @roosterbruiser

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake seresin #miles teller #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster bradshaw imagine #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #jake hangman seresin #Jake hangman seresin x reader #Jake seresin x reader #Jake seresin au #top gun: maverick au #bradley bradshaw au #aeterna #aeterna: updates

86 notes · View notes

gurugirl · 5 months ago

Note

Hellooo! I know this is awful, I'm so sorry!!! But I haven't been on here in forever and I'm so sorry for asking but I really wanna read the last stuff you've read in like the last two months BC I haven't been on here but I can't find what that would be? Could you maybe link it for me? I'm so sorry for asking!!!!!!!!!!! Xxxxxxx

Hi hon! Welcome back 😘

So I am posting links to everything I’ve posted since late April to catch you up 🥰

In no particular order…

The Arrangement check-in

Best friends dad check-in

Dom daddy!harry one shot

The trio one shot (pride day mmf threesome)

Baby Daddy one shot (friends to lovers to parents)

Little Flower one shot (stalker Harry)

The Handyman one shot (strangers to lovers) with a check-in

Sex Tutor (2 parts - college au)

Breeding kink blurb

Enjoy 🥰🥰

Xoxo

#ask

49 notes · View notes

boybeholding · 1 year ago

Note

I can barely find any mutant mayhem Donnie x male reader fics so I was wondering if you could write one please I'll give you this 🍕 as a sign of my gratitude

I GOTCHU ANON (cracks knuckles) keep that pizza in the microwave for me. decided to write it paralleling them meeting april because I think any of these four being clumsy and flustered is cute. I'm still testing out formatting for requests and such so let me know if you guys have any feedback <3 not sure how i feel about the fic itself buuut... i think it's certainly done.

╭────────────.★..─╮ Blood in the water. ╰─..★.────────────╯

Mutant Mayhem; Donatello / Male!Reader Word Count: 1,560 Content Warnings: swearing, maybe internalized homophobia if you squint? but that wasn't the intention as I was writing it. Summary; After a head-on collision in the hallway, Donnie meets the boy of his dreams. Now all he has to do is keep his brothers from finding out about him.

“Sooo… Leo… how’d that date with April go?”

The banter as the four of them walked home carried on as it always has, the only difference being that they finally had some new material. It’d been months since they’d integrated at Eastman high, and things were still running smooth as ever. It was perfect!

Sure, maybe not everyone was so accepting, but when the four of them were expecting screams of horror and violent brutality from the humans, they could tolerate some sour glances and rude comments.

“Mikey how many times do I have to TELL you guys, it- it wasn’t a date!”

“Uhh, you don’t have to tell us that,” Raph shot back. “We aaall heard her at Prom-”

Dialogue quickly overlapped as the three of them verbally dogpiled onto Leo, who was struggling to cut through the crosstalk.

“Well- hey, y’know– I can’t be the ONLY one who’s got a… well, a crush. C’mon! You gotta cut me some slack.”

“Even if we did,” interjected Donnie, “we’d do a waaaay better job of hiding it than you!”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Donnie now realized the irony in that sequence of events, looking back to the morning that had followed that conversation.

See, despite months of attending a crowded high school, Donnie hadn’t really taken the time to unlearn his habit of walking with his headphones on and his eyes closed. Really because it hadn’t resulted in any major tragedies up until then.

He’d walked to first period so many times he could do it backwards, but as he cracked an eye open to gauge his turn into the classroom, he realized far too late that he’d… miscalculated.

He tried to move back- to reorient himself, but the flow of movement in the hall behind him pushed him forward, and he collided hard with…

With…

Oh.

Time slowed down to a crawl as you were slammed against the locker, a moment passing as you recovered from the blow before you’d twisted around. Donnie had almost forgotten the circumstances that had led him here when he was forced against your chest instead of your back, looking up and seeing your face.

Maybe it came as no surprise that Donnie had a bit of a weakness for cute boys. His brothers hadn’t caught on yet, but if you took a scrutinizing glance at his interests, you may notice the consistency. And currently, he was literally being smushed against the cutest guy he’d ever seen in real life, much like you mash two dolls together to indicate that they’re kissing.

The awe he felt, though, was only a brief respite from the panic as he saw that your nose was bleeding.

“Ohhhh my gosh, I’m so sorry! It– it was the kid behind me, and I, My uh, my shell is making it– hard to get out, and-”

“Ugh- dude.” You grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him back a bit, causing Donnie to realize that the hall was mostly empty now.

You rubbed your head with a small wince, and were clearly about to turn and carry on with your business.

“WAIT!” You turned back, raising a brow, and Donatello tensed at the realization of how loud he’d just shouted.

“Can I at least walk you to the nurse’s office? I’m really sorry.” Wiping the blood away with your thumb (which was like, anime boy levels of hot, Donnie thought privately), you shrugged and gestured for him to follow.

He did. Naturally.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Donnie didn’t know why he and his brothers kept meeting their love interests through near major accidents, but that collision was the start of something fantastic.

He learned that day that your name was (y/n), and from then on just kept learning more and more phenomenal things about you. Another month seemed to fly by, with the two of you becoming fast friends. Not all of your interests overlapped, but as Donnie learned more of what you liked, the more it became what he liked too.

There was just one small hiccup.

Donatello… really didn’t want his brothers to find out about you. As well as he’d managed to pretend not to be crushing on you big time, his brothers were like sharks when it came to that sort of thing. If they didn’t know he liked guys before, he was convinced they’d be able to tell just by your presence - like you were blood in the water.

It was going smoothly enough so far, though. The only class you shared was Computer Science, and, well... Let's just say Donnie's brothers weren't exactly jumping at the chance to sign up for that elective.

As he left the building that day to meet his brothers in his usual spot, He found himself once again glued to his phone, takking away at your DMs.

"Ack-!" "Aah!!"

Donnie reared back from the minor bump, flushing a little as he glanced up.

"Dude, you ever gonna stop bumping into me?"

"Uhh... nah. Too much work. Not my fault you're always standing right in my way." He responded, smiling when that earned him a chuckle. "What're you doing out here anyways? Don't you usually take the bus?"

"Yeah, but I've gotta stop by the store on my way home, so I'm walking. Don't you and your brothers usually walk home together? I could tag along."

"Uh."

Fuck.

"Well. Yeahh.. We do. But, we kind of.. Live in the sewer?"

"...Yeah? I remember. I'd only walk part-ways."

"Right, well, uh... I mean-"

"DONNIE!" Raph grabbed both his shoulders from behind, startling a yelp out of him as he whipped around.

"Oh, uh-- Hey guys!"

"What gives? We've been waiting at the spot for like.." Mikey glances at his phone, "..Well, only like three minutes, but you're usually there first."

"Guys, chill out, I told you he was probably just leaving class with someone else."

"Yup mystery solved-- bye (y/n), let's go guys!!"

Wrong move. Donnie could feel he'd messed up when all three of his brothers turned their heads to him.

Blood in the water.

"Woooah, chill out bro, we're not in a rush. So you're (y/n)? I don't think we've met." Mikey turned to you.

You nodded, "In the flesh. And you're... Mikey, Raph, and Leo?" You pointed to each of them as you recalled their names. "I was just asking if I could walk with you guys."

"Hah- well- I don't think we--" "Oh, totally!" "Yeah man, feel free!"

"I'm sure Donnie would love that,"

Donnie exchanged glares with each of his brothers, huffing before pulling up a reluctant smile.

"Yeah, uh.. what they said!"

"Awesome!"

And so you tagged along as they began walking. It wasn't all bad, Donnie just had to keep his cool and remain nonchalant. Shouldn't be too hard.

"So, we still on for tonight?" You asked, bumping your shoulder against Donnie's.

"Duh- Especially since it's my turn to pick."

"I am not watching One Piece, just FYI."

"You two got a nerd date or something?" Raph interjected. Donnie frowned at him, feeling his fists ball up, but was surprised to hear you laugh easily.

"Kind of. It's a cultural exchange." With one hand gesturing as you speak, the other sneaks its way around Donnie's arm.

Kind of? It was kind of a date? and you were holding his arm??

Donnie glanced down at where you'd held onto him, before his eyes narrowed in a smug glance in Raph's direction. His brother, on the other hand, had his mouth hanging slightly open; his brows furrowed down.

Donnie ran his lip between his teeth before he adjusted his arm, sliding his hand down into yours. It felt.. right. He brushed along your knuckles, how small each of them were under his three-fingered hands- and his heart threatened to melt when you squeezed in return. The dialogue that continued between you and his brothers faded to white noise at that feeling.

"Alright, this is where I've gotta part ways. It was nice meeting you all!"

You leaned down, pressing a quick peck into Donnie's cheek.

"see you tonight!"

You were gone before Donnie could even process what'd happen, an incoherent exhale of noise escaping him as his brothers began hollering.

"WOAH WOAH WOAH. DONNIE?? IS HE YOUR BOYFRIEND??" "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL US??"

Donnie's brain kicked into action finally, looking away with a rub to the back of his neck.

"I ahh..... y'know, we're not really sure yet?- kind of uhh.... testing the waters and stuff..?" He lied, shooting a glance over his shoulder to assure you weren't in earshot.

"Dang, you really DO have some rizz after all!"

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

(y/n) today at 5:14 all good to have you over for the night!

TELLO 🧠💪 today at 5:15 cool cool! so uh... can i ask what the smooch was about earlier??

(y/n) today at 5:18 oh, yeah, sorry!! i just noticed your brothers were teasing you about me figured i'd lean into it & get them to back off lol see you in ten?

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Donatello huffed, staring at that message for a long few minutes. Well, that TOTALLY answered his question.

Not.

But.. At least he'd learned that you apparently weren't opposed to holding his hand and kissing his cheek. Even if it was something of a performance.

Maybe tonight, he could get a private show.

There was only one way to find out.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

TELLO 🧠💪 today at 5:22 yup! on my way

#mutant mayhem x reader #donatello x reader #tmnt x reader #tmnt #mutant mayhem #mm donnie #mm leo #mm raph #mm mikey #mm donnie x reader #donnie x reader #tmnt imagines #tmnt fic #i need a writing tag

188 notes · View notes

iloveelvisss · 9 days ago

Text

Loving You (Elvis fic)

Pairing: 50s!Elvis x Reader

Warnings/Triggers: sickness, references to the colonel

The year was 1956. Late April, Elvis had made his Las Vegas debute just days before. He was booked to play here for two weeks. The only downside was that he was exhausted, he had performed so much in the days before that it was actually concerning.

You had been with Elvis on a romantic basis since early December, but had met him when he performed on the Louisiana Hayride.

He did something he never did with any of his girlfriends before and brought you along with him to Las Vegas.

Now here you were, in the crowd as you watched him sing Baby, Let's Play House. He was supposed to sing Heartbreak Hotel next, but instead he said thank you to all his fans and walked off stage.

You knew this wasn't right. You had been with him the night before as he and the Colonel discussed the layout for tonight's performance. As everyone simultaneously let out a long chorus of 'boos' you secretly made your way backstage.

The Colonel and you never got along all that well. There was just something about him that you couldn't pinpoint, but it gave you slight goosebumps.

You took the long way to Elvis' dressing room, as to avoid the Colonel. You sighed in relief when you made it to the door without any encounters with the strange man.

Light creeped out from under the closed door. The tiny chalkboard on the back read, Elvis Presley. You gave a soft knock on the door before gently opening it. In the reflection of the large mirror you saw Elvis laying on the sofa, his head in his hands while his body curled into a ball.

"Elvis?" You said quietly. "Are you alright baby?" You took small steps toward him, aware of the sudden outbursts of anger he had. There had been many times that the two of you shared screaming matches, resulting from your equally stubborn attitude.

His head turned towards you as his fluttered open. He looked miserable, beautiful, but miserable. Then out of nowhere he outstretched his arms, gesturing for you to lay down with him. You complied.

You were facing each other. He was holding you to him. "What's wrong E? You don't look so good right now." You kissed his forehead. "Are ya sick?" That was the only thought that crossed you mind.

He nodded, tightening his grip. "I feel awful as I'll get out, Y/N." That's when you heard how hoarse his voice sounded. "Oh honey, what can I do?" You asked, desperate to help in any way you could.

"Just stay here, and let me hold ya. You're my favorite thing to hold." With that he dug his face into the crook of you neck. You felt his eyes close again as he yawned quietly.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him as he tried to sleep. "The Colonel's gonna kill me." He said without moving, his voice coming out in a mumble from your hair.

"Shh, Elvis. He can deal with it for now." You whispered. "You need sleep, and comfort baby." You ran your fingers through his black hair.

After a few minutes Elvis' breathing became even, and you could hear little snores erupting out of him. You smiled small, never letting your fingers leave his hair. You pecked the top of his head with a kiss. "I love you." You whispered in a barely audible voice.

Another one from Wattpad 2022. Probably not good, but I hope you enjoy anyway? Much love😋

#70s #elvis fic #elvis presley #elvisaaronpresley #vintage #elvis fans #elvis the pelvis #elvis x reader #elvis x y/n #fanfic #50s elvis #70s elvis #60s elvis #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfiction

46 notes · View notes

lonestarflight · 10 months ago

Text

The Ingenuity Rover's Helicopter, nicknamed Ginny, is broken and alone

"In this most recent photo of Ingenuity, the dual-rotor 'copter can be seen motionless on a sandy dune in the background, as a barren, rocky Mars landscape fills the foreground.

