#like the -then he became someone who only lived for others-??? so amazing

[bokutosbabe]

If I Could Never Give You Peace

( bllk boys when your secret relationship is leaked by paparazzi)

a/n — wrote this on a whim after listening to peace by taylor swift

content — some nsfw but not explicit, fem! reader, cursing , all characters are 18 or 18+, slight ooc maybe?, some characters are repeated

synopsis — what happens when your relationship is leaked?

⋆.˚✮����✮˚.⋆ ' i'd give you my sunshine, give you my best ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' everyone thought you'd broken up '

listen, you knew dating a good soccer player in high school was a big deal, but you didn't realize how big of a deal it really was when he went pro.

this was the same boy ( now man) that you'd been dating since you were 14, so nothing really changed your views on him. if you could love him through his awkward phase, and he could love you through yours, there was no way you'd break up.

again, you didn't realize that your relationship was such a big deal. it wasn't that the two of you were a secret, it was more of a 'private not secret' situation.

so when the two of you woke up in your shared bed because of just how many notifications the both of you were getting, you knew something was up.

and low and behold, something was wrong. when you opened any social media the first thing you saw was a strangely amazing photo of you and your long-term boyfriend kissing. really, if it wasn't a paparazzi photo, it would be your lock screen.

"aren't we just the cutest?" he asked you, phone thrown back onto his bedside table as if he didn't have a care in the world. (and he really didn't, not in this case)

truly, the only thing that may make him angry in this whole situation is the fact that he got woken up far earlier than his usual routine by all the commotion.

but of course, as he was dozing back off, you were reading the comments, as any loyal significant other would.

soccerluvr45: omg is that is gf from high school? i thought they broke up

okay, yeah. he had a rather public instagram account in high school that his rabid fans had found that had pictures of the two of you, but you'd never broken up?

reading through the many comments, it was like everyone had collectively decided the two of you'd broken up.

"mhm...just ignore it. the pr lady will deal with it." he mumbled as he grabbed your phone from your hands, laying it beside his before wrapping his arms around you.

"go to bed, 's too early to deal with all this."

his fans were silly, if they could see you with this bed-head man right now, they'd see there was no way the two of you would ever break up.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ NAGI SEISHIRO, yo hiori, NIJIRO NANASE, hyoma chigiri

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' pr nightmare '

anyone who knew your boyfriend knew he was...a little extreme.

and unfortunately for you, this also applied when your relationship became public because of a slight slip of focus from the two of you. it wasn't that you were trying to keep your relationship a secret, you'd already been together a year now, but you also weren't trying to out yourselves.

yet, one singular minute when the two of you slipped away to the bathroom together at a soccer banquet...well lets just say a paparazzi was scarily ready to snap someone, anyone's, photo.

so here you were, sitting in a terrifyingly big office with your boyfriend and almost his entire management team.

"do you know what this could do to your reputation?" his manager asked. "it's just two adults doing adult things, they should've been in that bathroom! that would've gotten them—"

"okay, sir..."the pr woman cut him off, ever too enthusiastic to be talking about your private lives.

"you just need to ignore all of this until it goes away, alright? no press interviews after games anymore," she sighed as if this was basic comprehension. (your boyfriend wasn't the smartest but he also didn't need to be treated like an idiot.) "and no posting on any social medias for the time being. do you understand?"

"yeah, yeah. no talking to the grown men after games. and..."he grimaced at the thought of his next condition. " c'mon is posting on my socials that bad? i don't post about us anyways."

"at. all." and the room felt as icy as the pr woman's stare.

"yeah, no, okay i got it. no social media."

after another thirty minutes of this, with them saying basically the same stuff to you (even though you had no real social media presence anyways), you guys finally left.

"no fucking posting? what if i have to talk about a game coming up?" "i'm sure she knows how to do her job, love." you soothed your boyfriend as you got in the car the company arranged to have you two taken up with.

"yeah, well whatever. give me your hand," and who were you to say no to your boyfriend?

he took your hand and placed it on his neck, a place where you could see a few bites and hickeys if you really looked hard enough.

before you could protest he took a picture, posting it on his VERY public account with the caption...

' i love my woman ;) '

before turning off his phone completely.

"let's see them try to get ahold of me now."

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ RYUSEI SHIDO, tabito karasu, EITA OTOYA, oliver aiku

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' what picture ? '

how do two chronically offline people realize their relationship is now under scrutiny by the entire world?

the simple answer is...they don't!

you've never been interested in social media the way other girls your age had been. really, you'd rather just watch a video essay on every little topic that interests you than sit and watch six second videos then scroll all day.

to say the least, fast and forever changing social media just wasn't your thing.

and your boyfriend? he hardly even used his phone. unless it was for business or you, the thing was practically shoved away somewhere he couldn't care less about.

he would rather be reading or spending time with you out on a date...which is exactly the predicament the paparazzi put you in earlier this week.

the two of you were photographed having a little picnic and reading date at a small park that was pretty far out of town, assuming no one there knew, or even cared, enough to take a picture, but alas, someone did.

you and he had spent the rest of your week in pure, relaxed bliss. he had a game on saturday, so besides him going to practice and working out, the two of you stayed inside almost all week to prepare for the rather hectic weekend.

to say the game was a nail biter would be the understatement of the century. after two additional times, it was your boyfriend who scored the winning goal.

of course, you cheered the loudest, not noticing plenty of fans eyes on you unlike how many used to just chalk you up as an ecstatic fan.

as the post game interview came for him, you decided to stay closer to the door just incase it ran short. sometimes it was a one and done for him and others the questions went on for at least fifteen minutes, it just depended on his mood.

of course, the first question was about his game winning goal, but the second one threw him and you for a loop.

" what do you have to say about the photos of you and your reported girlfriend that have come out this past week? "

"...huh? what photos?"

eventually, the two of you did see the pictures, and all you could do was laugh because...how had you two not found out about this?

and you also made the picture your phone lock screen, but he didn't have to know that.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ RIN ITOSHI, reo mikage, SAE ITOSHI, chigiri hyoma

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' but the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

[ + your faves ! ]

i wrote this in about an hour, and i think it shows but i had to get it out of my brain :))

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[celestie0]

I actually kinda like the accidental pregnancy trope idk just two characters learning to coparent and then eventually falling in love is kinda cute 🥹 I’d love to see what you write for gojo I feel like he’d be scared but end being such an amazing dad

gojo x reader | accidental pregnancy trope [drabble]

little miracle. a gojo x reader story

a/n. ok anon i basically started answering this ask very minimally but i couldn't stop myself from writing and it basically became an entire story so enjoy i guess?? LOL my bad <3 warnings/tags. domestic fluff, angst, mentions of sick parent, mentions of death, pregnancy symptoms. there is happy ending!! word count. 2.2k

gojo and you are in your mid twenties but you're both just barely getting by, you're a new writer living in a tiny apartment in a big city and gojo is the cute waiter at your favorite diner who's just saving up some money because he wants to go back to school and you're both kindaaa crushing on each other, flirting w one another. the restaurant gojo works at ends up starting meal delivery option, and you order some pizza to your apartment just so that you can see him on a weekday and he's soooo super cheeky with it leaning in the doorframe entryway of your apartment with the pizza in his hand like "it says here someone ordered a hot guy in some super sexy black jeans, well he's here now" and you're like "you're such a fuckin idiot" and you abandon said pizza to fuck him on your facebook marketplace couch.

fast forward the next day n you wake up, but he's not there anymore. he left you a little note that says he's going away for a month since his mom is sick and he needs to be w her. you're confused by the note, and you wish he left his phone number because you realize you have no way of contacting him. but that's ok, he'll be back soon, right?

in the couple weeks following the night you both hooked up, you're feeling like shit in the mornings, nauseous, you realize you've missed your period but you shrug it off because it was never really normal anyways. but one morning you throw up, confused as hell, wondering if you got food poisoning. but as you swing your legs back and forth in your paper gown, sitting high up on your primary care doctor's examination room bed, they tell you that you're pregnant and you act like you've never even heard the word before.

there's no doubt gojo is the father, you haven't slept w anyone except him in months. and a baby was just...you can barely afford to pay your bills, you're already living paycheck to paycheck since your book isn't even out yet and you're just surviving w the advance from your old job. what the hell were you going to do? and you can't even tell him that you're pregnant, because he's god knows where, stranding you with no phone number to contact him and you feel so left behind and alone.

the first person he comes to see when he gets back into the city is you. he looks tired, probably from his travels, or possibly from what he saw back home w his mom laying sick in bed. but he's still so happy to see you, and he kisses you and tells you he missed you and you stop him to tell him that you need to talk. for him, there was life before you told him you were pregnant, and then there was life after. and now he was living in the after. standing still in the tiny living room of your apartment when you tell him he's the father, and the words that leave your mouth afterwards are drowned out in his head because he can only focus on that one thought at once.

father. he's going to be a father? whatever heaviness he finds in his chest from the word is replaced with adoration when he looks at you.

keeping it, was what you had told him next.

it was tough at first, because of the morning sickness and the hormones and the yelling at him for not bringing you the kfc you craved so badly a minute before he did, and then the crying that follows suit when you realize you're being mean to him. but he does everything you want, everything he knows how, because he doesn't know how to be a dad, and he figures the least he can do right now is know what to do for you. and the thought scares him, to death every day. as he's driving you to your doctor's appointments, he's praying under his breath that you and baby are ok and healthy. while he's waiting tables at work, he puts on his best smile for an extra tip because it's extra money for the baby, because she isn't even here yet and he already wants to give her everything she's ever wanted.

yes, she. a baby girl. you were having a baby girl. you cried when your ob/gyn slipped and told you the gender, because you asked for it to be kept secret, but what hurt even more was that you told gojo he didn't need to come to this appointment. just a routine little check up, not a big deal. i'll just have my friend drop me off, you said. little did you know it was the one where you would find out you two were having a little girl.

oh, gojo knows nothing about girls. would it be different from raising a boy? can he play wrestle w her when she's a little older, or would he have to be gentle with her? would he learn how to make flower crowns for her with daisies from the field just to see a smile on her tiny face? how will he ever be able to deny her anything, especially if she looks just like you?

the second trimester, you two felt like a young married couple, and for once it felt like things were bright. like you two knew what you were doing. like it wasn't a mistake, but a blessing. you wanted him, desired him, and he'd never desired anything more than he desired you. it took you a while to come around to having sex again, it felt wrong, because that was what got you two into this mess in the first place. but those feelings melted away when you two moved into his little ranch together on the outskirts of town and you knew what it felt like to be hugged by him in the mornings, his sleepy voice drawling in your ear about how much more beautiful you look with every passing day. in those moments, all the regret melts away.

it all comes crashing down in third trimester. you're angry, he's tired, you're sad, he swears he's trying his best but he just can't seem to understand what you need from him. you say you wished this never happened, he says he didn't ask for any of this, and you're sobbing on the kitchen floor with your head in your hands because it all just feels like some cruel twisted joke. like a dream you should be waking up from any second from now. he sits down on the cold tile beside you, solemn in the face. he already looks so much older than the bright eyed boy he used to be, twirling a pizza box around on his finger in the doorframe of your apartment. his cheeks have sunk in, and you realize we all die someday. his hand reaches out to hold yours, and he kisses the back of it, and he says he'll never leave. not like how he left all those months ago, with nothing but a note. no matter what it comes to, one thing he can always promise you, is that he'll never leave like that ever again.

when your baby girl was born, nothing else mattered. it's like all the turmoil you faced in the past eight months was not even worth paying a moment's care towards when you cradle her in your arms. gojo had been fighting back tears the entire time, mostly provoked by how difficult childbirth had been for you as he watched feeling helpless, but the moment he held his little girl in his arms, he couldn't fight back the tears anymore. and he cried, and he cried, and he cried. few fathers could treasure their daughters as much as gojo did, and he knows it's a promise every parent makes to their child, but he vowed he'll never let anything hurt her. never let anyone upset her. for as long as he lives, he'll keep all the cruelty away from her, and keep her safe forever. you both named her yuki, for snow drifting outside of the hospital window when she opens her eyes for the first time.

you two make the tough decision that it's best for gojo to go back to school like he originally planned while you take care of the baby at home. it's hard having him away, and it's torture for him too, since he seems to breathe and live just to make yuki giggle and smile. but it's what made fiscal sense, since you knew what it was like to grow up in a household with little money to feed or fend, and the two of you wanted more than that for your daughter.