The photo was taken on Feb. 4, 2024, at 1:05 p.m. local mean solar time, a little over two weeks since it suffered its mission-ending damage.

NASA and JPL's Ingenuity helicopter on the surface of Mars as seen by the Perseverance rover's Mastcam-Z camera on Feb. 4, 2024.

Ingenuity suffered damage to its rotors during a flight on Jan. 18 as it made a landing on a featureless, "bland" patch of sandy Martian landscape. The helicopter usually makes use of landscape features such as rocks to help it navigate, but its 72nd flight found the drone without visual cues.

The Jet Propulsion Laboratory (JPL) is still analyzing the damage to Ingenuity's blades, but regardless of what JPL finds, the helicopter's mission has officially come to an end now that it's no longer capable of flight.

Ingenuity landed alongside its robotic companion, the Perseverance rover, on Feb. 18, 2021. When it took to the Martian skies in April 2021, Ingenuity made history by conducting the first flight of a powered aircraft on another planet.

The Ingenuity-Perseverance duo has been exploring an area known as Jezero Crater ever since, discovering signs of ancient bodies of water on the Red Planet that may have once harbored life billions of years ago. Ingenuity served as a scout for Perseverance, identifying areas of interest for the rover to explore.

In recent weeks as NASA and JPL have been coming to terms with the end of Ingenuity's groundbreaking mission, agency leaders have praised the helicopter and the teams behind it.

'We couldn't be prouder or happier with how our little baby has done,' said Teddy Tzanetos, Ingenuity Project Manager at JPL, during a livestreamed tribute to the helicopter on Jan. 31. 'It's been the mission of a lifetime for all of us. And I wanted to say thank you to all of the people here that gave their weekends, their late nights. All the engineers, the aerodynamic scientists, the technicians who hand-crafted this aircraft.'

Tiffany Morgan, NASA's Mars Exploration Program Deputy Director, added that Ingenuity leaves behind a legacy that could pave the way for future aerial missions on other worlds.

This image, which shows the shadow of a damaged rotor on NASA's Mars helicopter Ingenuity, was taken after its 72nd and final flight on Jan. 18, 2024 on the Red Planet.

'The NASA JPL team didn't just demonstrate the technology, they demonstrated an approach that if we use in the future will really help us to explore other planets and be as awe-inspiring, as amazing, as Ingenuity has been,' Morgan said during the livestream.

NASA is already developing another drone destined for another world, the nuclear-powered Dragonfly, to someday explore Saturn's largest moon, Titan. The agency expects Dragonfly to launch no earlier than 2028."

#Ingenuity #Ingenuity Rover #ingenuity helicopter #Ginny #Helicopter #Mars Helicopter #Mars Rover #Rover #Mars #NASA #JPL #February #2024 #my post

102 notes · View notes

phoebepheebsphibs · 3 months ago

Text

Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 47/Epilogue: Mikey Done Good

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

It has been a month since Mikey's second rescue from the TCRI.

The lair is bright again. There is laughter again. Everyone smiles and jokes and has fun again.

It's a home again.

Casey Jones Jr. smiles as he works to tidy up the lair, moving the empty and flattened cardboard boxes over to a side tunnel so they can be placed in a dumpster later. Usually, none of them mind the clutter or the mess from moving, but they're having guests over tonight and Casey wants to make a good impression.

Speaking of, CJ gets a notif from the security system that April has arrived. She waltzes in moment later, smiling brightly.

"Whattup, family!" she yells loudly, announcing her arrival to all who didn't get the notification. "It's your favourite person! Apriiiiiiiiiiiiil O'Neil!!"

CJ rolls his eyes as Donatello and S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.2.0 come out to greet her.

"Hey, April!" Donnie responds, quickly fistbumping her in greeting. "How was class?"

"Pretty good. My report got an A, so I'd think I'm a shoo-in for the competitive writing finals this year. I heard the winners get to intern for Channel 6!"

Donnie rolls his eyes and smiles.

"You always did like the news."

"Congrats, bromigo!" S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.2.0 cheers, activating a few streamers and confetti, much to Casey's annoyance at having to clean the hall again.

"Where's everybody else?" April asks, glancing up and down the halls.

"Raph is still getting the dining room set up," Donnie says. "And Mikey's making dinner."

"Mikey is?" April asks, eyes wide, yet nowhere near as wide as her smile. "He's cooking again?"

"We've been practicing a few recipes," Casey announces proudly. "He felt confident enough to try making some of the food tonight."

"Lemme guess... pizza?" April chuckles as she follows the others into the living room to help Raphael set up. "I can't wait for another Mikey original! So, is everybody coming tonight?"

"My mom said she'll be here in a bit," Casey answers as he starts wiping down the table for the fourth time. "Agent Bishop and Honeycutt will be arriving within the next fifteen minutes, I think."

"Pops and Draxum are still waiting for Leo to wrap up his appointment. They're cuttin' it close, but Leo promised to be on time," Raph says as he carries a stack of plates into the room. "Which means he'll be fashionably late again."

Donnie sneers.

"You'd think a guy who can make portals to any place on earth would understand how to be punctual."

"I still can't believe it's been a month," April awes. "Everything flew by so fast!"

"And it doesn't help that the one day at the TCRI felt like a whole week," Raph groans. "Hey, who's in charge of silverware?"

"I got it," Casey offers, running into the kitchen and returning a moment later with the cutlery. "So, Mikey made pizza, Raph made breadsticks, and I made salad."

"I brought mini shish kabobs and dip," April offers, holding up a tupperware with grilled veggies on skewers.

"Sounds great! Mom mentioned bringing brownies..." Casey recalls, "Bishop and the Professor offered to pick up drinks, and Master Splinter and the Baron said they'd grab some Yokai hors d'oeuvre from the Hidden City vendors. So I think we'll be good!"

The group continue to set up the dinner table just as three more guests enter from the subway tunnel.

"I HAVE ARRIVED!!!" Cassandra yells loudly, waving her hockey stick around like a crazed chimpanzee as she runs.

Cass rushes forwards and wraps her arms around CJ as tightly as she can. He reciprocates with a laugh.

"ᴡᴇ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀʟꜱᴏ ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴇᴅ," Fugitoid remarks as he and Bishop walk in next, "ʙᴜᴛ ᴇʟᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ꜱᴏ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴄᴀʟᴍᴇʀ ᴍᴀɴɴᴇʀ."

"Hey, Professor!" Casey greets with a smile. "You're looking good. New upgrades?"

"ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄɪɴɢ. ᴅᴏɴᴀᴛᴇʟʟᴏ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴇxᴛʀᴇᴍᴇʟʏ ʜᴇʟᴘꜰᴜʟ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ꜰᴇᴡ ᴡᴇᴇᴋꜱ…"

"Anything for a fan of my work," Dee jokes. "And you've brought drinks. Any flavourless juice?"

"Sorry, just sodas," Bishop says, holding up a few grocery bags filled with large liters of name brand seltzers.

"We can't expect you to be perfect all the time," Donnie grumbles.

"Where's Mikey?" Bishop asks.

"If he heard Cass's war cry, then he should be here any second --"

Almost on cue, Mikey comes bounding out of the kitchen at full speed, pouncing at Cass and zipping around her waist and shoulders in excitement like a hyped-up cat. He eventually perches just above her shoulders, chirping excitedly and giving her a noogie. She laughs as she reaches up and pulls him down, matching his energy and nooging him right back.

Mikey laughs before releasing his hold on her and running over to Bishop and Fugitoid, reacting much more calmly and rising to stand on two legs for them.

"Hi, guys!" he says, a smile growing across his doughy and flour-caked face.

"ꜱᴏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ, ᴍɪᴋᴇʏ!" Fugitoid greets. "ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ᴡᴇʟʟ."

"Thanks! I'm all patched up now, see?" Mikey says as he enthusiastically shows off the large scars on his abdomen and neck. "My only complaint is the physical therapy's boring; but it is helping me to get back into my old hobbies!"

"I see you've taken up cooking?" Bishop asks, pulling a small chunk of sticky dough off Mikey's face.

"Oh, yeah. Whoops! I got a little carried away... but the pizza should be done in a while! Just enough time to talk about stuff and wait for the rest to get here! We can catch up!"

"Yeah, how's it going with the whole TCRI business?" Casey asks as he takes the brownies and sodas into the kitchen, the rest following after him and Mikey.

"Going really well," Bishop nods with a smile. "Which is surprising, considering everything. You'd think an evil corporation would try to hide their misdeeds, but what with all the leadership gone, everyone's turning on each other and revealing the truth!"

"Seriously?" Raph asks, eyes wide. "That's awesome!"

"Why haven't we heard anything about it on the news?" April asks.

"I doubt the local police will let any kind of news about a failed government study get in the public eye," Bishop sighs. "But they're handling it pretty well. Most scientists want to plea bargain, and from what I've heard the TCRI will be completely and permanently shut down within the next few days. Not just the sites stationed in NYC, but all over the globe! Then there's proceedings, court hearings, lawsuits from disgruntled employees for harassment, assault, and unfair work environments, just to name a few."

"Sounds like you have your hands full!" April laughs, moving aside as Mikey skirts behind her to retrieve a bottle of tomato sauce for the pizza.

"ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴇ'ʀᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ!" Fugitoid chimes in. "ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴄʀɪ ɪɴ ꜱʜᴀᴍʙʟᴇꜱ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴɪᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇꜱ ɢᴏᴠᴇʀɴᴍᴇɴᴛ ɪꜱ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ!"

"And that's where you two come in, hm?" Donnie asks with a smirk.

"I think it's time we rebuilt the Earth Protection Force from the ground up," Bishop nods. "Make it the way it was supposed to be. Something we can actually rely on."

Mikey smiles brightly at the agent as he shreds the cheese over the pizza dough and tomato paste. Though in his distraction, he accidentally spreads the cheese onto the countertop rather than the pizza itself. He hastily scoops up the cheese and sprinkles it back wherever it looks needed.

"Well, you're perfect for the job!" Casey beams.

"And I know a few girl scouts who would be VERY EXCITED to help!" Cass exclaims, forgetting her inside voice for a moment.

"I'll take that under consideration," Bishop responds with a roll of his eyes. "I could use some extra help. There are a lot of bad guys out there..."

"Speaking of," Raph slides in, clearing his throat. "Any updates on a certain 'you know who' and her location?"

"Abigail Finn is still incognito," Bishop sighs. "Though, Donatello's facial tracking system and security measures have helped us to keep a few tabs on her. But she's staying discreet, keeping a low profile and avoiding anything illegal. Which is good."

"Just give me a reason to annihilate her," Donnie whispers to himself. "Or to at least let me go semi-lethal..."

"Have you made any attempts to arrest her?" Casey asks.

"We... considered it," Bishop sighs. "But we felt that it would be better to let it slide. If we did make any attempts, you can bet she'd try to twist the truth and reveal everything she knows about you guys."

"So essentially, you're at a stalemate," Casey grumbles.

"Pretty much. We know dirt on her, she knows dirt on us. So long as we stay out of each others' ways, we're fine."

"ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʜᴇʀ. ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ? ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ?" Fugitoid asks.

"Mostly helpin' with recovery," Raph answers. "In different ways."

"ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴏᴡ ɪꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇᴄᴏᴠᴇʀʏ ɢᴏɪɴɢ, ᴍɪᴄʜᴇʟᴀɴɢᴇʟᴏ?"

Mikey sighs as he shoves the pizza into the oven. Not a begrudging sigh, but more of a 'where do I start' kind of sigh.

"Well... it's been a lot. First was the whole bedridden thing. Then the physical therapy started. Case was a HUGE help with that, he's an expert on it! And after that... it was a mix of stuff. My memory's gotten better, thanks to Draxum's mystic goop. He said by the rate I'm healing at, all my memories should be back by the end of the month!"

"ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅꜱ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ!" Fugitoid remarks, though the 'mystic goop' comment flies right over his head.

"Yeah... but it's not always easy," Mikey admits. "I have some bad days, a few relapses. Sometimes I still forget names and call one of my brothers by their life-colour instead. Sometimes I talk in the third person instead of the first. Some days I can't talk at all! Walking is... still wacky and tough to get used to. I'm comfortable doing both two legs and four, but I'm faster on four. My vision still acts up, but I've learned to control it a bit better. Dee and I have been training it to shift on command instead of in reaction to light! All in all, adjusting is weird."

"I bet," Bishop nods.

"Wildest thing -- pun intended -- is the whole 'animalistic traits' junk that happens. Like, I still don't get some social cues?" Mikey admits. "Like most people shake hands, but I'll smell or sniff a person first. Most people hug, I climb on them and wrap my whole body around them like a snake. I'll growl if I'm angry. Sometimes I bite when I get startled. Stuff like that."

"Don't forget that one week where you kept making nests all over the lair and storing food in your room," Donnie chimes in.

"I'm just glad you haven't tried to mark your territory or anything," Raph jokes.

Mikey gives him a joking side-glare before continuing.

"Well anyways, it's been weird and confusing but I'm doing a lot better now. I'm really happy again! Which, I'll be honest... surprises me sometimes. The nightmares aren't as constant. They happen, and sometimes I wake up and I don't know where I am. But my family's there to help whenever. I didn't think I'd be this happy this much for a long time... But here we are!"

April starts tearing up out of joy and goes to hug Mikey, who laughs and hugs her back.

"ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴏɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀꜱ ʏᴇᴛ?" Fugitoid wonders.

"One or two," Mikey shrugs. "Though Raph would rather I wait a little longer. I'm kinda glad I kept the mutations, they really help with tracking and stuff -- and the looks on the villains' faces when I start climbing the walls is priceless!" Mikey cackles.

"ᴀɴᴅ… ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴᴛʀᴜꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛꜱ?"

"Not as bad," Mikey explains. "Practically gone. Sure, Instinct pops up every once in a while. He really likes to talk during fights and junk. But Raph's been helping me out with him."

Raphael smiles proudly at the mention.

"Therapy's been good too," Mikey continues. "It helps to just... talk it out with someone."

"You've been doing therapy?" Bishop asks in pleasant surprise. "With who? A human therapist?"

"Actually, there's a Yokai clinic in the Hidden City," Mikey smiles. "Draxum recommended it to Leo, and Leo recommend it to all of us."

"Ohhhh, so is that the appointment Casey mentioned?" April asks.

"Yeah," Mikey says with a grin. "I'm really happy that Leo took the initiative to go, that was huge for him. And he's doing a lot better, too!"

Mikey continues to explain their experiences with their therapists as he works with the pizza, pulling it from the oven and sprinkling garlic and herbs into the crust before setting it back in for a few more minutes...

"Leo's therapist has been giving him tips on how to improve his mental health, gain more self-worth, and deal with his own intrusive thoughts. He said I'd like talking to them, so I went in for a sort of trial run. It was... a little awkward at first. The initial couple of sessions were just us getting to know each other and my therapist asking about my family and some hobbies, which I kinda didn't expect at first? I guess I figured that we'd jump right into the issue... But the more we talked, the closer we got and the easier it was for me to open up about my traumas and problems. So, uh, there's that!"

Mikey chuckles as he checks on the pizza again. Five more minutes, maybe... He sighs as he leaps onto the kitchen counter and perches there.

"So, I guess this is our new normal," April notes. "Everything seems to be all wrapped up for the most part."

"Except for one thing," Cassandra grumbles. "The blue turtle and his fathers aren't here yet! I want to eat the pizza already!!"

"It's not even out of the oven," Raph scolds.

"I'LL EAT IT WITH MY BARE HANDS!" Cass shouts, pumping her fists. "I'LL EAT IT STRAIGHT OUT OF THE FIRE! IT'S NO MATCH FOR ME!!"

"Uh-huh, suuuuuuure," April jokes.

"When is Leo getting back, though?" Mikey asks.

"By my calculations, he'll be here in the next three minutes," Donnie declares. "My tracker says he and Papa and Draxum just left the Yokai clinic and should be getting their contributions for dinner right about now."

"Great! They'll arrive just in time for the pizza..."

The group continue talking about whatever they can until Leonardo's portal illuminates the outer room. Warm welcomes, questions on how the session went, how Leo's doing, what Draxum has been up to, and so on until everyone decides that they are starving and sit themselves down for dinner.

The group catch Leo up to the discussion through the salad and appetizers. He huffs at the mention of Dr. Finn. Draxum catches the others up on the recent finishes to his home and how Huginn and Muninn have come back to work for him again.

Fugitoid pretends to eat the food, which causes Casey Jones to snort his soda through his nose and the entire table laughs, even John Bishop.

Mikey uses his mutated tongue to snag an hors d'oeuvre off of Leo's plate when he isn't looking. Splinter sees and snickers loudly, which alerts Leo to Mikey's second and third attempts.

The pizza comes out a few minutes later, hot and ready. The crust is a bit warped and has strange knots, the cheese is mismatched and looks odd, and the toppings are strangely arranged. It's the wackiest-looking flatbread the world has ever seen.

Yet when each guest takes a bite, they are wonderfully surprised. It is quite possibly the most delicious pizza in the world, despite its flaws and outward appearance.

"Mikey, you made this?" Leo asks with shock as he chows down on the slice.

Mikey nods as he eats his own cheesy triangle.

"Wow, dude! This tastes awesome!"

Mikey's smile stretches across his face as Leo pats him on the back.

"You did good, Mikey! You did really good."

The End.

Prev || AO3

#read the tags #double mutated mikey #double mutation mikey #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt fanfiction #fanfic update #fanfic rec #fanfics #fanfiction #fanfic #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt fanfic #epilogue #finale #finished #finished fanfiction #thank you to everyone who read this story and found it interesting; entertaining; and inspiring!#it means the world to me that y'all were so invested in this #i cannot explain how many times i squealed with laughter and happy stimmed whenever y'all commented in all caps and called me evil tehe 🤭#i really want to thank boots so much for this #Boots you are such an enormous inspiration and your stories are beautifully creative #i had so much fun writing this and including your blurbs and sending you little sneak peeks and exerts #seriously it meant so much to me that you let me continue this story. it went on for a lot longer than i expected... but it was so worth it #boots you are an incredible writer and i credit every single word of this series to you. queen of the fiction. master of the story.#Sincerely thank you!#see you in the next series...

33 notes · View notes

little-diable · 1 year ago

Text

Lucky Shirt - Prof!Benedict Cumberbatch (smut)

I got the chance to work with @writingliv once again – yes, I am very much fangirling, y'all know how much I adore Liv – and boy, I am so proud of us and of this beautiful fic we've written together. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Professor Cumberbatch was perfect. He was sweet, supportive, ever-willing to help. He was attentive and loved to praise your achievements. It came to no surprise that you had ended up trying and succeeding at becoming his favourite student. The two of you had become an unstoppable duo, however, could there be more than mere passion for academia behind it?

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, lots and lots of tension, small sprinkles of angst, age gap, professorxstudent relationship

Pairing: Prof!Benedict Cumberbatch x fem!reader (about 9k words, she's a long one)

Professor Cumberbatch led a life full of rules, keeping clear schedules, boundaries, and conversations. Honest, passionate, and helpful would probably be the three words most people would use to define him. A life dedicated to teaching, to helping, to learning. He never swayed away from his clear-cut schemes unless it was for somebody else’s benefit. Selfless… Professor Cumberbatch was also incredibly selfless.

You, however, would think this set of facts did not do justice to his character. Professor Cumberbatch was not just selfless. He was an absolute saint. He had been your point of guidance since you first joined his class in your last year of undergrad and had offered you a place as a research assistant as a Master’s student. He had happily stayed until late hours helping you with your first dissertation and had never failed to answer any question related-or-not to his topic. Benedict Cumberbatch was your hero, which made your crush on him so much more inappropriate.

You had tried to stop thinking about him that way, feeling guilty at the idea that this saint of man was so willing to help you and take you under his wing, and all you did was fantasise about him breaking all the university rules and fucking you. It was an awful feeling, especially when you were sure he didn’t feel the same way, but it was something you couldn’t yet find a way to get rid of.

So here you were, sitting in his office, wearing that baby blue shirt he had once complimented a year ago or so, waiting for him to come back with news on whether you had been accepted to attend the most important conference in your field. You had excused your continuous wear of the shirt by referring to it as your lucky colour, making it the perfect attire for any important moment you had shared with the professor.

Your black heels had been incessantly tapping his beautiful Persian rug as you tried your best not to bite your nails when the door of the office finally opened incredibly slowly, and a gloomy Cumberbatch appeared on the opposite side wearing a shirt of a starkly similar colour as yours. “I am sorry…” he started to speak, and you felt your heart drop immediately, your hands moving to your face, covering it. “That you will have to cancel all your plans for the week April 19th because we are going to the conference!” He shouted your way, a gigantic crooked smile filling his mischievous face. You couldn’t believe it, instantly uncovering your face and checking his expression for a bluff.

You couldn’t help yourself jumping up from the excitement and reaching for him, giving him a hug. Your professor seemed to equally disregard all decorum, wrapping his hands around your waist before whispering to your ear, “it seems like your lucky colour works.” You tried your best to hide the growing warmth on your cheeks as he let go of you.

“Thank you so much for this! I am so excited! I cannot believe it!” You replied once the two of you were at an appropriate distance again, still looking at each other with the utmost admiration and excitement.

“Do not thank me. You did this all yourself. I just had to answer a reference request, and you may be surprised about this, but I find it incredibly easy to tell people how incredible you are.”

…

“Can anybody tell me when Operation Overlord was fought?” Professor Cumberbatch’s voice echoed through the classroom, eyes flickering to meet yours at any given chance. It felt like you two were playing a game, a game whose rules you have long forgotten, unable to focus on anything but him.

Him, the one you dream of when the nights grow warmer, when the heat fills your bedroom like the heat filling your veins whenever he speaks to you.

Him, the one that makes you tremble whenever his skin meets yours, never in an inappropriate way, though forced closer like magnets unable to part.

Him, the man that popped up in your thoughts when you wake and when you are about to fall asleep. An ever present sensation you slowly but surely adapted to.

You didn’t pay attention to the answer of the student that tried to catch the professor’s attention for the past minutes. Your thoughts weren’t able to grow quiet, a loud sound that rang through your mind like a song you couldn’t stop singing. It was wrong, so awfully wrong, and yet you couldn’t stop yourself from craving his touch, wanting to feel his body pressed against yours without any clothing caught in between.

Professor Cumberbatch needed a few moments to rip his eyes from your features, breaking eye contact with a slight scowl tugging on his face. The nagging voice inside your head made you wonder if he was annoyed with the other student for cutting your shared moment short. There was always something so intense about the way he looked at you, forcing you to sit straighter, eyes unable to move away.

“Anything else you want to add to today’s lesson? If not, you are good to go.” Your heart picked up its beat as his eyes found yours once again, a silent way of communicating, asking you to stay behind for a few more moments. The other students pushed past you all too impatiently, wanting to flee from the classroom, but you didn’t move, not able to even try to imagine another place where you’d rather be.

“I won’t hold you back for long, I just wanted to give you these folders. It’s everything they gave me for the conference.” Your fingers brushed his as you took the folder, breath hitched in your chest. His eyes followed your every move, watching you thumb through the papers, unable to bite down your smile.

“I am so excited, I can’t wait for us to go there!” Your voice left him smiling, unable to bite down his excited grin. Your nerves were running wild, wondering how being at the conference with him will play out, praying to whoever was listening that you’d be able to also focus on something else besides the gorgeous professor you wanted to call yours.

…

Soft music filled Professor Cumberbatch’s office, ringing in your ears without distracting you from the essays you were grading with the professor. It wasn’t unusual for you to join in on his later sessions, finding comfort in his closeness, even though you wouldn’t share many words, just a few glances here and there.

“What is it? You are biting your lip again.” Professor Cumberbatch’s voice ripped you out of your trance, eyes snapping up from the paper. Heat flushed through you as you let go of your lip, teeth no longer buried in the warm flesh.

“Sorry, I struggle to follow their argumentation, it simply makes no sense, and you know how much I hate saying this.” Your voice was soft, not wanting to interrupt the calm atmosphere you two were trapped in. You watched him move closer, admiring the way he carried himself, the way his beige trousers hugged his legs, and how the rolled up sleeves of his black dress shirt exposed just enough of his muscular forearms and the watch clinging to his left wrist. Fuck, you’d dream of this tonight, you were sure of it.

“Let me have a look.” The professor sat down next to you on the comfortable sofa placed in the far back of his office. The scent of his cologne crawled up your nostrils, making you shudder as his leg was pressed against yours. His eyes carefully followed the sentence you had highlighted, concentrating on the arguments the student seemed to have struggled with. “Yes, I see what you mean. Leave it on my desk later, I’ll add some comments myself.”

He pushed the essay back into your hands, eyes meeting yours. Neither one of you dared to move, eyes not wanting to break contact, hearts calling out to one another without finding the right words to express what was burning on the tip of your tongues. He broke the intense moment first, clearing his throat before he rose back to his feet.

“I think I’ve kept you here long enough, you should get some rest and start packing your bags.” Disappointment filled your system, slowly nodding your head as a quiet “Of course” left your lips. And with one last glance shared, you left his office with a racing heart and sweaty palms.

…

You arrived at your apartment and dropped on your bed, sighing loudly. It was getting too difficult to deal with, to keep your gazes in check, to keep him from knowing how you felt. It was overwhelming. It was driving you crazy. You were growing so desperate for any hint of reciprocation that you had started to imagine things, seeing lust in his gaze when it couldn't be there, when it shouldn’t be there.

You decided to check your already packed bag one more time, giving into the parting words of your professor. All the outfits for the conferences lay perfectly organised in your bag, each accompanied by a pair of matching lingerie. No. you were not planning on sleeping with anyone at this event. It was just an old trick that you had once read; wearing matching lingerie makes you feel confident even outside of the bedroom.

You were about to close the bag when your phone rang on your nightstand. You picked it up, surprised to see Professor Cumberbatch calling you at almost 1 am.

“Hello?” you picked up, your fingers playing with the silky material of the matching nightgown to your lingerie.