gojo's mother succumbed to the very illness that had been haunting her since he visited her for a month over a year ago, and he cried to sleep when he realized she only got to hold her granddaughter once before she passed away. and for the first time in his life, gojo learned what it really meant to be a parent, and it was only found in losing his own. there was no time to grieve in the capacity that he wanted to, because he needed to be there for you and his little girl. a year ago, he would've been broken, beaten, and bruised, but now he bleeds only in his dreams, then buries and braves the seasons for the sake of you two. as he slips his shoes off at the front door after a long day, then walks into the dark of the house, turning the corner into your shared room, he sees you humming peacefully while rocking his daughter to sleep. and he realizes his entire world is sitting in that chair.

gojo graduates from his two year engineering program, and lands a job in the city. the same city you left to go live with him when you were pregnant. it was tough to come back to the same city you fled, because all you remember of it now is morning sickness and fear of your career and falling in love with a boy that had a boyish charming smile you knew would ruin you one day. and now he's taken you back, moving the little family you've made together into a house. a house! he bought you a house. it was a little one, with no more than two bedrooms, but there was enough room in your hearts to raise your daughter with love, and that was all she'd ever need. she can walk now, mumble words. she said dada first, and gojo never stops teasing you about it. and when she finally says mama, you felt like your whole heart would burst.

he proposes to you on the waterline of the city's park, at the top of golden hour while the wind is subtle and tame but still ruffles the fabric of your dress. waiter boy, on one knee in front of you, years of waiting tables but he cannot even bare to wait one more second to hear your answer to the most important question he'll ever ask anyone in his entire life.

and you say yes. and he promises he'll love you for the rest of his life.

the wedding is small, because you two decided not to invite all of the family that had become estranged ever since you told them that you were pregnant with a man's child who you weren't even so much as dating. his family became yours after that, with his aunts and uncles congratulating you and yuki's cousins playing with her before she was to skip down the aisle as flower girl. it was sad to see your side of the church so empty, but you could never truly feel empty in this world anymore. not with what all that you've gained in the process.

there is fear in love, and in life. there was fear in gojo's heart when he learned he was going to be a father when he barely even knew right from wrong. there was fear in learning you were going to be a mother when you knew you cannot protect your child from the same hurt that has haunted you for a lifetime. but there was joy too. joy in seeing your baby bump for the first time, joy in holding your daughter in your arms for the first time, joy in seeing a sparkling stone in a tiny box presented to you on a sunday by the boy who still made your heart skip a beat just by looking at him, and there was so much joy in marrying him too.

but you find the real joy comes in the moments that you expect nothing from at all, but they happily surprise you with the feeling nonetheless. like now, as you sit on a picnic blanket at the park and you watch your husband running across fluttering grass in the wind, chasing after your daughter whose giggles and shrieks fill the summer air. he catches her, throwing her up into the air before spinning her around in his arms, and you tuck your hair behind your ear as you watch it happen. you expected nothing from anything life had given you in the past four years, and yet it gave you all the joy in the world. where you could've expected sorrow and sadness, it gave you something beautiful instead. you never would've thought that the boy you locked eyes with through a shy flutter of your lashes underneath warm restaurant lighting, the one that winked at you with no shame despite you being surrounded by all of your friends, you never could've imagined he'd be who he is to you today. but for certain, now, you believe in it. you believe in little miracles.

.

.

.

[the end]

a/n. what the flying fuck. i'm gonna go cry now lmfao.

[serpentandlily]

congratulations on 3k followers!

would love to request Azriel x Reader (Fem!Reader if that’s okay with you), some good ole’ angst ending in fluff please!

Az knows reader is his soulmate and doesn’t say anything, reader either finds out because someone in the IC told her or the bond snaps for her, and she thinks Az didn’t tell her because he’s ashamed of her but really he’s ashamed of himself and thought reader wouldn’t want him.

I know this has been done before but I love seeing different versions of it and know yours would be amazing!!

The Shadowsinger’s Secret

Summary: After years spent trying to befriend the shadowsinger to no avail, you are finally ready to give up after accidentally overhearing him speak poorly of you. But when a gossip session exposes a life-changing secret, you realize you can’t let go of Azriel just yet. 

Warnings: some miscommunication, fluff

A/n: Hope you enjoy this! Thanks for sending in a request and for your kind words!

────────────

Meeting Mor at Rita’s during the time Velaris was warded and locked down had completely changed your life. 

A close friendship had bloomed between the two of you. She introduced you to her two other friends, Cassian and Azriel, when she invited you to a dinner at the townhouse they all shared. After getting over the shock of meeting the fae so close to the High Lord, you were quick to make friends with them—or well, with Cassian at least. 

Although Azriel didn’t seem like much of a talker in the first place, you began to notice the extra ways he would go about avoiding you. Quickly leaving a room with lousy excuses when you entered, avoiding eye contact when he did address you—like when he’d ask you to pass the potatoes since that was really the only time he talked to you, or pretending not to notice you when you would see him out and about in the city. 

At first, you chalked it up to him being severely introverted and shy. Not to mention, all three of them were struggling with the fact that their brother and friend was stuck under the rule of Amarantha. It hurt your feelings, but you brushed it off, figuring he would open up to you over time. But that time never seemed to come even after Rhysand returned. 

The first few months after Rhysand finally came home, you were quick to form a friendship with him despite him being your High Lord. You two shared similar traumas. You both had terrible fathers growing up. He had lost his sister, you had lost your brother—the reason you’d moved away from home to live here. But perhaps the best and most silly reason you got along so well was the fact that the two of you loved to gossip. 

Even after making friends with both his brothers and Mor, Azriel did not warm up to you. He still avoided you. Still made sure to always sit at the other end of the table from you. Made sure to never be left in a room alone with you. And he would never be the one to offer to fly you up to the House of Wind, even when it would’ve been more convenient. 

You were beginning to think maybe he just didn’t like you. And then those feelings were confirmed with the appearance of the Archeron sisters. 

You had seen the way Azriel treated Elain, always offering to keep her company or escort her to places. He sat with her at dinners, listened to her talk about her hobbies, and even defended her when a bad word was said about her. Elain was easy to get along with, sure, but so were you. At least, you had thought you were. But Azriel was making you question everything you had ever thought of yourself. 

He even became friends with Nesta, who had been nothing short of a viper when she first arrived in Velaris. That was when you finally let go of the notion of ever being his friend, ever getting him to even so much as look your way. He didn’t like you. For whatever reason, a reason you were too scared to ask the others about, he didn’t like you. 

You had gone to such great lengths to be his friend. Gave him presents on Winter Solstice, brought his favorite treats from the bakery to leave in the kitchen for him every sunday, tried to converse with him during dinners, included him whenever you invited the group out for drinks. You had tried your hardest and it had been met with pure apathy. You eventually found out that he wouldn’t even eat any of the treats you brought, leaving them all for Cassian.  

That really drove the nail into the coffin. He didn’t even want to touch something because it had been from you. It hurt more than you’d like to admit.

You were currently making your way to Rhys’s office for a meeting about how your mentorship with Madja was going but more importantly, to share the hot gossip you’d heard when two voices caught your attention. 

You paused in your tracks when you heard your name mentioned, glancing at the closed door to Rhys’s personal library. 

“You should at least try and talk to her, Azriel.”

“You don’t understand, Elain.” You heard Azriel respond. “I can’t.” 

“It’s not fair that you're making judgements without even knowing her. She’s pretty, she’s kind—Y/n is a great girl!”

Your heart was wildly beating in your chest, both panic and nausea turning over your stomach. 

“I do know her and she’s not. She's not pretty or kind. She’s not a great girl, she’s—”

You fled before you could hear the rest of Azriel’s response, tears burning in your eyes, chest tight. 

So none of it had been in your head. Azriel truly disliked you. You didn’t know what you did to offend him or make him hate you.

You swallowed, thickly, wiping away the tears that had slid down your cheeks, trying to compose yourself before you entered Rhys’s office. The last thing you wanted was for him to ask you why you were upset.

But you could do nothing about the nausea in your stomach, or the hoarse feeling in your throat that made it hard to swallow. Maybe you’d just drop off the report and scurry home before anyone noticed something was wrong. 

You pushed open the door to his office, keeping your eyes on the floor as you entered and shut it behind you. 

“Ah, Y/n, just the person I was waiting for! You will not believe what I heard Nesta telling—” You looked up when Rhys paused to see him staring at you with concern. “Y/n, what’s the matter? Why do you look so upset?” 

“N-nothing,” you choked out, striding forward and setting your report on his desk. “I���m just a bit tired today. Think I’m going to head home and take a nap.” 

Rhysand stared down at the folder on his desk with a frown before leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “Bullshit.” 

“Excuse me?!”

“I’m calling bullshit, Y/n,” Rhys said, looking at you with a stern expression that was normally reserved for when Nyx acted up. “You stay out all night long with Mor all the time and you’ve never skipped out on our talks! What happened? Did someone hurt you? Who do we have to beat up?” 

You shook your head with a small laugh that sounded as hollow as you felt. “Seriously, Rhys, I’m fine. Nothing happened. I really am just tired.” 

He studied you before nodding at the chair in front of his desk with his chin. “Sit.” 

You bristled at him using his High Lord’s voice to get you to obey, reluctantly taking a seat in the armchair. He didn’t seem bothered by the glare you were sending his way. 

“This is hardly necessary,” you argued.

“You’re not leaving this room until you tell me why you walked into my office looking like a little, downtrodden puppy.” 

“Gee, thanks,” you scoffed at his comparison. “Like I said, nothing is wrong!” 

Rhys only quirked an eyebrow at you and you let out a noise of frustration. “Fine! Look, I just overheard some people talking about me and not all of it was…

pleasant, okay? That’s all.” 

“Who?” Rhys barked out. “What were they even saying? You’re the most harmless person I know.”

You rolled your eyes at his remark. 

“No one important and besides, people are allowed to have negative feelings about me,” you sniffed. “Even if it hurts to hear.” 

“If it was no one important then you wouldn’t be upset. And no one is allowed to have negative opinions about any of my friends except for me,” Rhys leaned back in his chair and kicked up his feet on his desk before giving you a very feline smile. 

You snorted. “Yeah, well, what if it was one of your friends I overheard?”

You regretted those words as soon as they came out of your mouth. 

Rhys perked up. “If it was Cassian, don’t pay him any mind. He’s just mad you beat him at poker last week.” 

“It wasn’t Cassian. It was Azriel,” you sighed. 

Rhys was silent for a moment before he burst into laughter. Your mouth dropped open at his audacity. 

“It’s not funny! I’ve spent years trying to be his friend! I don’t know why he hates me so much.” 

“It’s funny because I know Azriel would never talk shit about you. He doesn’t even talk shit about the people he does hate and he most certainly does not hate you,” he chuckled. “I don’t know what you overheard but it must be a misunderstanding.”

“It wasn’t!” 

“Alright, show me.”

You felt dark claws tap on your mental shield and you let him in after some slight hesitation, letting him view your most recent memory. 

“Hm,” Rhys mused when he was done. “I’m not convinced. You should’ve stuck around to hear what he said.” 

Hearing Azriel’s words in your head again caused a new round of tears. You tried to hold them back, sniffling but it was no use. Rhys sat up straight when he realized just how upset you were. 

“Y/n, please don’t cry. I promise you Azriel does not hate you. I know how awful that sounded but I really think—”

“He does! He’s never liked me! I’ve tried so hard to be his friend, Rhys, and he always ignores me or pretends I’m not there. Every time I try to talk to him he gives me one word answers and runs away with any excuse like he can’t even stand to be around me! I don’t know what I did to make him hate me so much or think I’m an awful person.” 

You wiped away the tears on your cheeks, bitterly. 

“Azriel’s just…shy,” Rhys said, weakly. “Give him some time to warm up to you.”

“I’ve known him for over fifty years now, Rhys! Hell, he’s already friends with Elain and Nesta and they’ve barely been living here for two years. I think if he wanted to be my friend, it would’ve happened already. He just doesn’t like me!” 

The door to Rhys’s office opened right after you finished talking and you stiffened as Cassian strode in. 

“Oh, hey, Y/n, I didn’t know you were in here,” Cassian greeted as he shut the door behind him. He stopped in his tracks once he noticed your tears and Rhys’s grimace. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” 

You groaned, dropping your face into your hands with embarrassment. 

“Y/n is under the impression that Azriel hates her.” 

“No, I know he hates me,” you said, voice muffled. 

Cassian’s booming laughter filled the office, making you sink further down in the chair. What the hell was so funny about this? 