“Hey there, apologies for the late phone call,” his voice sounded tired and stressed. You knew exactly how badly he wanted all his students to do well, and grading always put him in a bit of a bad mood.

“No problem, Professor. Is everything okay?” your question was filled with worry as you sat down on your bed and wondered if he was still in his office.

“I was just thinking about our conversation from earlier, and I was worried you would think I dismissed you because you couldn’t finish correcting that paper. You know how much I appreciate you helping me with corrections, and I wouldn’t want you to think anything bad of my dismissal. It was just so late and… I sometimes worry that I am stealing all your time. I am sure you have better things to do on a Saturday night than spend it with me, correcting papers with me.” He ranted away nervously. You could hear the sound of his dress shoes in the background as he paced through the room.

“There is no other place I’d rather be,” you blurted out right away, immediately realising the finality of that statement.

“Really?” he chuckled bitterly, “I am sure any other woman your age would disagree. Your twenties are important for your career but also to go out, have fun, make friends, and make mistakes. Please don’t let me keep you away from doing all of those things.”

“I am having fun, and I have friends,” you laughed, slightly hurt that he thought you were a complete loser.

“You know what I mean,” he chuckled, embarrassed.

“No, professor, I am not quite sure. From what I understand, you think I am a loser with no friends or fun,” you laughed, teasing him further.

“What I was trying to say is that there are significantly funner things to be doing on a Saturday than correcting papers with me. At your age, I was doing much more interesting things, at least.”

“What were you doing, Professor?” It was an inappropriate question, especially in the tone you had spoken it. You were not sure where it had come out from, but the exhaustion and comfort of your bed had pulled it out of you.

“I don’t know…” he seemed to be thinking, trying to understand himself where he wanted to draw a line before this conversation broke his rules, “I was partying, drinking, getting into trouble, trying to get girls.”

“I do all of those things,” you replied confidently, a foxy smile on your lips and a particularly strong inflexion in the all.

“Girls?” he asked, cursing himself right away for falling into your obvious trap.

“Girls… boys…” you laughed, “I am usually not the one trying, though. Especially recently, nobody has really caught my interest that way.”

“I guess I should take advantage of it and continue to monopolise your time until you do,” his answer sent a shiver down your spine. It was late, and neither of you was thinking perfectly straight.

“I think you should,” you replied before a yawn took over your voice.

“I should let you get some sleep. We have a long week ahead of us. See you at the station tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Professor.”

…

You watched the scenery pass by, the lush green countryside, the houses that seemed empty and once left behind in a hurry to disappear from rural places like these. Your heart ached at the thought, finding sadness in the empty places, wondering who had once lived inside these buildings.

It had been a good two hours since you had met the professor at the railway station, boarding the train to the conference. And while he was sitting next to you, elbows and thighs close to touching, eyes focused on a book he was reading, you didn’t find the needed comfortableness to focus on your book nor on your notes.

Your mind painted a colourful picture, wondering how the upcoming day with him so close would play out. Even though you were used to seeing him every single week, this was something new, something exciting, something that left you gasping for air.

“Are you cold?” His voice stroked your limbs like the soft April breeze, hands instinctively finding your arms.

“No, I’m alright, thank you.” You shot him a tired smile, cursing yourself for going to bed that late. A yawn clawed through you, eyes momentarily fluttering close. Perhaps you’d be able to find a few moments of rest, nothing long, though just enough to settle your mind and heart.

It felt like a trick of your brain, focusing on the elbow that was slowly pressing against yours, the forearm that met yours on the armrest separating your seats. Your heart was back to jumping in your chest, pounding louder than the rattling noises of the train.

While your mind started overthinking his move, trying to read between the lines, your body seemed to understand what it was supposed to do. All too slow, you placed your head on his shoulder, eyes not daring to flutter open in case you read the signs wrong. A soft exhale of air left the man, hand finding your knee to squeeze your soft skin.

“Get a bit of rest.” His voice successfully managed to lull you to sleep, heart slowly but surely finding a pace that would allow you to rest.

…

“We are here,” a voice shook you softly awake as you realised you had fallen asleep on the man’s arm. You instantly retracted back to your seat, putting as much distance as the train allowed. He looked at you entertained as he stood up, offering you his hand so you could do the same.

You grabbed it slowly, savouring the way his slender long fingers held yours so confidently and got up.

“The hotel is just a 10-minute walk from the station,” Cumberbatch added as he brought down both of your bags from the shelf at the top and then handed you yours.

…

You made sure to fill up the walk with every possible fun fact you had on the city, describing the few monuments you passed by and making sure you to search for your professor’s eyes, incredibly afraid that you had crossed a line by falling asleep on him. He listened to every single one of your words attentively, nodding and smiling as you made the third energy joke in a row.

“We are here,” Cumberbatch finally interrupted you, pointing at a beautiful historic hotel. You exhaled, thankful that soon you would be able to be in your room, away from him, and finally able to think straight.

The two of you entered the hotel and approached the reception, where a pretty, tall girl offered you a smile. “Hi, how are you? We have a four-night reservation under the name Cumberbatch. Two rooms.”

“Mmh… Cumberbatch?” the woman spoke back as she typed the name. A worried expression crossed her face before she looked up, meeting your eyes first and then the professor’s. “I only have one room for two reserved. Not two rooms.”

“That cannot be.” Benedict’s voice was firm and serious as he calmly placed his arms on the front desk.

“I am very sorry. People sometimes get confused when booking from more than one person and assume there are separate rooms.” She spoke politely, showing her best apologetic look.

“I will then pay for an extra room,” Benedict replied, not once turning to look at you.

“We are fully booked,” the woman replied, pressing her lips together, “I am very sorry.”

“There must be SOME available room,” he doubled down before you interrupted him.

“It is fine. We can make it work. The room has a couch, right?” You tried to ease off the tension, smiling at both your professor and the receptionist.

…

“I am so sorry. I have no idea how this mistake could have happened,” Benedict apologised for the tenth time as you reached the elevator, his eyes as soft and heavy as he tried to find a solution to this situation.

“Professor, it is completely fine.” You finally stopped him as the two of you entered the elevator, “there is a couch in the room. I am happy to sleep there.”

“I won’t let you sleep on the couch,” he replied, shocked that you would even think that was an option.

You sighed, closing your eyes, trying to decipher whether this was a dream or your worst nightmare. All you wanted right now was to be alone, to be by yourself, away from the overwhelming need this man filled you with. You had no idea how you would survive sleeping in the same room, regardless of whether it was on a couch, on a bed or on the ground.

The two of you walked towards the room’s door as Benedict bit the inside of his lip to stop himself from apologising again. He opened the door and was met with a queen-sized bed and a tiny minuscule couch. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, turning back around to you to apologise once again, but you stopped him.

“Let’s grab dinner! I heard some people from the conference are also staying at the hotel and grabbing dinner close by! Let’s go!” You patted him on the back and dropped your bag, ready to leave the room and what it would bring in the following days.

His heavy steps pounded against the ground, following you back towards the elevator. An almost uncomfortable silence was now following you two around, urged on by the inappropriate thoughts you both couldn’t shake off. Perhaps dinner would manage to distract the two of you for a moment, letting go of the tension and relaxing in comfortable chairs with other academics close by.

…

“Some more wine?” Benedict’s breath tickled your neck, forcing you to swallow loudly as you wordlessly reached your glass out for him to refill. His gaze was stuck on your features, on the smile you couldn’t stop from widening whenever he spoke up, murmuring facts about the academics you were now surrounded by.

“You have to tell us, (y/n), how does working with a stubborn man like Benedict Cumberbatch work out?” Your chuckles rumbled through you, eyes finding the piercing ones of the man sitting next to you. By now, you have forgotten most facts Benedict had shared with you, could barely remember their names, and yet you tried to play along, elbows placed on the table with your face placed in your hands.

“Let me tell you, it’s an utter nightmare.” Laughter boomed through the evening, through the garden that surrounded a few tables and chairs. The cosy atmosphere that lingered in the restaurant eased some of your tension from earlier, allowing the two of you to breathe calmly. “I am very lucky to have him by my side. No other professor has ever taught me this much.”

The hand of his that was resting on the back of your chair found your shoulder, fingers stroking your skin softly to communicate the gratitude he was feeling. Benedict was all too used to praises, and yet your words had a new meaning to them, making him sit a bit straighter as he began to pay attention to how some of his colleagues looked at you, unable to bite down their curiosity.

“I am the lucky one, I’ve rarely met students as bright as (y/n).” Heat flushed through you, forcing you to take another sip of your wine. You weren’t nearly as tipsy as you wanted to be, unable to accept his praises, the words he spoke that left your insides churning in excitement.

“Be careful, Benedict, otherwise, we may steal her from you.” One of the men sitting close to Benedict spoke the words without much thought, or so it seemed, not expecting the hard expression to widen on Benedict’s features. The professor didn’t reply, eyes searching yours as you shot him a small smile, hand finding his knee before you could give the gesture much thought. His muscles tensed underneath your hand, but before you could even try to move your hand away, he placed his hand on top of yours, squeezing yours.

“We had a long day, we should catch up on some sleep. Have a good evening.” Benedict’s words forced you to your feet, murmuring a soft “Goodbye” to the others. Your breath got stuck in your lungs as Benedict’s hand found your waist, pulling you closer to him as he guided you out of the restaurant. Once again, you felt your thoughts race, focusing on the way his fingers stroked your clothed waist, guiding you through the warm evening towards the hotel.

No further word was spoken as you stepped into the elevator, standing in front of Benedict with your eyes searching his. You couldn’t ignore the way his eyes flickered between your lips and eyes, praying deep inside that he’d finally close the gap. The two of you stood closer than needed, with his hand still placed on your waist and your hand finding his other one. Perhaps this was the moment you had been desperate for years, hoping that he’d finally cross the invisible line between you.

The mere thought of finally feeling his body pressed against yours left heat to fill your veins, heart pounding in your chest. But before either one of you could move again, the elevator came to a halt, forcing the two of you to step out. Only as the darkness of your shared hotel room lured you closer did you begin to realise that the night wouldn’t end like you had hoped it would.

He turned on the light and spoke, “I will take a shower before going to sleep, but don’t wait up for me, sleep well, (y/n). Please take the bed.”

…

Benedict entered the bathroom and left you alone in the bedroom, leaving you to wonder what you had possibly done wrong to ruin such a perfect moment, to stop him from kissing you. You sat on the bed, defeated, as you heard the sound of the shower turning on. Fuck. Maybe it was the alcohol or the burning feeling on your skin, but this felt like too much, too close, too little. It was ridiculous, nothing that deserved you crying over it, yet you could feel your eyes tearing up. The need was too much. He was too much. It almost felt unfair for him to leave you wanting the way he did.

As the sound of the shower stopped just for a second, you snapped out of your pity party, cleaning the tears from your face and getting changed before your professor could exit the room. You opened your bag and searched for your pyjama, only then realising you had brought your nightgown as your only sleeping option. You sighed loudly, covering your face and then dropping your arms to decide.

“Fuck it,” you spoke to yourself as you took off your clothes, putting on the nightgown that barely covered your ass and left little to the imagination for much else. If he could tease you all night, touching your waist, looking at you the way he did, you could do the same and even if he was not interested at all. Even if you had made every sign up in your mind, no man would not at least be tempted by such an outfit.

The bathroom door opened a few seconds later as you were busy folding your clothes back into your bag. You didn’t even dare to turn around to meet his gaze, suddenly feeling a wave of embarrassment overcome the boldness of the alcohol.

Your professor cleared his throat, and you finally met his gaze, feigning being completely and totally oblivious to what you were wearing. His blue eyes looked almost black by how dilated his pupils were, and you couldn’t help but offer him an innocent smile. He was wearing a loose black T-shirt and some grey pyjama pants.

“I am sorry. I didn’t think I would be sharing my room tonight,” you acknowledged the outfit, walking by his side, brushing his arm just so slightly before entering the bathroom with your toothbrush at hand.

Benedict had to command every single one of his muscles not to turn around, not to look at you walk into the bathroom, not to follow you, to pin you against the sink and fuck you right there.

You left the door of the bathroom open as you brushed your teeth, giving him the possibility to look into to watch as the hem of your nightgown rose high enough to show the curve of your ass. He, however, didn’t. Going straight to his couch and grabbing a pillow and duvet from the cupboard, and laying down.

You exited the bathroom excitedly, hoping to have one more chance to tease him before heading to bed but found him already deep asleep. Facing the back of the couch as he uncomfortably tried to fit within it.

…

POV Benedict

He didn’t dare move, eyes squeezed shut, arms wrapped around his too tall frame for a couch this small. Benedict tried to listen to your breaths, counting them to try and figure out if you were already asleep. His cock was aching, twitching in his boxers in a desperate need to be touched by you.

Fuck, he felt like a young boy, unable to guide his body, to pick up on his needs and urges, and to stop himself from giving in before it got too much. He hadn’t expected you to wear something like this, something that left his heart racing, pumping blood straight to his cock. It was torture, the worst situation he had been forced to live through so far, Benedict was convinced of it.

The second his mind painted a picture of your body pressed against his, he shot up from the couch, searching the false comfort the bathroom offered him, door falling shut with a thud. He could only hope that you were truly asleep by now, not picking up on his movements, the heavy breaths leaving him.