“You think Azriel hates you?” Cassian asked in between his laugh. “Y/n, that is ridiculous! He could never hate you. You’re his mate—”

“Cassian!” Rhys rose, slamming his hands down on his desk. 

Your head sprung up. 

“What…what did you just say?” 

Rhys let out a sigh, pinging the bridge of his nose. “Gods damn it, Cassian. Y/n…you weren’t supposed to find out this way. I’m so sorry—”

“Azriel is my mate and he knows? He told you guys but not me? Why…”

Why? Of course you knew why! He never told you because he didn’t want you as his mate. All the air in the room was sucked out, your face turned hot, your ears started ringing. Your mate didn’t want you. Your Mother-blessed mate didn’t want you. You shot up out of your seat, rushing to the door. 

“Y/n, wait!” 

But you didn’t stop.

────────────

“It’s better this way,” Azriel sighed. “She deserves better than me. She deserves someone as good as her as a mate. She could never want someone like me—I’m not good enough for her.” 

“You should at least try and talk to her, Azriel,” Elain replied. 

“You don’t understand, Elain. I can’t.” 

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair. He couldn’t talk to you because the mating bond might snap in place and then you’d be chained to him forever and that was just not fair to you. You deserved so much more. 

“It’s not fair that you're making judgements without even knowing her. She’s pretty, she’s kind—Y/n is a great girl!”

“I do know her and she’s not. She's not pretty or kind. She’s not a great girl, she’s a saint. She’s not just pretty, she is the most beautiful girl in the world and she’s so much more than just kind. She’s good unlike me. I’ve…I’ve done so many bad things. I’m tainted and if I allow myself to be with her, I’ll ruin her.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself, Azriel,” Elain sighed. “Besides, shouldn’t Y/n be the one to decide for herself if you’re good enough for her? Me and Lucien didn’t get off to a great start but at least he was honest with me.” 

Azriel’s wings drooped to the floor. “You’re…right. It’s not fair to her that I’ve been keeping this a secret all these years. But I don’t want her to feel forced to be with me.”

“She is smart, Azriel, and can handle herself. If she doesn’t want you, I’m sure she’ll be honest about that. But you won’t know until you try. And as much as I love listening to you talk about her—I think I can speak for all of us when I say that you should stop saying this stuff to us and start saying it to her! She probably thinks you hate her with how much you avoid her!” 

Azriel’s chest ached at that thought. The last thing he wanted to do was upset you which is why he stayed away. 

“But—”

“No more buts, Azriel,” Elain said, sternly. “Tell her before she finds out some other way like Feyre did. You know how much that upset her. Rhys is lucky my sister is so forgiving.” 

Azriel swallowed thickly, but rose to his feet. It was about time he faced this, about time he stopped trying to hold his mate at arms length. Even if he felt like he didn’t deserve you, you deserved to know the truth. 

“Okay. You’re right. You’ve all been right and I’ve been a coward. She deserves the truth.”

Elain smiled, nodding her head. “Good luck, Azriel. Just remember if she seems reluctant at first, don’t take it to heart. It took all of us some time before we warmed up to our mates.” 

He gave her a dip of his head before leaving the library to start his search for his mate. What he didn’t expect was you to come barreling down the hallway with tears pouring from your eyes. His stomach turned over at the sight and he quickly stopped you in her path, grabbing you by the shoulders. 

“Y/n, what’s wrong—”

Your eyes widened as you stared up at him.

“D-don’t,” you cried out, shrugging out of his grip. “Please, don’t touch me.”

And then you were off again, disappearing around the corner. He stood frozen in place, debating if he should run after you. But you clearly didn’t want to talk to him. And it was all his fault—the distance he had put between the two of you. 

He made his way to Rhys’s office, pushing aside the urge to run after his mate and find out why you were so upset and who he needed to hurt for causing your tears. 

When he entered, he immediately knew something was wrong. Cassian was staring at him with pure guilt in his eyes while Rhys stood behind his desk, frowning. 

“Azriel, I’m so sorry,” Cassian choked out. 

“Sorry about what?” 

Cassian rubbed the back of his neck, looking like he wanted to ground to swallow him whole. “I might’ve told Y/n that you're her mate.” 

“You what,” Azriel growled. 

Cassian glanced at Rhys who decided to jump in before a war broke out in his office. “Honestly, Azriel, it’s your fault for keeping it from her. She was in here crying because she thinks you hate her. I was trying to convince her you don’t when Cassian walked in and let it slip.” 

“You’re one to talk,” Azriel spat out. “You hid your mating bond from Feyre too.”

“Not for over fifty years! I would’ve told her if she hadn’t found out. I withheld that information for a few months and look how that turned out. How do you think Y/n will feel knowing you hid it from her for over fifty years!” 

Azriel’s wings slumped, his shadows whirling around him in distress. Just the idea of you being hurt by him was enough to make him want to bash his head into the wall. “She deserves better.”

“You’re right. She deserves you,” Cassian said, gently, nudging him with his shoulder. “Maybe this was the push you needed, Az, to finally talk to her.” 

Azriel sighed, bowing his head in shame. “I know, I know. And I will—I will go talk to her.” 

“I recommend starting with an apology,” Rhys joked but Azriel was hardly paying attention, already sending out his shadows to find his upset mate.

────────────

You were sitting on a hill that overlooked Velaris, running your fingers through the grass. This day had gone from bad to absolutely dreadful in the matter of a few minutes and now you were left reeling with the information that Azriel was your mate. A mate that had kept the bond secret from you. A mate that obviously didn’t want you.

He had said so to Elain. He didn’t think you were pretty or kind or great. It all made sense now, how much he had avoided you in the past. He didn’t want you to figure it out, didn’t want the bond to snap for you. You let out a sigh, drawing your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on them.

A light breeze of wind ruffled your hair forward as someone appeared behind you. You didn’t bother turning around, already recognizing that familiar smell of cedar and night-chilled mist. Cassian must’ve let him know that the cat was out of the bag and now Azriel was likely here to beg you to reject him.

“You know, I’ve lived in Velaris nearly my whole life but I’ve never been up here before today.” Azriel’s deep voice broke the silence. “That’s a beautiful view of the city.”

“I know,” you answered, quietly, your voice hoarse from crying. “It’s why I come up here.”

“Do you come here often?” His voice was closer this time and his shadows began to whisk through your hair and under your arms, much like they always did when in your presence.

“Only when I’m upset,” you sighed, blinking away more tears.

There was a moment of silence before Azriel spoke again. “I’m really sorry, Y/n. I did not intend for you to find out about the bond that way.”

“It’s alright,” you said, weakly. “It must’ve been hard finding out your mate is someone you don’t want. I know you’re here to ask me to reject it. I will do as you ask so you can continue on with your life.”

“No,” Azriel spit out quickly, stumbling closer to you. “No, I’m not here to ask you to reject it. I’m here to explain myself…I hate that this has made you so upset.”

He sat down next to you, mimicking your position. You kept your gaze forward, scared to see what you might find if you looked at him. “You don’t have to explain yourself, Azriel. I get it. I, um, I overheard you talking about me to Elain.”

“Rhys showed me what you overheard,” Azriel said, his wings flexing before the one closest to you curled around your form to block the wind. “I wish you had stayed just a second longer, Y/n, because I truly was not saying anything bad about you. I would never—”

“If that’s true then what were you doing? What did you mean when you said I wasn’t pretty or kind or great? What could that possibly mean other than what it seems to?”

“I said that because it’s true. You’re not pretty or kind or great, Y/n. You are beautiful, the most beautiful girl to ever step foot in this world. And you’re not just kind, you’re so much more than that. You are good. You have the heart of a true angel. You are so much more than those three words can describe. I never kept the bond from you because I didn’t want you. I kept it a secret because you deserve someone better,” Azriel confessed.

“And you don’t think you can be that someone for me, Azriel? You’re my Mother-given mate! You want to know something? I’ve always dreamt about finding my mate one day. Hoped that I would get to experience a love like that in my lifetime. And to find out—”

Your voice cracked, tears sliding down your cheeks.

“Please, don’t cry,” Azriel pleaded, taking your chin in his grasp, and turning your head to face him. He cupped your cheeks, his thumbs brushing away the tears. “I longed for the day I would find my mate. But when I finally found you after all these years, I…I didn’t know how to wrap my head around the fact that the Mother blessed me with you. You are so much more than I ever dreamed of. You are all that is good in this world. You bring happiness to every room you walk in. You’re smart. You’re beautiful. The last thing I wanted was to drag you down by shackling you to me.”

“What if it is you that I want? What if I want you to be that person? Did you ever consider that might be a possibility? Because let me tell you something, Azriel. You say I’m more than you ever dreamed of, but you are exactly who I’ve been dreaming of all these years. Someone calm, someone patient, someone good of heart. Someone I can feel safe around. Someone I can call home. What would you say to that?”

“Then I might say you’re an idiot for wanting me,” Azriel chuckled, still stroking your cheeks with his thumbs, staring down at you with those beautiful hazel eyes. “But then I’d probably get down on my knees and beg you for a second chance. To let me prove to you that you have my heart and soul. You have since the day I laid eyes on you.”

You stared up at him, eyes wide with your vulnerability. “And if I agreed to give you a second chance, what would you say?”

“I would say be ready by seven tonight so I can take you out and show you what a girl like you deserves,” Azriel breathed out. “What would you say to that?”

You laughed, the ache in your chest finally soothed. “I would say yes.”

Azriel smiled, a rare and breathtaking sight, before he stood and reached out a hand to help you off the ground. “Good. I was hoping you’d say that.”

You smiled back at him before finally taking his hand.

[lesservillain]

best friend!eddie x reader

cw: SMUT, unprotected piv, pregnancy scare, one sided feelings, sort of sad at the end? an: the prequel to baby daddy!eddie but could be read as a stand alone if you wanted wc: 3.4k

A few years ago…

Music played on the stereo in Gareth’s garage, filling the house through the cracked door that connected to the house. The host himself was passed out on his living room couch, the rest of the boys laughing at him for falling asleep. The only ones left at the party were Jeff, Grant, Eddie and you, the few other guests who came to celebrate their graduations left not long ago.

You rolled your eyes as they placed Gareth’s hand in a bowl of water, a prank that one of them heard would make someone piss themselves in their sleep. Instead of taking part in their stupid prank, you chose to help out with cleaning up. Empty beer cans and other snack bags started filling up the trashcan as you made your way around the kitchen.

“What are you in here doing, sweetheart?”

You turn to see Eddie leaning against the door frame of the kitchen, watching you as you pick up more trash.

“Trying to be helpful,” you say, shoving as much trash into the can as you possibly can. Eddie laughs, pushing off from the frame to walk over to you. He grabs the bag from the can and proceeds to tie it. You smile up at him. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” he says after a moment of looking at you. You get an overwhelming feeling of domesticity as you watch Eddie take the bag out the back door. You watch him through the window as he places the bag in the can. Lighting up a cigarette, he waves at you from the cans, and you feel your cheeks grow hot from being caught staring. 

Eddie was your best friend. Has been since he moved to Hawkins back in 4th grade. The two of you met after you spent the summer in the trailer park where his uncle and your grandma both live in. You rolled with most of the kids there, but Eddie was like a new toy to you. 

He was hard to get out of his shell at first, mostly due to traumas you weren’t aware of at the time. In retrospect, you really pushed him hard, ever persistent in your daily trips to Wayne’s trailer to get him to come out. But when he finally did agree to play with you, the two of you became immediately inseparable. 

Everyone always joked about the two of you spending so much time together, laughing at the grossed out reactions the two of you would have at the mention of the two of you getting married one day. If your grandma was still alive, she would probably be distraught knowing that you had a massive crush on anyone other than Eddie.

After replacing the trash bag, you decide to join Eddie outside. The cool air feels amazing on your skin. The boys don’t have a lot of friends outside of each other, but when all of them start drinking and playing games they seem to generate a lot of heat in such a small space.

“Want one?” Eddie asks as you approach, smoke billowing from between his lips. You nod and he pulls out his pack. 

“Did you have fun?” You ask as he lights the cigarette for you, your hands brushing as he hands it over. The feeling of your skin touching felt like electricity through your hand.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, taking a drag. “I mean, I think it could have been just the two of us and I would have been happy. I’m just glad to finally not have to go back to that hell hole.”

“I’m happy for you, too,” you smile, taking a step closer to him. “Eddie, you honestly have no idea how proud I am of you. Like, I want to shout from the roof tops that Eddie fucking Munson graduated!”