His hand pushed his boxers down his legs, just enough to free his hard cock. Precum was bearding his tip, veins shining through the thin skin, fuck, how much he wanted to feel and see your hands wrapped around him. Would you use your mouth on him? Would you stroke your tongue along the underside of his cock before sucking on his tip?

A heavy moan threatened to leave him, caught seconds before it could echo through the bathroom. His teeth left marks on his lower lip as his hand picked up its pace, fucking himself without any mercy, working on the fleeting time night offered him. Deep down, he hated himself for pushing you away this very night, wondering why he hadn’t given in, why he hadn’t chased the closeness you had been willing to offer. But something had held him back, something he was now regretting.

He couldn’t stop another moan from not leaving him, eyes squeezed shut, head rolled back. His orgasm was close, a desperate need to finally get over the sensations the mere sight of you had pushed through him. Benedict had to stop himself from choking on your name, from talking to the (y/n) he imagined kneeling in front of him.

With one last heavy breath leaving him, white cum began to cover his hand, sticking to his skin. Benedict pumped his cock a few more times before he let go of his cock, settling down on the toilet seat.

…

POV Reader

This night probably counted as the top three worst nights of sleep in your life. You had spent it between nightmares and sweats, waking up every couple of hours, feeling incredibly restless. You were thankful to see that it was already 7 am the next time you were shaken awake by another terrible dream. It took you a second to ground yourself; remember where you were. You instantly turned to the couch and found it empty, the bedsheets of your professor perfectly folded on top of it.

You scanned the rest of the room, sitting up, finding it equally as empty. A mix of disappointment and relief filled your chest as you were equal parts thankful he wouldn’t have to see you with this exhausted face and sad you didn’t even get a glance at how he looked right after he woke up in the morning.

You checked your phone and found a message from him, “Good morning! I wanted to give you some privacy before the big day. I will be waiting for you at the lounge if you want to grab breakfast together.”

You smiled at the message, forgetting all about last night. Everything was okay. The two of you were okay. He was your professor, after all, your rock. He had every right to reject you. Everything was okay.

…

You took your time getting ready, trying the different outfits you had brought as options and opting for the simplest one. Your ‘lucky’ shirt, some black suit trousers, and black stilettos. You exited the room confidently, your bag with your presentation at hand and your earphones in your ears. Your “gameday” playlist playing at full volume.

You entered the hotel lounge, finding your professor sitting on a beautiful leather couch, a newspaper on his lap. He was wearing a white button-up and some navy trousers. You approached him eagerly, removing your earphones and greeting him with a smile, “good morning, professor.”

“Good morning,” Benedict spoke, not meeting your gaze once. Eyes stuck on the newspaper.

“Should we get breakfast?” You kept on the smile, sure, he was just very enthralled by whatever he was reading.

“I have actually already eaten,” he replied with a sigh, intensifying his gaze on the paper. You pouted, disappointed, confused by his sudden coldness. “I have some meetings to attend before your presentation. Do you mind if we meet there already?”

You hesitated in answering, trying to keep the disappointment on your face from turning into clear sadness. He finally looked up, noticing your silence. His eyes were empty, cold like they had never been before.

“Of course,” you finally replied after he raised an eyebrow, “I…I will just go over the presentation by myself.” You had to look away before your eyes started to water, which seemed to pull a reaction right out of you.

Benedict stood up and placed a hand on your shoulder, “you will do amazingly. You are smart and incredible. You don’t need me for this. I will be in the crowd cheering.”

You tried to look at him, thankful that it had just been a small weird moment of coldness, but he had already started to walk away towards the exit of the hotel, leaving you standing there.

…

Were this many people always supposed to be at the event? Had everyone just suddenly realised your topic was cool and decided to listen to you talk? Where was he? You were starting in mere minutes, and there were barely any seats left. Where was he?

You squeezed the flashcards in your hands, trying to stop the trembling in your hands. You peeked once again from the stage, searching for him between the rows of mostly middle-aged men.

“You are going up in three,” some random guy with an earpiece said as you nodded emphatically, shutting your eyes and trying to control your breathing.

You stayed there for a couple of seconds, controlling your breathing, reminding yourself that this was your research. That you could do this alone. That you didn’t need anybody else. You were about to open your eyes when a hand on your shoulder startled you. Blue. All you saw was blue for a second until you could focus on the rest of his face. He had changed. He was wearing your lucky colour.

“Everything will be fine,” Benedict nodded softly, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead as he seemed slightly out of breath.

“You are here,” you exhaled the words out.

“I am sorry, I-” he lowered his gaze in shame, but he was stopped by the earpiece guy announcing you were up. “You can do this. You are smart. Your research is incredible, and you are so incredibly charismatic that I wouldn’t be surprised if every professor in the room would try to steal you after this. Go show them how amazing you are. I am here.”

You nodded emphatically, instinctively pulling him into a hug and burying your face in his chest just for a second, feeling as he stiffened under your touch. You let go of him and nodded a little more, breathing in and out and walking onto the stage.

…

“Thank you, everyone, for listening,” you closed your presentation as the room broke into a myriad of applauses, a feeling of euphoria filling your chest as you turned to look to your professor, that stood still behind the curtain, giving you the most idolising smile you had ever seen.

You walked out of the stage with a gigantic smile straight towards your professor, whose hands immediately cupped your face, “that was incredible.”

“Thank you,” you looked up at him, immediately filled with all that tension that had been there the night before.

You were interrupted by a group of listeners approaching, and Benedict immediately moved away from you, looking down, realising the inappropriateness of his proximity. It felt as if this moment managed to rip you out of your trance, the bubble of excitement and happiness had popped, and once again doubts began to fill your mind. You were hurt, sad, and angry that Benedict hadn’t been there to support you through the hours leading up to your talk, hiding away from you rather than murmuring comforting words.

Whatever game he was playing, it was a game you found no pleasure in, growing antsy as you began to overthink what had happened in the past hours. From the second he had told you about the conference, Benedict had promised that he’d be with you on that very special day. He’d guide you like a mentor, like a friend, empty promises you were now clinging to. The ship had left the harbour, but the waves of anger had ripped it to the cold ground before the crew could swim to safety. Swimming had always been easy with Benedict near, but drowning had felt so much easier today.

…

The glass of champagne felt cold against your palm as you let your eyes wander. You were able to spot a few familiar faces in the crowd of scientists you were trapped in, celebrating your and their success. Benedict stood close to you, focused on the conversation he had been pulled into, unable to escape before the others had noticed him.

“An impressive talk, (y/n), I hope you’re proud of yourself.” One of the men you and Benedict had dined with yesterday evening was now standing in front of you. He was handsome, almost as tall as Benedict, but his eyes didn’t have that mesmerising blue colour you’d always recognise, his hair wasn’t brown like the coffee Benedict would bring you whenever you helped him grade essays, and his hands weren’t as big as the ones you wanted to feel on your body.

“Thank you! I am very happy about the crowd’s reaction to it.” A smile tugged on your lips as you took a sip, buying yourself some time. Fading seconds Benedict used to study you, the fake smile he instantly saw through, the slightly uncomfortable shifting of your weight from one leg to the other. He stepped closer, hand trying to come to rest on your waist, but you pulled away before he could touch you. “Excuse me, gentlemen, I’ll get myself another drink.”

You felt his eyes burning through your back, standing on the spot you had been standing on seconds ago, jaw muscles clenched. With every step you took away from him, your heart picked up its pace, pounding in your ribcage, fuelled by your anxiety and anger. Why did he have to be so cold towards you this morning? Why did he have to chase the distance rather than finally closing the small gaps between you?

Slowly you made your way through the crowd, holding onto your refilled glass with an iron grip. You weren’t nearly as tipsy enough as you wanted to be, pouring down big gulps to try and get rid of the tension that held your system hostage. Piercing blue eyes found yours from afar, wordlessly guiding you closer, surrounded by men and women you haven’t met before.

“May I introduce you to my wonderful (y/n)?” Benedict’s voice had a strange undertone to it, pronouncing your name with a newfound possessiveness dripping from it. This time you didn’t get to pull away as his hand gripped your waist, pulling you into his side. Your thoughts were racing as fast as your heart, but you tried to smile at the people that now shook your free hand, eyes not wandering from your features. Benedict’s fingers kept boring into your skin, not giving you the slightest chance to even try and escape him.

Only as the people moved on, finding new conversations to get lost in, did you manage to free yourself. With your gaze set on your glass, you took a step away from him and another before his patience seemed to snap. His big hand came down on your wrist, the other took your glass from you to place it down on the nearest table before he started pulling you through the room.

“Where are we going?” He ignored your question, pulling you outside into the hallway.

“What is going on with you? You’re behaving like a child.” Benedict’s words cut right through you, forcing a scoff from you. For a second, you allowed yourself to study him. His eyes no longer reminded you of a cloudless blue sky, but rather an angry storm threatening to unleash its power, fuck, why was he still so very handsome.

“I’m the one behaving like a child? You left me hanging this morning, even though you promised not to leave me alone before the talk!” He clenched his jaw, eyes growing even darker as he took a step closer, towering over you.

“Is that how you speak to your supervisor? I’d be careful of my tone if I were you.” You barely recognised his voice, dark and husky, leaving your thighs clenching and your hands shaking. Even though you were angry at him, so fucking angry, you couldn’t help but let your gaze flicker to his lips, wanting to feel them pressed against yours.

“Are you threatening me? You know what, fuck you, Benedict!” The words left you before you could stop them from rolling off your tongue, trying to turn away from him with hurried steps. But you didn’t get far, pulled against his hard chest with one of his hands cupping your warm cheek and the other resting on your waist. For a few seconds, Benedict studied you with dilated pupils and heavy breaths spluttering from his thin lips. Seconds that passed by all too slowly, torturing you and your racing heart. Something seemed to give him the final push, lips meeting yours before you could speak another word.

Your mind didn’t get any time to focus on the situation, guided by your body, by the way your lips moved in sync with his. For years you had tried to imagine what kissing Benedict may feel like, but this was a new sensation, something raw, something full of emotion, something you were addicted to from the first second on. Your hands found his suit jacket, clinging to him for dear life as if you were scared he’d part from you way too soon.

His tongue moved along your lower lip, coaxing a moan from you. The kiss grew more heated with every passing second, relishing in one another’s touch, the beats of your racing hearts, the blood rushing through your veins, a beautiful mixture. Benedict slowly parted from you to catch his breath, staring down at you with a smirk, an expression that left your insides churning in anticipation. With his hand finding yours, he wordlessly pulled you down the hallway towards the elevator that would take you up to the floor of your room.

Was this it? Was this the moment you had thought of too many times to count? Was this the moment you had thought of as your wandering hands took care of the ache between your legs?

The second the doors of the elevator started to close, you were pulled in for another kiss, pressed against the mirror you didn’t dare look at. You could only guess that you looked like a mess, hair tousled, lips swollen, eyes wide – all because of the man that couldn’t stop touching you.

“I,” Benedict murmured against your lips, hands toying with the fabric of your lucky shirt, struggling to find the right words. “I’m sorry for being this cold towards you, I still struggle with what you make me feel, and with the power my position holds over you, I don’t ever want you to think that I’m using you. You need to know, if you want me to stop, you can always say so.”

His thumb ran along your swollen lips, unable to bite down his smile as you pressed a kiss to his digit. The elevator came to a halt, allowing the two of you to find your way to your hotel room, pushed inside by his big hand finding your lower back. Benedict didn’t let you get far, hands pulling you against his chest, eyes getting lost in yours.

“I need your spoken consent before I touch you.” His lips ghosted over yours, patiently waiting for you to speak up. It took you a few seconds to speak up, unable to concentrate on anything but his touch, the fire he had unleashed inside of you, a fire so daunting he wouldn’t ever be able to tame it.

“Touch me, please, professor.” The use of his title seemed to push Benedict over the edge, growling against your lips as you were guided towards the big bed. His lips found your throat, sucking on the spots that left your toes curling and your heart skipping needed beats. Skilled hands undid the buttons of your shirt, pushing the fabric off your shoulders to expose the lacy lingerie you were wearing. Benedict marveled at you, freezing the moment for seconds as his eyes took in the sight in front of him, wondering how and why he got so lucky.

You murmured his name, snapping him out of his trance, hands working on his shirt. The moment pushed your nerves over the edge, hands struggling to undo the small buttons, signing in relief as he pushed you away, tugging the shirt over his head. Benedict didn’t give you any time to take in his upper body, the muscles you wanted to run your hands across, the freckles and small spots you wanted to kiss, forced down onto the bed. Your professor towered over you, lower lip caught between his teeth as he watched you undo your bra, exposing your breasts to his wandering eyes.

“I’ve been waiting a long time to see you like this, at my mercy, ready to give me whatever I’m asking of you.” His raspy voice left you gasping, eyes rolling back as his hands undid your trousers, helping you out of them. By now, you were only wearing your soaked-through, lacy panties, a sight that could make the blind see again, Benedict was sure of it. A work of art, the finest creation his eyes would ever get to take in. He wanted to take his time with you, wanted to love on every inch of your skin, but his own desperation drove him closer to you, shuffling out of his trousers with hurried movements.