Eddie giggles at your praise, swaying a bit where he stands from the amount of alcohol he’s consumed tonight. He stretches an arm out and you oblige, accepting his tight embrace. He smells like alcohol, weed, sweat, and notes of cheap cologne that he sprayed on earlier in the evening. It was a bit intoxicating in your current state. 

Drinking either made you super friendy or super horny, and tonight you were heading towards the latter. 

You would never admit it, but you’d been watching Eddie all night. There was an air about him tonight. Call it confidence or call it something else, but it was something you’d never seen in him before. It’s like he’s gotten a new found sense of life knowing that he was finally free to do whatever he wants in life. There was nothing left to tie him down and he knew it.

And, maybe unfortunately, it was doing something for you. You’d never really thought about Eddie like that before, your long time crush on Steve clouding your mind when it came to paying attention to anyone else. But something has…changed.

And after a shot or two that you took with a few of his friends from theater class (those kids are wild), everything he did just seemed to be doing something for you. You almost fell over when he lifted his shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead, his stomach that you’ve seen a thousand times on on display looking extra lean and just…

“Hey, are you okay?”

You instantly went from feeling good to being super aware of the way Eddie’s body was touching you. With the way he was holding you, his hand rested just above your chest, almost resting on your breast. The veins in is hand seemed more prominent, the rings on his fingers suiting his hands well.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, letting go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding. When he doesn’t say anything, you slowly turn to look at him. Which was a mistake, because the way he was staring at you took your breath away again. His big brown eyes stared into yours, lidded in a way that made you want to squirm.

“Eddie? Are you good?”

He doesn’t respond, only blinks. His gaze shifts, flickering back and forth between your lips and your eyes and you feel your stomach flip. 

This isn’t how best friends look at each other. Friends don't caress your cheek like he does. They don’t pull you in, making your fronts flush with each other. They don’t start to block out the light from the moon as they lean in. Their lips don’t meet yours, and you aren’t supposed to accept it, kissing them back.

But, before you know it, your kiss turns into kisses. Feverish and hungry, tongues dancing in sync like lovers do. You’re not lovers, but you feel that line blurring as your body is being pulled away. 

The two of you don’t disconnect until you suddenly stop. Eddie is the first to break off the kiss, reaching behind him to open the doors of his van where he pulls you in. You don’t protest, gladly jumping in and pushing him down so that he lays under you. You can tell by the look on his face he wasn’t expecting it. His eyes watch you as you pull the van doors closed.

Once they click together, everything happens quickly. Rushed touches and clothes flying in every direction, the two of you melt into each other.

Your perched in his lap, breasts are pressed into him with arms wrapped around his neck as you almost eat him alive. His hands rub down the expanse of your back until they land on your ass, palming you underneath your panties as you grind down against him.

Eddie is painfully hard under you. For the brief moment that you looked down at him, you were shocked at the size of the tent in his boxers. It was the one thing about him that you didn’t know anything about after all these years. It sent waves to your core that only made you feel things for him you’d never felt before.

In an attempt to speed things up, you let your hand trail down his chest, his stomach, and down past the hem of his boxers. Your brows shot up when you gripped him, his true size in your hand taking you by surprise.

“Mmmm, shit,” he moans under you, and your breath hitches. You watch him carefully as his face contorts in a way that you’ve never seen; a new side of Eddie that you feel privileged to witness.

And then his his hand is on your head, guiding your mouth up and down on his huge cock. Tears threaten to fall down your cheeks with how far down your throat he tries to get you. But you do your best to take it like a champ. Especially with how he praises you.

“Fuck, you’re amazing.” The words fall from his lips like flowing water. He lost the barrier to keep his thoughts to himself as soon as you took your bra off. “Please don’t stop.”

How could you possibly deny him? You can’t. You blow him better than you ever have before, until his thighs are clenching around your head. You were fully expecting him to blow his load in your mouth at this point and you would have let him. But he pops you off of him and holds you in his hands until he can catch his breath.

“Eddie, whats wrong?” You ask confused.

“I’m sorry,” he says with heavy breaths, “Didn’t want to waste this chance by cumming too quick.”

Your heart leaped in your chest at his words, insinuating that he wanted more than just a quick bj in the back of his van. You’d never thought you’d be doing this with him, but in your current state Eddie could tell you to kill someone you would without question.

“Okay,” you say with a nod, shifting your body until you were sitting in front of him. There was an awkward pause as the two of you stared at each other. You waited for him to make the next move but it seemed like it was never going to come. You’re sure Eddie is just as wrapped up in the moment as you, so you decide to go ahead and make the next move.

You crawl towards him until you’re sitting just above his lap. His eyes never leave your face, round and in awe of you as you move closer to him. You place a hand on either shoulder and you can feel how tense he is.

“Eddie, are you sure you want to do this?”

He’s frozen for a moment. Until his head begins to nod so quickly he could have given himself brain damage from the speed.

“Yes, yeah, I am. As long as you are…”

“I do, too,” you assure him. You look around the messy interior of his van for a moment before looking back at him. “Do you, um, have a…”

Eddie’s eyes look like they’re about to bulge out of his head as his face shifts into that of a state of panic. He starts to babble, words incoherent until he’s able to form a sentence.

“I-I-I don’t, um, I don’t have any…condoms.” The last word comes out in a hushed tone, almost ashamed as he admits it.

“Well, shit,” you say, finger coming to tap against your lip as you think. You’d never done it without a condom before, and even if you trusted Eddie, the last thing you two needed was an accident to happen.

“I’m sorry, I just--I’ve never done this, so--”

“Wait, what?” You say, stopping him in his tracks. He looks up at you like he said something wrong and it kills you. “Eddie,” you try and keep your tone as neutral as possible, “Are you…still a virgin?”

Eddie swallows, eyes now looking anywhere but you. Eddie’s never brought up anything about his sex life before to you, but you’d not really been all that open with him for that very reason. But you’d always assumed it was just a mutual respect thing, not that he didn’t have anything to share to begin with.

“It’s okay if you are,” you add, “It doesn’t bother me.”

Eddie looks at you again, though now with cheeks pinker than ever. He sighs, nodding once again, but with less vigor than before.

“Yeah, I’m a…virgin.”

Something inside you flips when you hear him admit it out loud. A giddy feeling inside takes over your thoughts as you come to a realization.

“Do you want me to help you change that?”

You barely recognized your own words, and the look that Eddie gave you told you that it came out just as suggestive as you intended. 

“Are you sure?” He stutters out, “I don’t want you to do it because you feel like you have to--”

“Shhh,” you shush him, placing a finger on his lips. “I’m doing this because I want to,” you say, lowering yourself so that the tip of his cock sits right at your entrance. You feel it jump in your hand at the contact. “You just have to say the word.”

Eddie’s eyes are locked where the two of you touch, his breath hitching as your juices coat his thick head. 

“Please,” he says, still looking between you. “I want to.”

You smile, a heat taking over your body as you realize what you’re about to do. But, you try not to let the idea of taking your best friends virginity take you out of the moment. You had to be in charge here and you didn’t want to let Eddie down.

Without a second thought, you start to lower yourself down on him. He’s bigger than you’ve been with before, so you take your time to work him in since you didn’t get any prep before hand.

“Wait,” he says suddenly, stopping you just as you get the tip all the way in. 

“What, what’s wrong?” You ask, starting to pull off of him. But his hands land on your hips to keep you in place.

“I want to do this. Like, you have no idea how much I want this right now. But, what about the no condom thing?”

You blink, thinking quickly over your options. The two of you are too intoxicated to go and get a condom right now. Plus, he’s already technically inside of you, so what good would one do that pulling out wouldn’t, right?

“Just…when you’re about to cum, just tell me and I’ll get off. Okay?”

“Are you sure?”

“Do you want me to change my mind?”

Eddie mimics zipping his lips, and you roll your eyes at his playfulness.

“Can I continue now?” He nods again, giving you a thumbs up.

You try to get yourself back into the moment by slowly moving up and down, focusing on the feeling of Eddie’s cock inching deeper and deeper inside of you with each movement. Eddie’s head rolls back and you feel his hips bucking subconsciously beneath you. 

You decide not to torment him anymore and fully seat yourself in his lap. He bucks forward, face colliding with your chest as he’s taken aback by the feeling. 

“You okay?” You say with a giggle, though you’re barely holding back a moan yourself at feeling his cock fully stretching you. 

“Mhmm,” he whimpers into your skin, the grip he has on your hips almost bruising. 

“Do you want me to give you a minute?”

He shakes his head. “No, please move.”

And so you do. You take your time at first, really to give yourself ample opportunity to prepare to take him at a faster pace. But with the sounds he’s making, you feel yourself getting wet enough that you can bounce yourself on his cock with more ease. He keeps his face burried in your chest as you move up and down on his cock.

Eddie’s hands loosen on your hips and move themselves up your sides until they land on your breasts. He holds them around his face, fondling and groping as they rub against his face. He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, licking and teething at it softly, sending little shocks of pleasure through you.

All of the feelings were honestly a lot for you to take in. And the more you looked down at him the quicker your own orgasm was approaching. You let yourself forget about his pleasure for a moment as you chased your own high, fully seating yourself to let the thick patch of hair at his base rub deliciously against your clit. You rolled your hips against him and he whined into your chest.

Suddenly, your vision goes white as you feel yourself cumming on his cock. Your body starts to shake, and you’re pussy spasms around him, coating him in your cum.

“Is that you cumming? Holy fuck, I--”

There wasn’t much time to react as your pussy was suddenly being filled. Eddie’s body tenses under you as you’re only just now coming down from your own high. But when you finally realize what was happening, you jump up as fast as you can, head hitting the top of his van.

“Fuck! Damn it, Eddie!”

He snaps out of his post orgasm bliss and jumps up after you, also hitting his head on the ceiling in the process. 

“Shit! Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Eddie’s never been more panicked in his life than right now. Not even when he almost got caught by Hopper selling out in the woods. “I can fix this! I-I-I-”

“Eddie, how the hell are you going to fix this? Fuck me, this is my fault. I should have just said no when you said you didn’t have a condom.”

“No, please don’t be mad,” he says, grabbing your arms and giving you the most pathetic, sad look you’ve ever seen. 

“Do you have any money?” You ask him after a moment.

“I probably have like $3 to my name right now. Why?”

“Shit, I just paid my car payment so I only have like $10. I was going to say we could run to the pharmacy and get a Plan B.”

“What’s that?” 

“It’s like a pill that’s supposed to keep you from getting pregnant. But they’re, like, $20 or something crazy like that.”

“I’ll go to Rick. I can probably get some supply from him and sell it in a couple days.”

“I think it only works like the next day. It’s called the morning after pill for a reason I think.”

“Shit, shit, shit.” 

“What about Wayne?”

“I can’t go to Wayne.”

“Why not?”

“Why don’t you ask your mom?”

You sigh. He had a point. There was no way you could ask your mom without her asking why. And money was already tight so there wasn’t a good excuse to make up for you needing $20 out of the blue. 

“You know what, it’s fine.” You say, convincing yourself that it was. “My period should be coming soon, so I think we’re okay.”

“How soon is soon?” Eddie asks, clearly not convinced.

“Like, in a week and a half? Usually around the beginning of the month.”

Eddie breaths in, then out, head slumping. He drops to his knees before you and you can see his body start to shake.

“Eddie?” You drop down to his level and get a look at his face. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, and it sent an arrow through your heart to see him so upset.

“I’m so sorry.” His words come out watery, his head starting to shake. “I didn’t want this to be how it happened.”

His words hit you like a truck. Of course he didn’t want his first time to be like this. He probably wanted it to be with someone he loved, not with his friend, and definitely not with the possibility of getting you pregnant. 

Guilt washed over you. You should have been the better person and not given in to your sick desire to share something like this with him. 

But it’s too late.

You can only hope that this doesn’t ruin your friendship forever.

than you for reading!

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

First Time (18+)

Bayverse!Donatello x reader

A/N: Damn, I think this is my longest one ever. Big time Donnie love!💜

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

Donatello is more than a little nervous about the thought of having sex with you, not trusting his own abilities, but with some reassurance and guidance from you, he rises to the occasion.

Warnings: A more angsty build up that I had planned, unprotected sex, Donnie having his first time with you💜

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

To say that Donatello was an amazing boyfriend, wasn’t enough to do him justice. He was fantastic! The sweetest and most genuine guy you had ever met. He was attentive and treated you well. Sure, he might be a mutant turtle that lived in the sewer, yet he was the best boyfriend you had ever had. Whether that spoke of your former poor taste in guys, or just the general low bar for human men you did not know. But you knew for a fact that Donatello was one of the best things that had ever happened in your life.

Donatello would say the exact same thing about you. You were not just the best thing that had ever happened to him, but a dream come true. Before meeting you, he had never actually believed that he would get to experience something so good. Just as he had accepted his fate as a lonely mutant turtle that would spend his days alone in hiding with his brothers, you came along and changed his life for good.

The friendship the two of you shared was just what you needed. You may not fully understand everything Donnie had going on inside his lab, but you listened nonetheless, finally giving a much needed ear to his thoughts and inventions. He in turn provided you with a safe space to go to, whenever your life became a little too much.

During those years of friendship you and Donnie grew close in ways none of you had experienced before. Not even his brothers could read him as well as you did, and you in turn had never thought that anyone would understand you as well as Donnie did. So therefore it was only expected that stronger feelings would blossom.

When you and Donnie started dating, it felt natural. Just like your first kiss. It just came naturally to the two of you. No grad gestures and no confusion. Both you and Donnie knew what it meant, and you were just happy to be with someone that understood you so well.

But if there was one thing that didn’t come as naturally to you and Donnie, it was sex. Actually, it didn’t come naturally to Donnie. You didn’t blame him. The poor guy had lived most of his life, convincing himself that sex would never be something he would get to experience. So when you and Donnie started dating and kissing, and the first thought of sex came up, Donnie started overthinking. You were a human that had had sexual experiences with other humans before, and he was a mutant turtle who had his hand as the closest thing to a former sexual partner.

It didn’t mean that Donatello didn’t want sex, because oh boy, did he want to! He was just nervous. Really nervous. It was almost nerve racking to believe that he could actually have sex, let alone with someone as beautiful as you. And you understood. You really did. You took the time to sit with him and talk it through, making sure he felt heard and comfortable, especially talking about a subject like that. What did he feel? What did he fear? What was he excited about?

Other than the general confusion and trauma that came from accepting your fate of loneliness, you learned that Donatello feared not the action of sex itself, but how he would act. More specifically, he was nervous and overthinking, because he did not know what to do. Where should he put his hands? What was he supposed to say? And the thought that haunted him the most; if he didn’t do good, would you leave him? All very valid fears for a mutant turtle, who did not even dare to dream of being with a human.

You took Donnie’s hands in yours and told him it was okay. He was allowed to be nervous and overthink, and he was allowed to not know what to do. You told him that you loved him, and you wouldn’t leave him if he didn’t make you feel good the first time, nor the time after that. Humans too would be nervous before their first time, and it was very normal not to be satisfied the first time.

And after that conversation, you and Donnie slowly started preparing for your first time together. With Donnie being a totally different species than you, he started preparing you for what you could expect. He told you where his cloaca was located and how it worked, along with other parts of the turtle anatomy you may or may not have known already. You in turn did the same. You told him where humans liked to be touched and answered his questions about human anatomy. And it calmed Donnie down. It calmed him down enough, to the point he dared to ask if he could touch your breast.

The make out session that came from that, was one unlike any you ever had had with Donatello. With his hands groping your breast, you were at a shock of naturally good your sweet tech boyfriend was at this. You had expected him to be more unsure, but you soon learned that when he had the confidence he could do anything. Making you moan against his lips while he played with your nipples, this guy did not know what talent he possessed.

This unlocked a new area of your relationship, that you and Donatello carefully explored. Make out sessions became more common, with hands exploring and building up the courage, going a little further each time, until one night Donnie told you he wanted to try.

“Are you sure?”, you asked. You were sitting in his room, you in his lap with your arms around his neck, still breathing heavily after the heated kiss the two of you had just shared. One of his hands was in the back of your neck, playing with your hair, while the other rested on your ass, squishing you through your pants.

“I’m sure”, Donnie answered, watching you through hooded eyes. The hand on the back of your neck crept to the side of your face, letting Donnie’s thumb glide across the corner of your mouth. “I really want to try”.

You nodded your head, biting your lip with a smile, before letting Donnie close the space between you once more. Your lips dancing together as your tongues slowly found each other, letting a small moan escape you, as you felt the vibrating churr being in Donnie’s chest. You had heard that sound quite a few times now, and each time you loved it more and more.

Your hands moved from Donnie’s neck, and down to the top of his plastron, enjoying the feeling of his vibrating chest through your fingers. You moved your lips to his chin, making your to his neck, feeling the hand on your ass pull you closer. Donnie’s breathing was heavy, his chest moving as he felt you work your lips around his neck.

Donnie’s hands found your waist, dipping under your shirt to feel the warmth of your smooth skin against his rough palms. You took this as a sign, removing your lips from Donnie’s neck to take off your shirt. This made Donnie move his hands to your breast, palming them through your bra as you reached back to unhook it. The breathy curse that left Donnie’s mouth once your bra was off, went straight to your core, making you clench around empty air. And Donnie could smell it. The scent of your arousal was strong, making him slightly dizzy.

Donnie nuzzled his head against your neck, pressing kisses against your skin like you had done to him, enjoying every sound that left your mouth and the feeling of your hands on his shoulders. His hands moved from your breast to your pants, where he tried to undo them, only to grow frustrated at the small buttons in his big fingers.

“Want me to take them off?”, you asked, gliding a hand up his neck.

“Please”, Donnie answered, bringing your hips close to him once more.

Donatello watched, with his head resting on your shoulder, through the valley between your breasts, as you undid your pants. Once you got them past your waits he helped you, sliding them off of your legs before throwing them somewhere in his room, leaving you in nothing but underwear on his lap.

“Shit”, he moaned, his heart raising once more as yet another wave of your arousal hit his nose, stronger than before. He hooked his thumbs into the straps of your underwear, his eyes finding yours to ask for permission. Breathless you nodded, lifting your hips to make it easy for him to pull your damp underwear down your legs.

The sight of you naked on Donnie’s lap was enough to make him moan. Your cheeks were already getting pink, and your pupils were just as blown out as his. The best way Donatello could describe the sight in front of him was; hot. So fucking hot.

He kneeled your hips, biting his lips before he asked; “Can I… Will you show me… Will you let me finger you?”

Once again, Donnie’s words went straight between your legs. The way he looked at you and the way he spoke. Needy and so ready to try. You loved every second of it.

“Of course you can”, you answered him, before bringing him in for another needy kiss. You took one of his hands in yours, guiding it down between your legs, helping one of his fingers glide through your folds, letting him feel the wetness that had built up. Donnie shivered, letting a whimper against your lips. You couldn’t help but chuckle, pulling from his lips, finding his reaction adorable.

“You feel that?”, you asked him, letting his finger glide through once more. Donnie nodded, letting out a small shuttering yes. “That’s all because of you, Donnie”. Your boyfriend cursed once more, his face showing frustration and absolute bliss.

You moved his thumb to your clit, guiding him on how to circle his finger around your small bundle of nerves.

“Like this?”, Donnie asked, watching your facial expression as he worked his fingers on you.

“Yes”, you breathed out, arching your back enjoying the feeling of his thick thumb on you. “Just like that, Donnie”.

Donatello bite his lip, watching your face closely, while remembering the things you had told him about the human body. How humans liked to be touched. How you liked to be touched. And with that thought in mind he wrapped his other arm around your waist, holding you close and still, while his index finger glided through your folds once more, before finding your entrance. He slowly pushed his finger in, sighing in delight at how tight you felt around his finger. You moaned, leaning your head back, happy that Donnie had wrapped his hand around to stabilize you.

“Fuck, Donnie”, you moaned, feeling how his finger went further in.

“Is it good?”, he asked, brows knotting together, biting his lips as he felt the familiar feeling from his cloaca, threatening to let dick drop.

“Yes, Donnie”, you moaned, your legs shaking against his. “Please, move them Donnie. Like this”. You held up your hand, showing your boyfriend how to move his fingers inside you. Donnie nodded, doing just as you showed him, moving his fingers in and out of you while his thumb rolled against your clit. You moaned, dropping your head against Donnie’s shoulder. He moved his fingers faster, feeling you move and shake against him, every moan from your mouth sounding like sweet music in his ears. He continued like this, feeling you tighten around his finger, your climax inching closer and closer until you came around his fingers with a loud moan.

When Donnie removed his fingers from your used cunt, he could not resist the urge to bring them to his mouth, sucking them off in front of you. The look in your eyes and the way you smelled told him everything he needed to know. You enjoyed it. All of it. He brought your lips back to his, your tongues finding each other. You moaned at the slight taste of you in his mouth.

Donnie pulled from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, listening to your heavy breathing, feeling it against his face. “Can I do it?”

“Do what, Donnie?”, you asked, your hands smoothing over his shoulders and biceps.

“Can I fuck you?”

You nodded, too stunned to speak. Once again, you had not expected Donatello to be so straight forward, having thought he would be way more shy.

Donnie took your lips in for another kiss while he slowly laid you down on your back. Once your back was flat against the mattress, he started moving his clothed crotch against you, moaning against your lips as he felt himself getting closer to his drop. You whimpered against his lip, almost begging him to take his pants off. Finally he sat up and undid his pants in full view of you. He pulled his pants off along with his boxers, before climbing back on top of you, feeling your legs close around him the best they could, bringing his cloaca to meet your wet center.

“Can I drop into you?”, Donnie asked, his lips ligering against yours, his hands moving from your hips, up your sides to your shoulder, bringing you closer to him.

“Yes, Donnie”, you moaned, buckling your hips against his, causing him to moan, feeling himself tipping on the edge before finally dropping down in front of your entrance. To his surprise, you were the one to move your hand down between the two of you, taking his cock in your hand moving it to your opening before pushing it in closely.

Donatello moaned, his head falling down beside yours, your cunt hugging him tightly as he sunk further in. You kissed the side of his face, whispering sweet nothing as he sunk in as far as he could. He stayed there for a moment, letting you and himself adjust to the feeling of him inside of you. You were a tight fit for him, but he couldn’t deny it felt good.

“Donnie, please move”, you moaned, moving your hips under him. Donnie wrapped an arm under your shoulder so he could bring you even closer to you, resting his forehead against yours once more as he slowly began to move, moaning and cursing in delight over the feeling.

His thrusts started out slow and soft, until you told him it was okay to go harder and faster, to which Donnie obliged. He cursed, one of his hands grabbing on to the bedding beside your head, enjoying this knew feeling around his cock.

“Fuck”, he breathed into your ear, causing tingles to erupt in your stomach. “It feels good, (Y/N). Fucking good”.

Your hand found his face, stroking his cheek making him look you in the eye. The sigh was enough to make both of you shiver.

“Wanna go faster?”, you asked him. Donnie nodded, his lips slightly agasp. “Go as fast as you want to. Fuck me as fast as you want, Donnie”.

And that was all your boyfriend needed. Every trace of nervousness Donnie had showed you during your first conversation about sex disappeared, leaving behind what you could only describe as a feast for the eyes. Donnie was concentrated, his brows frowning, his pupils wide as his muscles flexed before he let loose against you. You gasped and moaned loud, grabbing onto Donnie’s shoulders as he thrusted faster and harder into you. He was rougher than you had thought he would be, but you found it to be a pleasant surprise.

But then Donnie did something you never saw coming for his first time. He took one of your legs, hooking it over his arm before thrust into you even deeper than before. This new angle caused you to arch your back in ecstasy, as he continuously hit the sweet spot inside of you. It didn’t take long like this, before you felt that familiar feeling in your stomach as you clung closer around Donnie.

“Donnie!”, you moaned out, your pitch higher than he ever had heard it before, making him growl in delight. “Donnie, I’m close!”

Donnie did not answer you. Instead he dipped his head down to your neck, where he started nipping at your skin, his hips working against you like a piston. He wanted you to cum around him, washing away every fear he ever had about not making you feel good. And you knew. You knew your boyfriend, and you knew what he was thinking. And as he started groaning and biting your earlobe, you couldn’t hold back anymore, almost screaming his name as you came for him once more.

Donnie moved both hands down to your hips, holding you still as he started chasing his own high, helping you ride out your own in the meantime. As he moaned louder and louder as he got close, his thrust became more and more erratic. Finally he came, pushing himself all the way into you as he shot out his white ropes, letting out a moan better than porn star you ever heard.

Once down from his high, Donnie pulled out of you, before slumping down next to you, sweaty and out of breath, his dick still out in the open.