He crawled up your body, flipping the two of you around for you to settle in his lap, feeling his hard cock pressing against your core. Fuck, you were already done for, balancing along the line of your state of pleasure only he’d push you into. His hand found the back of your neck to pull you in for another kiss, eyes fluttering close as his free hand found your chest, cupping your breast, tugging on your hard nipple. Moans clawed through you, all too shamelessly, all too freely, unable to hold back the sounds he elicited.

“I knew I'd never be able to hold back once I touched you, and I was scared of losing my control around you.” You knew he was talking about yesterday evening. You knew he was trying to smooth out the wrinkles on your heart he had crumpled like a piece of paper, and yet you couldn’t focus on them. You kissed him again, murmuring a soft “I need you, professor” against his lips.

His strong hands found your hips, grinding your core against his clothed cock, making your breaths get stuck in your lungs. The both of you were close to snapping, skipping the foreplay just to feel one another, and yet Benedict tried to hold back, not wanting to end your moment together this fast. Your legs quivered, the feeling he pushed through you with the grinding movements left your walls clenching around nothing, forcing a “More, please” out of you.

“Ask for it properly, you know how to be a good girl for me.” Benedict’s teasing words left you whining, eyes fluttering close as he stopped your movements, holding still to patiently wait for you to express your every need.

“Want your cock, fuck, need you inside of me.” A growl was forced out of Benedict, flipping you around once again, panties forced down your legs before your mind could even begin to catch up with his movements. With your body fully exposed to him, you were lying beneath him, staring up at him with lust-blown pupils and your teeth buried in your lower lip. His big hand found your core, brushing his fingers through your folds, moaning as he felt your wetness. You were dripping for him, body showing him how much you needed his touch, how desperate you were for him, for his fingers, for his cock.

His soft fingers circled your pulsing bundle of nerves, forcing your back to arch and your hands to fist the fabric of the blanket you were laying on. Benedict found himself obsessing over your sounds, hoping that he’d get to coax them out of you for endless nights to come, very well aware that he’d never be able to part from you and your bond again.

“Oh fuck, don’t stop.” He had pushed two fingers into your tightness, curling them against your swollen spot. Both of you knew that he was teasing you, fucking you all too slow, wanting to prolong the moment for as long as possible. Curses rolled off your tongue, forcing one of your hands to find his forearm, nails clawed into his skin, set on leaving marks he’d have to hide for the next few days.

“So desperate for me, so pretty, I knew you’d be perfect for me.” His praises left your skin growing warmer, eyes unable to meet his intense gaze. You felt your orgasm growing closer, wanting to let go, giving room to the intense sensation you were aching for. But just a second before you could give in with his name rolling off your tongue, Benedict let go of you.

Your eyes snapped open, staring at him with parted lips and furrowed eyebrows, a moment of confusion passed as you watched him reach for his wallet, pulling out a silvery foil packet. His eyes searched yours as he pulled his cock free, boxers left on the ground next to your panties; you couldn’t pay any attention to the fabric, eyes wandering down his naked frame, taking in the sight of his hard cock. His tip was flushed red, length twitching in his grasp, close to combusting.

“Are you sure about this? We can always stop.” Benedict was once again towering over you, not daring to move as he stared down at you. With one hand, you pulled him down to you, lips finding his as you murmured a soft “Fuck me”. Skilled fingers rolled the condom down his cock, aligning himself with your entrance before he slowly pushed into you. The both of you had to halt for a moment, eyes squeezed shut to take in the new feeling, adjusting to the tightness of your walls to the size of his cock.

“Move, please.” Your command was met with a groan, building a slow rhythm that took a few thrusts for you to get used to. The moans that tried to claw through you were held back by your pressed-together lips, not wanting to give your loud sounds enough room to reverberate through the thin four walls you were surrounded by, something Benedict easily picked up on.

“Don’t hold back, let me hear you, love.” The use of the nickname broke the dam, allowing your sounds to rumble through you. Your nails left marks down his back, scratching at his skin in a desperate try to hold onto him. His hips met yours with every thrust, forcing himself deeper into you, needing to etch this every moment into your mind. “You’re doing so well, my pretty girl.”

The second his tip met your swollen spot, you choked on your gasps, letting go of a high-pitched “Oh god”, very well knowing that you’d cum all too soon. Benedict’s smile began to widen as he picked up on your desperation, fingers finding their way back to your clit. You gripped his shoulders as your orgasm began to rock through you, filling your every pore, overtaking your whole body.

Benedict fucked you through your high, getting lost in your pleasure and drunken features, feeling his own high filling his body. He gave it a few more thrusts before he came, holding still as his cum filled the condom.

…

The rest of the week was spent between conferences, lingering touches, and long nights of fucking. Benedict could barely keep his hands away from you when you were in public. His eyes were always searching for you when you weren’t by his side. His hands perpetually on your waist as the two of you made small talk with other academics. Sometimes you couldn't make it until the night, sneaking into an empty hallway, a bathroom, back to your room. He was addicted to you, and you could barely believe all your dreams had finally come true.

It was safe to say your grading sessions were never the same again. They mostly occurred in his house now, and they included dinner and a couple of fucking-breaks. They weren’t as efficient but significantly more fun.

#Benedict Cumberbatch smut #Benedict Cumberbatch imagine #professor fic #doctor strange #bbc sherlock #Benedict Cumberbatch x you

297 notes · View notes

hippiegoth97 · 6 months ago

Text

Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 10

Collage by me :)

Master List

Part 9

Tag List: @rafescurtainbangz @voyeurmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @mediocredreams

@slowandsteddie @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore

@rattkween86 @violetpixiedust @bimbobaggins69 @purplehazed-h @morning-rituals

@eddie-van-munson @msgexymunson @munsoneightysixx @impmunson @mysticalstar30

@jenniquinn @oneforthemunny @succubusmunson @ddeadly-succubus @prettyboyeddiemunson

@sanctumdemunson @stalactitekilla @s6raphic @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne

@ohmeg @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever @ahoyyharrington @micheledawn1975

@costellation-hunter @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @yourdailymemedelivery @spacedoutdaydreamer

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, smut, teasing, alcohol use, oral sex, fingering, praise/degradation, squirting, role swapping

Word Count: 7.3k

Divider by @strangergraphics

Pt.10: Centerfold

Friday, April 7th, 1989

You wake up the next morning to Mom knocking on your door. You groan as you roll over, the bedroom light blinding your eyes. "Sugarpuff? I've got to leave for work, but I hope your dinner with Eddie goes well. I love ya, kiddo." She says, muffled behind the wood barrier thankfully keeping her out. You don't even want to look at her right now, last night was so awful. You peer over at the clock, 10am. You get up to go pee, just barely beating Dustin to the bathroom. He notices your smudged makeup from yesterday, becoming a little concerned.

"You okay, Y/N?" He asks. He'd spent the night at Mike's house since Jane, Will, and Jonathan don't fly back to Lenora until tomorrow.

"I'm fine, Dusty. I just slept too late. I've got a date with Eddie tonight, so I gotta get moving." You answer groggily as you close the bathroom door behind you.

"But it's only ten in the morning!" He shouts from the other side of the door. You open it again, poking your head out.

"Yes, but I have to eat, shower, pick out an outfit, do my hair and makeup, and get my purse ready. Girls have a lot to do in preparation for a date. Not that you'd know anything about that. At this rate, I'm already behind schedule." You're laying the attitude on thick today, genuinely giving zero fucks about anything besides plans with your boyfriend. "So, if you don't mind, I need to piss." You slam the door shut again, leaving Dustin alone in the hall.

"I hope you get a little less bitchy by the time Eddie shows up!" He shouts, going into his own room to wait for you to be finished. Dustin can't help feeling a little worried about you. Your mood is more angry than he's used to. Sure, you've always been a little prickly, but nothing like this. He sighs, reassuring himself that you'll cool off if he just lets you be.

You finish up in the bathroom, and Dustin quickly runs inside as you leave. You rustle up some breakfast, just some toast with jam and butter. You're not particularly hungry right now, you're not really anything right now. You're irritated, that's for sure. And it's numbing down everything else. You can only hope you’ll feel better soon. You don't want to be in a bad mood when you're supposed to be celebrating, it wouldn't be fair to Eddie. You force the toast down your gullet, and it sits like a brick in your belly. Your brother opens the fridge wordlessly, avoiding your gaze. You sigh, realizing that you've hurt his feelings. "Dustin, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have acted like that. Mom was snooping around in my business again last night, and I've been in a sour mood after that."

He nods, understanding what it's like to be on the business end of Mom giving in to her urge to eavesdrop. "It's alright, Y/N. I figured there'd be a good reason for you to be like that. Sorry for calling you bitchy, though. That wasn't very kind, either." He says sympathetically, bowing his head in shame.

"I was being a bitch, so it's alright. Come on, bring it in." You reel him into your arms for a hug, and he slowly melts into it. You plant a kiss on the top of his curly head, which makes him gag.

"Eww. It's bad enough when Mom does that." He protests, squirming away.

"Oh please, you know you love it." You ruffle his hair, smiling wide.

"Quit it! I'm serious!" He laughs, running around the counter to dodge you. You chase after him, cackling as you try to grab his arms.

"Never! I will be victorious!" You manage to snag Dustin's wrist, quickly overpowering him to wrestle him to the floor. "Time for a noogie!" You exclaim, pinning him with your elbow and you roughly rub your fist into his scalp.

"Okay, you win! Just get off, please!" He yields. You sit back on your knees, letting him up. You're both out of breath, red in the face from laughing so hard. You stand up, extending a hand to Dustin. He takes it, and you help him off the tile floor.

"Alright, I'm gonna go shower. This little game has been fun, but I have a date to get ready for." You jog to the bathroom again, rapidly undressing as you set the water to your preferred temperature. You're rushing, and Eddie would be telling you to calm down right about now. But, you can't help it, you're excited to the point of bursting. You speed through your shower, quickly hopping out to go find the perfect outfit. You dig through your closet, looking for a cute dress to wear. You haven't worn one around him yet, and it’ll be very easy to take off later.

You dig out a dress you haven't worn in years. A gift from an old friend, though you forget who. The second your eyes fall onto it, you know it's the one. It's a simple, crushed-velvet black dress. It has spaghetti straps to show off your shoulders, and the hem sits at your lower thighs to just barely cover the garterbelt you'll be wearing underneath. You set it on your bed, heading back to the bathroom to blowdry your hair.

When it's almost time for Eddie to pick you up, you're still working on your makeup. You've got the lingerie, the dress, and the heels on. The presents are waiting right next to you, but you're still trying to get your eyeliner right. You almost scratch your eyeball when you hear the doorbell ring. "Jesus, fuck." You mutter as you get startled, setting the pencil down. You take one last look at yourself, adjusting your breasts in your dress, inspecting your updo for any stray hairs. "Knock 'em dead, Y/N." You say to yourself, nodding in agreement with your reflection. You sling your purse over your shoulder, and snatch the presents into your arms.

"Eddie's here, Y/N!" Dustin shouts to you as he lets Eddie inside. You leave your room to meet him by the door, strolling confidently down the hallway. "Whoa." He gasps when you enter the room. He's never seen you so dressed up like that since the prom. He can't help cracking a smile, and you mouth a polite 'thank you' at him.

"Took the words right outta my mouth, Henderson." Eddie replies, unable to stop staring at you. You meet his gaze, immediately blushing at how intensely he's looking you over. It's here that you take in his own appearance. He's wearing surprisingly not-ripped black jeans, and his signature Reeboks. But he's also got on a black button-up shirt, with a couple buttons left open and the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. His hair is tied back in a thick ponytail, like how he wears it for work. He's holding a bouquet of sunflowers in his hands, struggling to form another sentence as you've thrown him off his game. "I uh....got these for you." Eddie holds out the flowers awkwardly, clearing his throat to compose himself. "I figured roses are a bit cliché, and these reminded me of you." His cheeks turn a dark crimson, growing shy in your radiant presence.

You set the gifts down for a moment and make your way over to him, taking your time as a means to tease him. You grin as you reach him, placing your hands on his chest before leaning in for a kiss. Eddie's breath shudders into your face, and he closes his eyes in preparation for you to lay one on him. But just before your lips can meet, you pull away. He stumbles forward slightly, opening his eyes in disbelief. He scoffs at your antics, surprised you're so calm after seeing him all dressed up. "Sorry, baby. I had to get you back for a month ago." You explain, giving him a quick peck as an apology, graciously accepting the beautiful bouquet. His hands instinctively go to your waist once you've taken it. "Thank you, darling. These are gorgeous! Let me put them in some water." You leave his grasp, swaying your hips as you practically strut to the kitchen to find a vase.

Dustin cringes at your flirting, wanting to escape this situation immediately. If there's one thing he doesn't want to see, it's his sister trying to seduce one of his best friends with her butt. "Okaaaay, I can see I'm not needed here. Have a good time, lovebirds." He says as he runs from the room, retreating from your displays of affection.

"Later, Dustin." Eddie calls to him, his eyes refusing to leave your body. You pull a simple vase from one of the cupboards, filling it with cold water and sticking the bunch of flowers into it. You set the vase onto the kitchen island, prominently displaying the golden flowers. "You really like them?" He asks, always unsure if he's given you the right thing.