He looked at you, his eyes tired yet full of love, making you feel warm in so many ways. “Was it good?”

“Are you crazy?”, you asked, smiling brighter than any stare Donnie had seen. “It was amazing, Donnie!”

Donnie chuckled, wrapping an arm around you to pull you close against his plastron, giving you a kiss before resting his forehead against yours once more, a smirk spreading on his pretty lips. “Does that mean you’re up for another around after a quick nap?”

[marvelandponder]

one amazing thing about the Owl House finale is that it finally contextualized for me one of the central metaphors of the show. Spoilers for the series finale Watching and Dreaming ahead.

we good? no one spoiling themselves? beauty

for a long time now, I thought we had a pretty standard coming-of-age metaphor dichotomized by the show's central antagonists. you've got your protestant witch hunter Belos who introduces a maturity and ugliness to Luz's narrative; he clearly represents a particular, restricting form of adulthood, and just when Belos becomes his most threatening, boom, enter the Collector, Luz's dangerously naïve inner child to ruin all her development on the Boiling Isles. Seems simple enough

what I didn't anticipate was just how specific and personal their roles in the story actually are to Luz once you have the full context from the series finale

look again

this story - this whole series - is about the grief that a neurodivergent kid experienced at a young age, introducing the cruelty of loss and adulthood before she was ready to handle it. and, how to reclaim a more whole understanding of herself as she rebuilds her life with people who get her

Belos is designed to infect the titan carcass like a disease. a cancer. it's super goddamn significant that the titan is King's dad (King, who became Luz's younger brother). they set up Belos not just to be another fascist kids' cartoon villain (although yeah, he do be doing some of that), but to specifically become a force that oppressed the weirdness from the one place that understood Luz. the Iles. the dad. And by the end of the story, Belos's goopy body-horror isn't just for show, he's just like the cancer or other terminal disease that took Luz's dad from her

he's the thing Luz hasn't processed in season 1 that comes in at the end like a warning. he's the threat that forces Luz to grapple with her own humanity, feeling somehow (often completely unjustifiably) harmful to those around her, through the grief she doesn't want to be a burden or the weirdness (neurodivergence) others don't understand. he's the force that says there is something wrong with you, Luz, give in to your grief, this is what you can't face. this is the lie you've been telling to those closest to you: that you're okay

then you have the Collector. (notable that he's a collector, and we see Luz's mom and dad had quite the collection of nerdy memorabilia)

the Collector is the child too young to understand death. Too young to understand consequences, or why their playmates don't feel like playing anymore with someone so weird and maybe a bit too involved in their own world. The Collector is Luz's inner child, that kid we see right before the "worst week ever" — the one who didn't and couldn't understand what was about to happen even as it was going down. unapologetically weird, a bit destructive and short-sighted, but wholly colourful, wholly themselves. that's why the Collector wants to live out Luz's adventures, but without all the depth. just the fun escapist fantasy

but don't think I forgot the internal conflict! :D

because Camila's role also gets an added depth too: Camila was framed at the outset of the series as someone who loved Luz, but wanted her to fit inside a box that she just didn't. later, Luz completely misconstrued her mom's breakdown when she learned that Luz chose to run away. as many people have pointed out by now, Luz misremembers the actual dialogue that Camila says: Camila only wanted her daughter safe, not to lose her. Luz meanwhile felt like she had to choose to destroy this part of herself, or give up her connection with her mom altogether

but we know now Camila actually deeply relates to Luz. she may not understand Luz's fascination with horrific things like on the boiling isles (very akin to a kid getting more grim hobbies in the wake of a death, like Luz's taxidermy), but she loves Luz for who she is. all of her. she never wanted Luz to change

Luz was the one framing the central conflict of the show as go back to her mom or stay in the boiling isles. Luz was the one who felt like she had to punish herself by rejecting the one place where she felt like herself. once Camila realizes what's been going on, and how deeply connected it is to the loss of Luz's dad, she knows Luz is trying to make a "very bad choice for herself." And she won't let that happen (what a great mom!!)

But Luz does have one real choice ahead of her

because of the inner child who once again has to confront death (this time, Luz's own), Luz is able to connect with a father figure, the titan, the one place she feels understood. in the form of a power-up that makes her into a fantasy witch straight out of the Good Witch Azura, the one place she got joy after that huge loss, the titan gives her the strength to face the cancer—a force draining everything good in her life from her and making her question she deserves it in the first place—but only if she can choose herself

and that means choosing happiness, choosing found family, choosing love and friendship and self-discovery in the place she feels most at home! every bond she's forged, everything she's worked for, it all comes down to choosing to face grief and move on in life with weirdos who stick together.

hoot hoot, that's some good metaphor

[thewalrusespublicist]

So didn't realise that people didn't know about the John Lennon 1980 'dear one' thing. As we're all here though I wanted to mention that the phrase 'my dear one' potentially has a bit of a story arc when it comes to John's relationship with Paul. For those familiar with British English, 'my dear one' sticks out as it's not a used term of endearment at all. So where does it come from? It could be a non-straightforward Victorian throwback, but more likely its hearkening to the use of the phrase in Eastern meditation to denote your nearest and dearest. Great, already off to a sweet start (and lines up with Yoko having Paul on the next-of-kin list with Julian and Mimi when John died).

It POTENTIALLY gets a bit more layered than that though once you add in the idea of hugging meditation. Contrary to what Paul says (sorry Paul, I do believe you on most things, just not this) despite being 'Northern men' TM the Beatles were a huggy bunch. John mentions it in the 1967 Hunter Davies interview:

''We used to be embarrassed about touching each other. We’d do an elaborate handshake just to hide the embarrassment… or we did mad dances. Then we got to hugging each other. Now we do the Buddhist bit… arms around. It’s just saying hello, that’s all.''

As pointed out in @thecoleopterawithana and @monkberries amazing posts, the Buddhist bit is hugging meditation which became popular in the 1960s. In hugging meditation, you

''have to make him or her very real in your arms, not just for the sake of appearances, patting him on the back to pretend you are there, but breathing consciously and hugging with all your body, spirit, and heart. Hugging meditation is a practice of mindfulness. “Breathing in, I know my dear one is in my arms, alive. Breathing out, she is so precious to me.”''

We know physical touch was important to John. One of the plusses of being with Yoko was being affectionate with his best friend, he tells Paul that touching is good whilst hugging him and in the Get Back sessions he delightedly asks Paul about a vivid dream where he was touching Paul (whether platonic or romantic this always read to me as a blatant subconscious desire for increased intimacy with Paul). The desire for intimacy is still present in the 'Real Life/Love' demo in 1977 where John muses about holding a mysterious has-a-baby-expecting-another-lives-on-a-farm someone in his arms as if it was only yesterday (another piece of media I still cannot believe we have on tape).

With John's evident desire for physical intimacy in mind and the focus on holding dear ones in hugging meditation, I don't think it's too far to think that John would associate this term of endearment with a certain level of both physical and emotional intimacy. Whether its a slightly bittersweet ironic recollection of those times together in the late 60s or a sincere statement of their current relationship, Paul as his dear one could be seen as continuation of John's suppressed, resentful but ultimately present desire for reignited intimacy with Paul on multiple levels (again romantic? Platonic? Choose-your-own-adventure there, I'm not in charge of you).

Or I could be talking shit. Who knows? It's just fun to think about!

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch. 27]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 4.4k

ao3 link

Police Arrest Three After Mass Protests in LA County

By C. Grant

Three people were arrested in Pasadena, California yesterday after a crowd gathered to protest the death of Sheila Pom. Police say the three individuals, whose names have not yet been released, appeared to be Enhanceds attempting to agitate the crowd. Witnesses claim one of the individuals was creating sparks with their fingers and threatening to start a fire, while the two others encouraged the behavior. Police have made no comment about these arrests and all questions about the incident have been redirected to a now defunct phone number. 

Sheila Pom was killed in an officer-related shooting two weeks ago after neighbors reported her as a Dangerous Individual under the new Sokovia Accords Act. Pom, 23, worked at her uncle’s auto body shop as a mechanic while also attending online classes to get a degree in Engineering. She was also a telekinetic - someone who can move objects with their mind. 

Pom was known to not be shy about her gifts. Pom was seen frequently lifting cars and trucks within garages without the help of equipment and is rumored to have once righted a tipped over semi-truck. Neighbors became concerned when Pom began using her gifts at home.

“We’d come home, and things would be floating up and down the street,” one neighbor said.

Another claimed Pom was unstable, and when she would become upset, things around her would begin to shake.

“I thought it was an earthquake until my TV hit the ceiling,” a source who lived in the same building Pom told GKTV, “I learned the next day her boyfriend broke up with her.”

Officers were called when Pom refused to return a motorcycle to the ground while working on it in a residential neighborhood. After a brief standoff, officers fired two shots, striking Pom in the head, and killing her. 

Pom’s family claims she was unaware of the officer’s presence, as wireless earbuds were found near her body after. Pom was known to listen to music to block the noise of machines. 

Protests began after the officers involved in the incident were cleared of any wrongdoing. 

----

A full-page ad takes over your screen, and instead of continuing to read the depressing article, you close the tab.

There has been a palpable unrest in the news cycle the past week that is starting to leave you with an uneasy feeling in your stomach. You’ve noticed a shift in the general narrative tone and terminology used when discussing people who have superpowers. 

Before Sokovia, before Lagos, before Connecticut, the morning shows would bring on people with amazing gifts and gently joke about them joining the Avengers as they made water fly around the set, but now those same hosts debate if they should be allowed to have the right to privacy. ‘Enhanced Peoples’ has been shortened to just Enhanceds and is now spit out like it is something dirty. 

You don’t know when the conversation stopped centering around heroes and vigilantes and started being about everyday people, but it scares you that the change happened. There seems to be no official power scale about what is deemed ‘dangerous’ and your mind keeps zipping all over the place trying to justify different lines of thinking.

Does Matt fall under the category of Dangerous? 

He is a vigilante, so by default the Accords are directed at him, but is it doubly so? If he was forced to reveal himself to the government, would they require him to wear a tracking device? Or would they try to lock him up?

Could he fight it in court, or would they whisk him away in the middle of the night and you’d never know what happened?

If Matt is deemed Dangerous because of his senses, and not just because he is a vigilante, would Minnie be considered the same?

With how intense and angry everyone is becoming you could see yourself having to take her in to be tested.

To be monitored. 

And she is just a baby. 

You can’t imagine how others must feel - people who are older, who are just trying to live their lives. The girl who was killed was just trying to fix her bike, like millions of other people do every weekend. She wasn’t going to other countries to fight terrorists. She wasn’t trying to use her powers to rule over others. She wasn’t hurting anyone.

But she was different, so they killed her.

“Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! I need help!”

You’re ripped from your spiraling thoughts and look across the room to where Minnie is sprawled out on the floor. Her Starkpad is in front of her, and she’s set up Pig and Scooby so they are also peering down at the device and you know exactly what she is doing.

It is the same thing she has been doing for a week straight - playing a bootleg Muppet’s math game. 

Since meeting Spider-man, all your little Mouse has wanted to do is learn math. She keeps saying she wants to impress him and make him proud, and you are in no way going to discourage her. Every day has been filled with counting and addition and subtraction and you are a bit amazed she has stayed so focused. 

You are not going to complain at all about it - you are getting time to yourself while she has been glued to Elmo and Kermit. 

You leave your phone on the dining table and head towards your daughter.

“You need help?” you confirm as you crouch beside her. The screen shows a Muppet you don’t recognize, along with various numbers floating around them, and up at the top, the equation that has your little Mouse stumped. 

“I need help!” Minnie repeats as she scrambles up off her belly and into sitting. “I don’t have enough fingers!” 

She holds up both her hands to show you all ten of her itty-bitty fingers and you make a sympathetic noise. 

Mouse has been getting pretty good at using her fingers to help her with addition and subtraction, but on only one hand. She uses the index finger on her right hand to help count by pointing at each finger and hasn’t quite worked out she can use her fingers to point and count. That is okay, though, as you are happy to lend yours to her important cause. 

“Okay, how many fingers do you need?”

You hold out your hands and she instantly begins to manipulate them. 

“This one…this one needs three! One, two, three!” She pushes your thumb and index finger down so the other three remain up, then she pushes down the pinky of the other hand. “And this one is four!”

“So, three and four? What are we doing with three and four?” You ask, trying to not laugh at her determined face.

“We adds them!” She chirps, before starting to jab at your fingers, “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven! That’s seven fingers! Mommy, it’s seven! Three plus four is seven!” 

“That’s right, it is seven. Which number is seven?” You direct her back to her game, where she triumphantly picks the correct symbol. The Muppet congratulates her before presenting a new equation. 

Minnie squeals in delight before ripping the device off the ground and shoving it in your face, “I know this one! Mommy! I know this one! It’s three! Mommy! It’s three!” 

You can’t even process what the question is before the screen is out of sight. Your daughter holds her Starkpad above her head, treating it like some war prize as she starts spinning and dancing around the living room. 

“It’s three! It’s three! It’s three!” 

You laugh at her antics, heartwarming at her pureness. How could anyone ever think she’s a danger?

“Are you sure it’s three?” You tease as you watch her. 

She whips around to you, eyes scrunching up into a glare, and barks, “It’s three!”

“Okay, okay, it’s three.”

You push yourself up into standing just as Mouse returns to her spot. She drops her Starkpad to the ground a little harder than you would prefer, but that is why it has a big bulky case. She plops down in front of it and happily smacks the number three that is floating around the screen.

You let yourself watch her for a few seconds, silently bombarding her with all the love you feel for her. You want to wrap her up and live in this bubble forever.

Except, there is one element missing from your perfect moment. You wish there were a pair of arms wrapped around your waist and a chin on your shoulder. You want to lean back against a muscular chest and lose yourself to eternity like that. 

Instead of indulging those thoughts, you tell yourself to stop fantasizing and you make your way back to the kitchen to check on dinner.

Vegetable curry has been simmering on the stove for most of the day. It has been a while since you had the energy to make the dish from scratch, but you had a craving this morning and went all out. You’ve made curry for Minnie before, and she did not complain - though you think that is because her portion was mostly rice and hot dog cuts. You plan to do the same again tonight, and if she wants more sauce, you’ll give it to her. 

You check your seasonings and give everything a stir to make sure nothing gets stuck at the bottom of the pot. The rich aroma tickles your nose, and you are glad you don’t have to wait much longer to treat yourself.

As you debate adding a pinch more salt, you catch Minnie sneaking towards you out of the corner of your eye. Her movements are slow and dramatic, and you pretend you don’t notice her. This ruse works, and you appropriately jump in fear when she suddenly tugs on your shirt.

“Up!” She demands and you oblige, scooping your daughter onto your hip. As soon as she is high enough, she cups her hands around your ear and leans into whisper, “Daddy saids the food smells yummy-yummy.”

She quickly dissolves into giggles, and it is infectious, so you end up smiling. 

Matt hasn’t been over for dinner in a hot minute, and you are hoping to have a nice quiet family night, before he goes out on his Patrol. The plan is to watch a movie after your meal and Minnie has already prepared for this by dragging multiple blankets out to the couch. You just know she is going to demand a cuddle pile, and now that you and Matt are intimate, it isn’t something you are nervous about. 

You just want to have a good time.

“Can you tell Daddy everything is almost ready?” you ask, even though you know Matt can probably hear you just fine. 

Mouse, always eager to be helpful, nods and relays the message directly into your ear. You try to not grimace, and so it won’t happen again, set her down on the ground. 

“Can you plug in your Starkpad so it can sleep for the night?” 

She streaks off to do her newly assigned task, leaving you to start setting the table. When you were at the store, you bought Matt a bottle of beer - a brand you know he likes - and you set it at his designated spot. You’ve grown accustomed to just drinking water and juice, but you don’t want to push that on to him - not when he’s a guest and coming over after a long day of work. 

As you start to make everyone’s plates, you hear the water in the bathroom turn on. You know Minnie knows the routine for getting ready for dinner and you just hope she isn’t trying to wash Scooby’s paws again. You are worried he’ll end up moldy and you aren’t sure what you will do if that happens. You peek into the living room and are relieved to see your daughter’s best friends have been relocated to sitting on the coffee table, facing the television. 

You finish setting everything up just in time, it seems. Minnie runs from the hallway right to the door as you go to wash your own hands, and you rush to get all the soap off so you can help her open the door. 

Matt is standing on the other side, looking handsome as ever in a gray suit. He looks like he’s had a busy day - his hair is windswept, and he is sporting a strong five o’clock shadow. There is a garment bag draped over his arm and his saddle bag looks a little bulkier than usual and you wonder if he ran some errands on his lunch - picking up his dry cleaning and such. 

You barely have time to take in his appearance before Mouse is launching herself at him.

“Daddy!” She shrieks and Matt oh so easily swings her up onto his hip. “Daddy! We’re having vege-tuhble kermies for dinner! I helped make it! I cut up ALL the carrots! By myself!”

“By yourself, huh?” Matt confirms, a bright, warm smile taking up his entire face. “Soon you’ll be making us dinner.”

You step aside so he can come in and help to take his things to hang while Mouse soaks up his attention. 

“No! Mommy makes dinner because…’cause she makes the bestest foods. I just help!”

“You are a very good helper,” you interject, “You keep a very clean workstation. A professional chef would be proud.”

Minnie beams at the praise, then a microsecond later, is wiggling in to be let down. Her feet hit the ground and she takes off running back toward the living room, probably to collect something to show off to her Daddy. 

Matt takes the small break to turn his attention to you. A hand goes to your cheek, and instead of a brief ‘hello’ peck, he kisses you like he wants to turn and pin you to the wall. It catches you off guard, but you easily melt into it. You clutch at the lapel of his suit jacket and try to not moan as he nips at your lips. You open your mouth for him, but being the tease he is, he pulls back just enough to whisper against you.

“Been thinking about that all day.” 

The words send your blood rushing - some north to your cheeks and the rest to your cunt. 

He’d been thinking about you? About wanting to kiss you? Or has he been thinking about more than that - because you must admit, you’ve been thinking about it. You’ve had more than a few thoughts about what you want to do to him the next time you two are alone together and those thoughts were certainly very explicit. 

“Matt…” you totally do not whine out but instead of replying, his grin just turns cocky. He pulls away as Minnie returns to the entryway, and you decide you need a drink of your water. You escape and Mouse starts showing off her latest masterpieces to Matt. 

Food coloring, cotton balls, and popsicle sticks have proven to be a massive hit and Minnie has made a whole collection of things for Matt - there’s butterflies and flowers, a house with clouds, and various abstract pieces. You are sure his office is already filled to the brim with his daughter’s art, and you would not be surprised if he started to hang things from the ceiling when he does run out of room. He seems to treasure every little thing Minnie has given him and it warms your heart so much. You hope that love never runs out. 

Somehow, Matt ushers Minnie back to the dining room while she shoves different papers into his hands and gets her up in her booster seat. 

“I’m going to put all these in my bag, so they don’t get dirty or lost, okay?” He tells Minnie, who nods way too enthusiastically. 

“Keep them clean!”  And then, just like that, she switches from being excited her Daddy is there to being a hungry toddler. She whips around to face you and asks in an almost impatient manner, “Can I has my hot dogs now?”

You give her the go ahead as Matt returns to the table and takes his place. You quickly tell him the placement of everything, including his beer, then quickly add, “If you don’t like it, I have a few different things I could make you. Or we could order something.”

A brief panic runs through you when Matt scoffs. You think you’ve insulted him - having him come all the way to Chelsea to eat a dinner he won’t enjoy and having to find a substitute. 

“I love curry and this smells delicious. I wouldn’t trade it for the world - in fact, I’m hoping some of those leftovers on the stove are for me to take home and lord over Fog tomorrow.”

You flush at his sweetness and mumble out you’ll pack him some to go. This seems to please him, and he starts to dig in. Ever the little parrot, Minnie mimics him by shoveling food into her mouth with a big grin and you can’t help but laugh a little. 

“It’s nummy!” Your little one declares, and even if she’s just eating plain rice right now, you’ll take it as a win. You know well she won’t eat what she doesn’t like.

“Speaking of yummy,” Matt starts, slow and deliberate, with his head angled towards you, “I was hoping we could go somewhere yummy together.”

You blink slowly at the statement, rolling it over in your mind and trying to dissect the meaning. Did he want to go somewhere for dessert? Maybe get ice cream or something? “Somewhere yummy…?” 

“Mhm,” he hums, then his smile becomes a bit more sly. Even though you know it isn’t true, you feel like, behind his glasses, he is hungrily looking you up and down, “Somewhere like Uvas.”

The name doesn’t automatically generate anything for you, but after a moment, it dawns on you. Uvas in a Spanish restaurant near Central Park known to be high end and impossible to get into. It’s been in the local tabloids a few times for turning away minor celebrities who don’t meet the dress code. You’re mouth parts slightly in shock.

“What’s Oo-vuhas?” Minnie asks around her fork, her big eyes looking between you and Matt. “Do theys has yummy foods?”

“Oh, they have yummy food,” Matt teases. He then leans forward a bit in his seat and stage whispers to her, “It’s where I want to take Mommy for a date.”

“A date?” Minnie scrunches up her face at the word while your mind is still spinning. 

Matt wants to take you on a date? To Uvas? You have never been anywhere that fancy or expensive as a date. Hell, you’ve never been somewhere that fancy, period. The nicest date you’ve ever been on was Hard Rock Cafe - which says a lot about your dating life.

“A date,” Matt confirms, smug and knowingly scheming. You can hear it in his voice as he tells Minnie, “That is where Mommy and Daddy go and have dinner together as grown-ups.”

Up goes Minnie’s hand into her mouth, but it stays there only a split second. Her eyes get impossibly bigger and filled with wonder, and she whispers, “Like Lady and Tramp?”

“Exactly like Lady and Tramp.”

“Mommy!” Minnie says a little too loudly, pointing her fork at you. “You gotta go to Oo-vuhas and be Lady and Tramp! You gotta!”

And at that moment you know you can’t say no, and that Matt knows that. You can’t tell your daughter you don’t want to be like Lady and Tramp. Not that you don’t want to go on a date with Matt - the idea gets you giddy and makes your stomach flutter - but you thought if it happened, it would be a coffee or something. Not somewhere where you can’t even afford to look at the building. The idea makes you a little nauseous, because you are sure you’d make an absolute fool of yourself.

But Matt looks determined and sure of himself. You are certain he asked in front of Minnie so that she could help bully you into saying yes to such a lavish date. 

Luckily, your mind is working in overdrive, and you choke out, “I don’t have anything to wear. They have a dress code, don’t they?”

You don’t expect Matt to push his chair out and get up. Your throat instantly tightens up and fear shoots up your spine. Have you offended him? He clearly wants to do something with you and you’re over here hesitating. You must be coming off as a complete bitch. 

You start to stand up yourself as Matt disappears into the entryway. You don’t think he’d just leave without saying goodbye to Minnie.

Maybe you can talk to him - explain that somewhere a little less grand would be ideal to start.

Before you can start to follow him, Matt is coming back to the table, holding up the garment bag he brought with him, still looking like the cat that got the canary. 

“I thought you might say that,” he starts, his voice almost a little musical, “so I got you this.” 

You stare dumbly at him, shock and confusion overtaking your system. 

He got you something to wear? To Uvas? 

No one has ever bought you clothes before - except your parents. Even when you were pregnant, the small amount of gifts you got were all for Minnie. 

You distantly hear Minnie start saying something about presents, but it is all muffled under the sound of blood pumping through your ears. You step forward hesitantly and reach out for the zipper of the bag, your hand shaking slightly.

You expect it to be a joke. You’re going to open the bag and there’s going to be a clown costume inside, or a skimpy dress people like arm candy to wear, or something akin to a Burka. 

You don’t expect a black floor length sheath gown. The silhouette is simple, but you can tell just by looking at it the quality of the dress is top notch. The fabric has a nice weight to it, and it is incredibly soft to the touch that you have the distinct feeling that it did not come from a dress warehouse or a department store. 

This type of dress would come from a boutique uptown and would cost a few hundred dollars. 

You are so caught up in admiring the dress, you don’t notice Minnie come up beside you until she is also touching the dress. Panic that she might have crumbs or curry on her fingers runs through you, but you force it down.

“It’s like a princess dress for Mommy!” Mouse cooes and you feel your face start to heat up.

You’ve never worn something so nice before and certainly nothing that would be fit for a princess, but it seems like Matt and Minnie are on the same page.

“Well, I want Mommy to feel like a princess.” 

You want to hide your face, but you know you can’t, so you cover your mouth instead.

“Matt, this is beautiful. But this is so much, I can’t accept this.” 