"I love them, Eddie." You go back over to pick up your gifts, rejoining him at the front door. "You ready to go?" You ask, entwining your free hand with his. He doesn't answer you, he can't stop ogling your chest. "My love, are you alright?" You play innocent, batting your eyelashes at him. It's very flattering that he's so attracted to you like this. You're really gonna rock his world when he sees what's underneath your dress.

His eyes finally meet yours again, his cheeks flushing dark red. He clears his throat, trying to keep himself together. "Uh, yeah. I'm fine. You just look really beautiful tonight." He rubs his neck anxiously, a forced laugh leaving his lips.

"You clean up pretty good yourself, handsome." You give him a kiss on the neck, leaving a perfect mark of lipstick on his heated flesh. He whimpers at the contact, fighting off an oncoming erection.

"Jesus." He mutters, shaking his head to calm his increasingly dirty thoughts. He smiles at you, leading you out the front door to his van. You climb into your side, leaning into the back to set down the presents. Eddie notices your ass pointed in the air as he gets in, eyes bugging out of his head. He can see the straps of your garter belt, and once again he's found himself thinking about sports to calm down. You face forward to sit in your seat, smoothing down the skirt of your dress. You notice him staring again, looking over with a large grin.

"Whatcha lookin' at, sexy?" You catch his gaze, winking at him. Eddie swallows hard, mouth agape, like he's trying to speak but the words have been stolen from him. "You sure you're okay? I've never seen you so spazzy before." You put a hand on his knee to comfort him.

"Yeah, sorry. I don't know what's gotten into me. Well, you, I guess." He chuckles nervously, sighing afterwards to let it all go. "Alright, I'm focused. We've got a picnic to get to!" He smiles at you, back to his old self. He puts the van into gear, pulling away from your house to take you on your first real date.

"You look really good by the way, Eds." You tell him after a couple minutes of silence, as if the nervous energy has been transferred from Eddie into you. Your knee won't stop bobbing up and down, your heel tapping on the floor of the van. You hope he'll like his gifts, and that he'll like how you look in the lingerie. You know he will, but there's always that little seed of doubt trying to plant itself in your mind. You notice his large hand reach over to still you, stroking your stocking-clad flesh lovingly.

"Thank you. And relax, angel. Let's just have fun tonight, 'kay?" You just nod, his hand on you sends your stomach into a free fall. You're not really sure why both of you are so amped up. Could it be the fact that you've been together a month already? Or that this is your first official date? Something else? You roll your eyes at the swirling questions inside your head, annoyed at them forming a tiny tornado within your skull. You've always been an overthinker, which Eddie is kind enough to call you out for on many occasions. But it appears he might be having an internal struggle of his own, you suppose there's a decent amount of pressure riding on this.

"So, what's on the menu this evening?" You ask, keeping up light conversation to break the tension.

"Well, I thought I'd keep it simple, since we're dressed up so nice. It's just sandwiches, but I also got a bottle of wine. Beer isn't exactly romantic, and the guy at the liquor store helped me find something." Eddie says.

"Are you trying to get me drunk, darling?" You joke, getting a small chuckle out of him.

"I wouldn't dream of it, baby. That wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me now, would it?" He smirks, glancing at you for a moment. You're settling back into your usual groove, clearing some of the tension between you. Eddie puts the van in park, having reached your final destination. "So, I realized Hawkins doesn't exactly have anything in the way of an actual park. But I hope this spot is just as good." You gasp as you look through the windshield to see a long stretch of field, covered in colorful wildflowers. The grass is a bit tall, but you don't mind at all. It's absolutely beautiful, peaceful and secluded, surrounded by thick trees, with no houses or buildings nearby. Eddie jumps out of his side, jogging around the front to open your door for you.

"It's wonderful, Eddie. I love it." He smiles at your amazement, congratulating himself on picking the perfect place for your special night.

"I'm glad you like it, sweetheart." He takes hold of your hand, kissing it gently. "C’mon." He instructs quietly, helping you hop out of the van. He goes to the back, opening the doors to pull out a wicker basket and a neatly folded blanket. You grab his gifts again, walking with him through the ankle-height grass to find an even spot of ground to sit on. It's difficult for you to walk on in your heels, but you manage to not fall flat on your face. Eddie lays the plaid blanket down for you, setting the basket in the middle before helping you get comfortable. You sit on your knees, keeping your legs together. It's awkward for you, you're usually a pants kind of girl. "I hope you like ham and cheese." Eddie says, flipping one of the flaps of the basket open. He pulls out the sandwiches, which he's wrapped in some wax paper. He also takes out the bottle of wine and a couple of mugs you recognize from Wayne's collection. "We didn't have any wine glasses." He explains sheepishly as he places one with the Grand Canyon on it beside you, though you don't feel he needs to.

"It's alright, baby. It's better this way, less chance of a spill." You assure him, and he relaxes again. He twists the cap off the bottle, pouring some wine into your cup and then his own. "Thank you, love." You hold the cool ceramic with both hands, your ring and middle fingers sliding under the handle. You wait for Eddie to put the bottle back into the basket, and he takes hold of his own cup. He leans back on his free hand, his legs laying straight out and crossed over one another.

Without thinking about it, you bring the wine to your lips and down the whole thing. It's very sweet, splashing down your throat smoothly. "Jesus, Y/N. Pace yourself, we've got all night." Eddie chuckles, watching as you painstakingly wipe the drop of wine from your face without smudging your makeup. You set the mug down on the plush blanket, moving the basket into the grass so you can scoot closer to him. He's taking a sip from his own mug as you do, so he doesn't notice until he feels your hand on his shoulder. He almost chokes, swallowing hard before looking at you. "Hey, there." He says through a small cough. You don't say anything in response, your eyes flicking down to his lips. There's a tiny droplet of wine on them, and you just can't resist leaning in to lick it off. Eddie watches helplessly as you grip his shoulder and drag your warm tongue across his mouth.

"Mm, you picked a good one, darling." You speak lowly, breath fanning in his face as you haven't backed off just yet. Your hearts pound inside your chests, the tension palpable in this moment. If he didn't know any better, he'd take you right now. But you're just toying with him, riling him up for later. You gaze into his blown out eyes, reaching behind you effortlessly to place a sandwich into his lap. "Eat up, Eds. Wouldn't want you to spoil your dinner by rushing into dessert." You pat his shoulder, letting him go for the time being. You grab your own sandwich, unwrapping it slowly.

Eddie just scoffs, unable to move or speak. He has no idea how you manage to drive him to such a state, usually this goes the other way around. Or better yet, you're both a nervous wreck. But something is different with you, he just can't figure out what as of yet. Little does he know, wearing the sexy underwear you bought to please him has made you feel so fucking good that almost nothing can stop you. That, and the wine is currently tossing your inhibitions from earlier out the window. No more nervous Y/N tonight, that bitch is dead. Neither of you say anything else, Eddie's utterly speechless, and anything out of your mouth will only serve to turn him on further. And you may like to tease, but you're far from cruel. You eat your food quietly, eyes exploring the lush scenery.

Eddie finishes before you, reaching over to pick a purple flower from the colorful sea that surrounds you. You feel his cold rings brush against your ear, looking to see him trying to tuck the stem into your hair. "A pretty flower, for an even prettier girl." He smiles again, pulling out some of his own charms to pay you back. You blush at his words, giggling a bit more than you'd like. "Are you ready for your presents, baby?" He asks once you've polished off your sandwich.

You nod as you're still chewing the last bite. After you swallow, you pick up the blue bundle and red envelope, putting them on his lap. He grunts at the weight of the books, and you give him an apologetic look. "Sorry, they're a little heavier than I expected." He just nods with a subdued grimace, reaching into the basket once more to pull out two small black boxes tied with ribbon. He hands them to you, and you gingerly take hold of them.

"You first, baby. Start with that one." He pokes one box with his finger, and you set the other in your lap before pulling the ribbon loose. You open the lid, finding two perfectly rolled joints inside. "I figure we can use those later, if you like." He speaks into your ear, biting the top of it to send a chill through your body. You sit with it a moment, taking one of the blunts in your hand to look it over. You've only smoked weed once before, you can't quite remember when though. "Do you not like it? I guess I never even asked if you've smoked before." There he goes again, doubting his present. Your heart aches at the disappointed tone in his voice, and you turn your head to look deep into his eyes. You cup his cheek, smiling in appreciation.

"I like it, Eds, I do. I've only done it once, a long time ago. I don't remember if I liked it, but I'd happily try it again with you." You give him another kiss, slightly painting his own lips red. You put the joint back with its twin, carefully closing the box up for later. You look for permission to open your other gift, and he nods approvingly at you. He's absolutely beaming, ready for you to see what lies within that second little box. What you find makes your jaw drop. "Oh my god, Eddie!" You shriek in excitement as you stare at the beautiful diamond stud earrings inside the box. They sparkle in the sunlight, absolutely gorgeous.

"I knew you'd like those, princess." He smirks as you clumsily take off your gold hoops to put in the studs, placing your old earrings in the box for safe keeping. You turn your head to show him how they look on you. "You’re gorgeous, babydoll. Although, it doesn't take jewelry to achieve that."

"I love them, Eds. They're beautiful." Another peck is exchanged between you. "Your turn!" You clap your hands together excitedly, you can't wait for the look on Eddie's face when he sees what you’ve got for him. He's about to open the envelope, when you abruptly stop him. "Oh, open the blue one first." He chuckles at your anxious expression, and sets the envelope aside to tear open the dark blue wrapping paper. Eddie undresses the books, and he smiles. He flips through the pages, admiring the color photos inside. Nobody's ever thought to give him a cookbook before, he absolutely loves to make meals for people. And you've given him something to expand his 2-recipe rolodex.

"Y/N! This is so sweet!" He turns to you in disbelief, pulling you in for a suffocating hug. "I'm gonna make every recipe in these for you, I promise. It's so thoughtful, angel. Thank you." He presses a kiss onto your head before releasing you.

"I'm glad you like them, love. And I can't wait to taste every amazing thing you'll make." He sets the books off to the side, returning his attention to that mysterious little envelope you insisted he open last. "Now I know you're gonna love this." You waggle your eyebrows goofily, making him laugh. You love the way he laughs, it's so warm and joyful. And he doesn't shy away from sounding obnoxious, though you would never find it annoying.

"Is that so? What makes you so sure?" He teases, stroking the thin paper in his fingers as he's intrigued to find out what's inside. You bite your lip while he flirts with the idea of ripping the seal, anticipation rapidly building inside you. "It must be somethin' really special, if watching me open it has you so worked up." He stops drawing it out, tearing the top open and slowly pulling out the photographs. It takes him a second to fully realize what he's looking at, holding the stack gingerly in his hand. But once his eyes translate that it's you wearing sexy black lace underwear in these pictures, his breath catches in his throat. "Jesus." He mutters, amazed that you're bold enough to do such a thing for him. He works his way through the photos, examining every detail before bringing the next one forward.

"Just wait until you see the last one." You purr into his ear, making him shudder. It's so hot to watch him look at these pictures of you, your senses have heightened significantly the second he broke that seal. You lean on one hand, bringing the other to his chest. You slowly pop open a couple buttons on his shirt, diving under the dark material to feel him up as he gawks at your gift. His heart pounds against your fingertips, and his chest rises and falls unevenly. Eddie audibly groans repeatedly as he flips through each picture, and from you touching him. You pull your hand out of his shirt, snaking your way down to the bulge forming in his jeans. You palm him as lightly as possible through his pants, wanting to egg him on just the slightest bit.

"Fuck, princess." He moans loudly, savoring your hold on him. And then he sees it, the final image. You're on your knees, head fallen to the side in absolute ecstasy. It looks like you're moaning, he can hear the sound of it in his head. Your hand is between your legs, stroking the most intimate part of yourself. And your eyes are staring right at him, showing him you're all his. This has gotta be the dirtiest thing he's ever seen, and it's so fucking beautiful.

"What do you think, baby?" You ask before you lick the length of Eddie's neck, groping his hard-on more firmly now. He moans again, unable to handle how sexy you're acting right now. He grabs his mug of wine and chugs it, gulping heavily as some drips down his chin. He puts the photos back in the envelope and into the basket so they don't blow away.

He gazes at you with pure, unadulterated hunger in his eyes. "I love them, sweetheart. You look fuckin' gorgeous like that, and I want you so badly right now. Please tell me you're wearing that underneath your dress." His eyes flick to your body, remembering the garterbelt he observed earlier when you got in the van. It's the same one from the photos, and that realization makes him lose it. "If I believed in such a place, I'd think I died and went to heaven." His voice breaks, he's more revved up than he's ever been now.

"I'm most definitely wearing it underneath. It'd be a waste to only take pictures in it, don't you think?" You're still so cool and collected, despite the arousal spreading quickly between your legs. You're in full control here, with Eddie at your mercy. The power you hold over him right now is intoxicating. "And there's something else. Do you wanna know what it is?" You tempt him with your words, reeling him in even farther than you already have if that's even possible. He nods, unable to say anything else. You bring yourself as close to him as you can, maintaining eye contact as your lips are close enough to ghost over his own. You speak barely above a whisper, making sure he knows just how important what you have to say is. "The panties are crotchless, so you get to fuck me in it." You gently squeeze Eddie's aching cock, drawing more helpless noises from his throat.

"O-okay. It's official, I'm a dead man." He jokes, attempting to regain some semblance of control.

"I'd certainly hope not. I have my reservations about fucking a corpse." You quip back, ceasing your groping. You lead Eddie to lay down on the blanket, the skirt of your dress riding up as you straddle him. His hands grip your waist, waiting for you to make the next move. You peer down at his awestruck face, drinking in how fucked he is for you. You rock your hips against him, gasping as you finally get some of the friction you've been desperately craving all day. You lay your torso over his, placing your hands on his chest. "Happy anniversary, love." You say seductively, pressing your lips against his.

Eddie moans into the kiss, running his hands over your ass. He massages the flesh roughly, leading you to continue grinding on him. Your lips travel down his face, his jaw, landing on his neck. You paint his pale flesh with your cherry red lipstick, smudging it everywhere with reckless abandon. You kinda hope it'll stain him, letting everyone know he belongs to you. Your teeth worry his skin teasingly, and he can't stop letting out the most delicious, pitiful sounds. "Happy anniversary, sweetheart. I love you so much, and, fuck, you're unbelievable tonight." He sighs lustfully, enjoying every little move you make on him.

"I love you too, darling." You say between bites. Your left hand slides to the buttons of his shirt again, undoing every one that remains until the fabric falls open to expose his chest. "And I'm gonna take my time with you." You shift yourself onto your knees, still looming over him. You plant wet kisses on his torso, slinking your way down to his stomach. Your tongue dips into his belly button, and he laughs at the sensation.

"That tickles." He says simply, his head lifted slightly to watch you work. You take the end of his belt between your teeth, pulling the leather to the side to undo it. You unbutton his jeans, unzipping them at an agonizing pace. Eddie's panting as he anticipates your actions, wanting you to take him any way you desire. Your arms stretch upwards, only to drag your nails down his chest. He groans at the pleasant sting. You reach a hand inside his pants, slipping under his boxers to feel his stiff cock. "Fuck." He breathes.

You tease him with your strokes, looking in his eyes. "Do I turn you on, baby?" You ask, clearly knowing the answer. But you want to hear him say it.

"Yes, sooooo much. Everything you do feels so good." You smirk at the confession you've drawn from his lips. It's fun to switch roles, to have him beg you to touch him, kiss him, fuck him.

"What do you want me to do to you, hm? Use your words like a good boy." You kiss his stomach, still jerking his length in your palm.

"I want you to blow me, I love the way you suck my dick." He shudders as he speaks, finding your dominance over him extremely addictive.

"Your wish is my command, Eds." You pull his pants and boxers down to his knees, letting his length spring free. It slaps against his abdomen, leaving a glistening streak of precum behind. You lick your lips, anxious to take him in your mouth. Your eyes flick to his again, noticing he's waiting to ask for something else. "What is it, love?"

"Can you sit on my face while you do that? I wanna taste you, please?" Eddie can't be bothered to even attempt to hide the neediness in his voice. He has to touch you, any way he can.

"Very well, you dirty boy. Do you want the dress on or off?" You ask, as if it's of no consequence to you. You know he wants to see the sexy lingerie in the flesh, but once again, he needs to beg.

"Off, please! I have to see how beautiful you look." He pleads. You chuckle darkly at his broken voice, falling further into your role. Nodding, you stand off to the side to make a show of taking off your dress. You playfully pull the straps from your shoulders, letting them hang loosely at your elbows. You hold the top of the dress, letting Eddie's eyes widen as he waits for you to let it fall to your feet. "Go ahead, Y/N. Show me how sexy you are." He says, almost attempting to take control away from you. You scowl at him, slipping the straps back in place.

"I'm the one in charge here, Eddie. If you can't play by the rules, then we won't play at all. Got it?" You aggressively put your foot on his chest, the heel making a deep indentation into his skin.

He groans, somehow even more aroused by you getting so rough with him. "I'm sorry, I'll be a good boy. I promise." His eyes beg you to continue, he's past the point of no return.

"Good. Now, do you want to see what I've got hidden under here?" You bat your eyes at him, speaking in an unassuming voice.

"Yes. God, yes." He bites his lip, trying his best to lie still and let you take the reins. With that, you give in to his request and let the velvet garment slip down your form to your feet. You step out of it, keeping your heels on. You stand with your hand on your hip, letting him take you in. His eyes scan greedily over the dark lace, tracing how perfectly the set fits your body. From head to toe, he commits your image to memory. "You're perfect, angel." Eddie says breathlessly, you truly are a vision.

You blush at his words and gaze, his admiration for you sends your heart soaring every time. "Thank you, baby." You kneel down, turning your back to him so you can give him what he wants. "You ready?" You ask, speaking between your legs as you position yourself over Eddie's face.

"Always." He replies, noting the wetness gathered on your folds for him. Besides the cunning grin on your face, it's the only real indication that you're enjoying this just as much as he is. You lower your cunt onto his mouth, letting him begin his work on you before taking his dick down your throat. He licks your clit immediately, sending a shot of pleasure through your body.

"Fuck, Eddie." You moan, mouth falling open as his arms wrap around your thighs and his hands grip your hips to keep you in place. You take a moment to enjoy his warm tongue before fulfilling your end of the bargain, he's a total master at giving head. He paints long stripes from your clit to your weeping hole, drinking up your juices as they form. "You're such a filthy boy. Eating me out like this, fucking me with your tongue. It feels so good, baby." Your words make his hands grip your flesh tighter, his rings digging into you which will surely leave bruises. You can't wait to find them when you look in the mirror tomorrow.

Pleasure slowly builds inside you, and you realize Eddie's cock has been helplessly leaking precum this whole time. You lay over his stomach, taking hold of him once again. He twitches at the contact, moaning against your pussy. The vibrations draw more noises from you, and you drown them out by sinking your mouth onto his length in one go. You gag as he hits deep in your throat, and you get to work sucking him just the way he likes. Your head bobs up and down, tongue swirling around his dick with every stroke. Tears prick your eyes from how hard you're going, but you carry on to drive him insane. In return, Eddie lets go of one of your thighs to shove two fingers into you, curling and pumping them expertly. He brushes against your g spot over and over, rapidly flicking his tongue in tandem. "Fuck." He mutters when he takes a second to breathe, your mouth is so hot and wet around him it's almost too much.

To offset the boiling lust in his belly, Eddie picks up the pace. He loves making you cum, it's practically a hobby for him. He's doing everything he can to set you off, and the pleasure is almost too much to bear. You pull yourself off of his length for a moment, unable to focus when your insides are twisting up in strangled knots. You stroke him in your hand to keep him going, but your head rests on his thigh while you feel your orgasm quickly approaching. "You're doing so well, darling. Keep going, I'm getting close." You whine at him, unable to keep your cool any longer. You're still in the driver's seat in his eyes, but at the moment all you care about is feeling that familiar bliss washing over you.

"Mmm." He hums against you, pushing you further. You sense he's toying with you now, and you can't let him get away with it. You push your cunt against him a little harder, and immediately shove your head down onto his cock again. You want him to come undone with you, pulling out all the stops. You're both moaning desperately on each other, competing to send one another over the edge. You're so unbelievably hot in the lacey set, sweat beads across your flesh and the fabric sticks to you like papier-mâché. Tonight is unusually warm, the chill of early spring has morphed into a more temperate climate in preparation for summer. But you keep going, gagging yourself over and over to bring Eddie to his knees, so to speak. The vulgar harmony of wet noises and needy moans fills the still air. Luckily, there's absolutely no one around to see or hear you.

Eddie's stomach tenses beneath you, signaling his oncoming release. He groans so loud against your pussy, the buzz of which sends you flying into your own spiral. Thick ropes shoot down your throat as you scream, while your legs shake uncontrollably and clamp around his head. A thousand tiny explosions erupt through your bodies, shattering the world around you. His hips buck upwards a few times, choking you as his high runs its course. When he's calmed down, you let him slip wetly from your swollen lips. You're still going, Eddie hasn't stopped licking and fingering you. Your juices drip down his face and neck, and he drinks up every last drop he can. Your pussy is sparking from overstimulation, but he can't seem to let up. "Eddie, baby. If you keep going like that, you're gonna make me cum again." You mean it as a warning, but he just takes it as a personal challenge. He goes even faster, hammering his digits into your soaked hole and sucking harshly on your clit. Your nails dig into his thighs, he's sure you've drawn blood. "Oh, fuck!" You scream, quickly taken over by another orgasm. He grunts as you grip his skull between your thighs even tighter than before, and a flood of arousal gushes violently from you. He stills his movements, holding his breath until you release him so he doesn't drown.

You finally let him breathe as you collapse, legs falling to either side of Eddie's face while you're gasping for air. You just lay here, seeing stars in your vision as you try to calm your pounding heart. "You alright, angel?" He asks, lovingly stroking your thighs to ground you. You can't muster a response, your brain scrambles all the possible words into jibberish. "Y/N?" He asks, a little worried that you're not saying anything. He feels your slicked body moving as you struggle to catch your breath, but no words leave your lips to let him know you're okay. He sits up, looking you over. He can't deny it's a rather pretty picture, how obscenely you're spread for him and the satisfied glaze over your eyes. He carefully slips out from under you, letting you recuperate on the blanket. He's not sure how much more you can take, so he pulls up his pants for the time being.

You manage to string a sentence together, blinking hard to clear your sight. "I'm alright, Eds. That was...intense, to say the least." An exhausted chuckle escapes your lips, and you feel his hand stroke your damp hair. "You mind helping me out here? I'm a boneless pile of Jell-O at this point." You ask, turning your head to glance at him. He's smiling down at you, nodding before helping you move. He pulls you into his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you upright. You rest your head on his shoulder, letting out a satisfied sigh. "Did you like that, darling? You were such a good boy for me." You notice his cheeks turning red when you call him that, it's so cute to catch him off guard.

"I loved it, babydoll. And judging by how soaked my face got, so did you." He chuckles, kissing your cheek. "Do you want more? Or are you too tired?" He asks, not really bothered by the idea of taking a break or picking this up another time. Tonight has taken a lot out of you both, it would be nice to just relax and spend time together for the rest of the evening.

"Maybe in a bit, I'm still feeling the aftershocks at the moment." You'd love to ride him in your little ensemble, but you're not so sure you have it in you. "I am feeling a bit thirsty, though." You reach over to open the picnic basket, pulling the bottle of wine out of it. You bring it to your lips, taking a decent-sized swig.

"Jesus, Y/N. Keep up like that and we'll have to sleep it off in the van." He takes the bottle from you, drinking some as well. "Ah, to hell with it. We were probably gonna do that anyway." The two of you pass the wine back and forth, having light conversation as the sun sets on the horizon. You're both feeling the effects by the time you finish the bottle, slightly slurring your words and giggling at every little thing. "I think we might be drunk, baby." He says, laughing at his own words.

"You don't say?" You reply, clumsily pulling his mouth to yours to exchange a sloppy kiss. If you weren't so intoxicated (and honestly just dead tired), you'd be trying to strip him down and hop onto his cock. "Can weeee go lay down in the van, Eddie? I'm soooo fuckin' tired, and I don't wanna get eaten up by mosquitoes." You ask, your tone coming off a tad whiny.

"Suuure, sweetheart. Standin’ up might prove to be a challenge, though." The two of you struggle to get off the ground, with Eddie stepping sideways until he falls over. You burst out laughing, falling to your hands and knees. "Fuck, wheeeen did the ground start slanting like that?" He asks dumbly, panting as he makes a second attempt. You manage to bundle everything up in the blanket, carrying it carelessly to plop into the back of the van. You'll sort everything out in the morning. You climb inside, and Eddie yanks the doors shut. "There we are. Nice and warm and safe from alllll the buggies." He laughs again, almost wheezing as he crawls over to you.

You notice he's still got his shirt wide open, his beautiful chest exposed to you. "You wanna take that shirt off, darling? I figure you'll sleep better without it. And maybe your pants too?" You ask slyly through a hiccup, you may or may not want to gawk at him in his underwear before you go to sleep.

"Youuuuuu just wanna see me naked, you dirty 'lil slut." Eddie slurs at you, smiling like an idiot. "But, I guess I can't blame you. I am unreasonably sexy." He tries to remove his clothes, and you can't help finding him a bit silly in his struggle. You don't want him to rip them, so you assist as best you can. "Thank you, princess. C'mere and cuddle me." He groans, suddenly very needy for your embrace. You've never seen Eddie drunk before, but his begging to hold you close is endearing.

He makes grabby hands at you, and you happily oblige. You turn over to let him spoon you, snuggling against the loose blankets on the floor. "You warm enough, Eds?" You ask, and he just hums in response. "Okay, good. Happy anniversary, baby. I love you." You speak quietly, your eyelids suddenly feel very heavy.

"IIII love you too, sweetheart. Happy anniversary." He replies, squeezing you in his grasp. Tonight has been absolute magic, better than you ever could have imagined. It doesn't take long before you're both knocked out cold, snoring loudly. Visions of your future with Eddie swirl in your mind as you slumber, and you hope someday you'll get to make these vivid fantasies a reality.

To be continued...

#hippiegoth97 #fanfiction #smut #stranger things #eddie munson #hawkins #1980s #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you

26 notes · View notes