You know that while Matt is a lawyer, he’s still struggling a bit financially. If he had his way, you know he wouldn’t charge anyone for his services, and even though Nelson, Murdock, and Page has paying customers, they still have to stagger out their bills. 

He shouldn’t be spending his hard saved money on you. 

Matt sighs your name before gently draping the garment bag over the back of his dining chair and stepping towards you. Both his hands go to your waist, and you freeze up as he steps close enough to press his forehead to yours. Your heart begins to wildly beat when his hands slowly begin to rub your sides. 

“Let me spoil you. To make up for all the dates I’ve missed. Please?” His lips dip into a small frown and you feel like you’ve kicked a puppy. 

He’s gone out of his way for you, and you are being so ungrateful. 

But it is so hard to say yes. Guilt is pooling in your stomach, and you just want to disappear into the shadows and be forgotten about. That is so much easier than Matt holding you, saying such sweet things.

You don’t want to ruin everything. 

You close your eyes as you have a war inside yourself. All you have to say is ‘Yes’ and you’ll make Matt happy, but the monster inside of you keeps dragging your mind into a pit. 

Matt wants to treat you like a princess, but how crushing will it be when he decides that is no longer the case? Can you take that?

The corners of your eyes start to sting and your monster starts to mock you for getting worked up over something as simple as being asked on a date. 

Why can’t you be normal?

Why can’t you accept this?

Why can’t -

The thoughts cease as Matt’s lips press against yours, soft and sweet and tempting. You respond hesitantly.

“Let me take care of you,” he breathes into your mouth, making you shudder. “You deserve it.” 

“You deserve it!” Minnie chirps from beside your knees and you very suddenly remember where you are and what you were doing. You try to pull away from Matt, thinking Minnie hasn’t seen the two of you like this yet, and it might confuse her, but he keeps his hands firmly planted on your hips, not letting you go. You don’t try to fight it, instead, you turn your head away, trying to hide away in your shell. 

You know there is no way you will win this. Matt is determined and he clearly has Minnie on his side, so, very hesitantly, and feeling like you are going to throw up at any moment, you nod into Matt’s shoulder.

“Okay.”

Mouse lets out a deafening cheer and you feel her dart away.

“LADY AND TRAMP! LADY AND TRAMP! LADY AND TRAMP!”

Matt laughs at her excitement over something she doesn’t understand, while you tuck yourself into his hold, wondering how long you have before he ends up shattering your heart into pieces.

---

tags:

@two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04  @astridstark13

 @lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday

@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face

@Specialagentjackbauer  @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 

@petrovafire39 @ghostindeath @roxytheimmortal 

 @allllium @waywardcrow @thatkindofgurl @waywardxrhea 

@anehkael @akilatwt @lostinthefantasies @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @ethereal-blaze

 @nennia-2000 @seasonofthenerd @abucketofweird  @mattmurdockstateofmind @imagineswritersblog @hazelhavoc @smile-child-13 @allst4rsfall @hashcakes @kezibear @mapleaye @sammanna @gamingfeline @moon-glades @nightwitherspring @phoenix666stuff @dare-devil

@ladyoflynx @hobiebrowns-wife @sarcasm-n-insomnia @lillycore 

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare 

@mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @yes-im-your-mom @hunnybelha @actorinfluence @capbrie @prowlingforfood @jupitervenusearthmars

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @nommingonfood @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium 

[hollowdeath]

I LOVEEEEE YOUR HARRY FICSSSS 😭😭🙏🙏 I literally cannot get enough, your harry fics are amazing ❤️

I was wondering if you'd be willing to do an enemies to lovers type thing with dark!harry, similar to the one you did with "the dark side" fic, but maybe they're rivals due to quittich, yet they both just have tension they don't know gow to handle, so one day they just kind of get so worked up in an argument they start making out. (P.S. I loved the thing you did where harry came from y/n saying he hated him 😫😫 also the part where harry gets turned on from y/n scolding him. If possible, could you incorporate that in there? Thank you smm ❤️❤️) I hope it's not too much trouble ❤️❤️❤️

thank you so much for requesting this, i hope you enjoy!!!

pairing: slytherin!harry james potter x gryffindor!fem!reader (18+)

summary: you and harry have been quidditch rivals ever since you've become captain of the gryffindor team. the tension between you two rises until one of you needs bandaged up by the other, leading to you making a discovery about the school's bad boy that leaves you baffled and insanely curious.

cw: smut!!! angst, mentions of blood, degradation kink, sub!harry x dom!reader, dry humping

word count: 7k

it was your final year at hogwarts and, more importantly to you, it was your last year as the gryffindor quidditch captain. you took major pride in your status as captain, and dedicated a majority of your time outside of class to leading practice, coming up with new plays, and making sure that annoyingly good slytherin captain kept his distance from you and your team.

harry potter was well known at hogwarts years before he even came through. the boy who lived, or whatever. you had never paid him much mind to begin with because you knew he reveled in his own notoriety.

see, potter wasn't just the slytherin quidditch captain. he was the most vile, egotistical, disrespectful wizard you'd ever had the misfortune of interacting with. on top of thinking he was some kind of miracle that blessed everyone's presence wherever he went, he specifically treated you worse than the mud on his shoes. not just because of your status as gryffindor captain, but because you were the only student who wasn't afraid to stand your ground with him. had it not been for quidditch practice 4 times a week and games every friday, you would've done everything you could to keep your distance. however, things didn't work out that way, and you ended up forming a sort of rivalry with the boy that the student body found all too exciting.

it started last year when potter and his friends made a dumb poster and hung it up in every boys bathroom: a drawing of someone falling off their broom with your face printed out and glued to it, along with harry's whose drawing had just knocked you off victoriously. they had put "[y/l/n] vs potter: this friday at 6" at the top like it was some kind of promotional advert. and, as much as you hated it, it actually somewhat worked.

from that game on, the other kids began picking sides every week to see who would win. the crowd turnout became the largest it had been in your entire time at hogwarts. some came in support of potter or were otherwise afraid of what would happen if they didn't, while a good amount of students started to become your biggest supporters the more you showed your skills in the game.

see, you didn't just become captain by having a recognizable last name unlike some other people; you had been playing quidditch since you could fly from a young age, and made the team every single year before finally being nominated for the position by your own teammates. you made a promise to them that day that slytherin would no longer be known as the winning house, and that they finally had some competition to sweat over.

and sweat they did. your first game as captain was an easy win, and so were the next 3. it wasn't until the slytherin players learned they actually had to try in order to win now that they began winning every other game as well. that's where harry stepped in.

harry was someone you always tried to avoid during your years at hogwarts. you didn't socialize with many slytherins to begin with as you found some of them to be rather grating and obnoxious, but especially not with slytherins like potter. it was students like him that gave the entire house a bad name. everyone thought he was so charming besides his cocky attitude, but you saw through his act right away. you think that's partially why he singled you out of anyone as his target.

once he set his sights on you, it was impossible to avoid him. it's like he had some sort of tracker on you the way he always managed to pop up in the most random of places simply to upset you. not that you'd be surprised, as along with harry's sickening bravado came his disregard for moral ethics. if there was a way to cheat, lie, or steal your way into getting what you wanted, potter was already on it. he knew no bounds when it came to his little schemes either. from stealing your game plays and sharing them with his teammates to spreading rumors about your players to playing clearly illegal moves during the game only for nobody to notice but you, potter seemed to revel in the rivalry everyone pushed onto you.

you hated giving him the satisfaction of breaking your cold demeanor, but sometimes his antics pushed you too far. he knows how protective you've become over your teammates, so he'll target them when he can't get to you, especially the younger ones. this is where you've blown your cover quite a few times as you can't stand seeing your first years cower in fear anytime they see potter. yelling, spitting, nearly getting physical with him on several occasions when he ignores your threats to leave the kids alone or else. it's as if he rather enjoys getting such a rise out of you, and not just to fuel the public rivalry.

today was your last day of practice before the last, biggest game of the semester. your team knew to meet at the field at 5 pm ready to go as you had plenty of plays you wanted to perfect before playing against the slytherins tomorrow night. practice had only just started with a few flyers in the air before you heard a commotion of voices coming from behind you.

you turned and saw harry leading his team onto the field, laughing obnoxiously and pointing at your teammates in mockery. you swear you felt steam coming from your ears when you told your team to wait and let you handle this.

you stormed up to potter with an accusatory pointed finger. "you. get the hell off my field now before i call mcgonagall out here, potter." you spit at him before pushing his chest. harry takes the push and just laughs, shaking his head at you.

"[y/l/n], i'm not sure how many professors have to tell you that this field isn't yours before you let us use it for practice as well," he said with a smirk, changing his grip on his broomstick and letting it rest on his shoulder. you narrow your eyes at him and cross your arms over your chest. "you know damn well we practice here every week at this time, and yet you're never able to find a time outside of that to spend with your own team. curious, isn't it?" you ask him sarcastically, your tone biting.

harry's smirk drops slightly. "are you suggesting that i'm trying to sabotage your chance at winning the season tomorrow? because i'd never do such a thing, [y/l/n], and it hurts that you think of me in that way." he responds just as sarcastically. a few of his players snicker and laugh just behind him, earning a nasty glare from you that has them shut up quickly.

you look back at harry who's waiting for a clever comeback from you, nearly on the edge of his seat to see what you have to say this time. you hate how much he thrives off getting you upset.

"fine. practice, then. you'll need it." you tell harry with a cold tone, giving him a disgusted look up and down. you take a step forward and point your finger back into harry's chest, your faces less than a foot away from each other. "but if you mess with any of my players, even as a joke, i will gut you like a fucking fish." you tell him in a hushed tone. you think you see his pupils dilate slightly, but you were probably mistaken. "got it?"

harry's smirk only grows as he starts backing away slowly. "got it, princess." he laughs, turning to his little group of followers for approval before they run off to the other goal post opposite from your team. the nickname is new, and for some reason it made your stomach drop and heart race like crazy. that potter kid just knew exactly how to get under your skin.

you tried to focus on your own team's plays for the rest of practice, but you could clearly hear harry and his friends saying your name and laughing too often for your comfort. anytime you happened to make eye contact with harry, you made sure to scowl at him and promptly turn your attention away. just his sheer presence made your blood boil and skin crawl.

for the most part there were no issues in the sky, the slytherins mostly kept to their side besides the few times harry's friends were messing around and ended up coming close to a few of your teammates. you scolded them each time, but they would only laugh at you and fly off to tell harry about your outbursts. other than that, you ended up getting a lot accomplished in order to be prepared for the game the next day.

however, towards the end of practice, your teammates were having some difficulty with a new technique you taught them, so you took the time to demonstrate it with another player in the sky. you were just about to start instructing when your teammates started calling out to you frantically. you didn't have enough time to process what they were warning you about before you felt someone fly into you from behind, nearly causing you to fall off your broomstick.

you could feel yourself falling to the ground, but your grip on your broomstick remained tight enough to quickly get it under you just in time to somewhat break your landing. you tumbled to the ground with a pained groan, and heard someone else fall just to your left. you could feel the wind get knocked out of you in the air, so it took a moment for you to properly breathe as you tried to sit up.

your teammates got to you in seconds, asking if you were okay and trying to help you up. that's when the pain set in. standing up-right you could feel your rib cage aching and your shoulder throbbing. "i'm fine, i'm fine," you told everyone, brushing off the grass stains on your clothes. you turned to see who had fallen next to you, and who else would be lying there but harry potter as his slytherin teammates rushed to his aid as well.

they're helping him stand up and you can feel the rage building inside you. you break away from your teammates' grasps and march up to harry as he's wiping the grass stains off his own clothes as well.

"you did that on purpose, you pest." you snap at him. harry looks at you incredulously as he fixes his practice jersey. "are you mad? it was an accident, i wasn't looking where i was going, drama queen." he snaps back, giving you a dirty look up and down. you can feel your jaw clenching and fists balling at your sides. "oh yeah, sure, you just so happened to run into me of all people in the sky. you know, you're such a…"

you pause in your anger noticing a gash on the side of harry's face with blood starting to drip down his cheekbone. harry notices your concern and gives you a confused look. you sigh and instinctively pull down the sleeve of your sweatshirt to hold it against his wound. "now you have a giant cut on your face, for fuck's sake," you tell him, your voice a mix of panic and exasperation. harry winces at your hand making contact with his face, but his eyes grow with concern hearing your panic.

you turn to your team and start guiding harry towards the school. "practice is over, do not be late tomorrow." you announce to them hurriedly, trying to keep your sleeve against harry's injury as you rush him off the field.

harry actually manages to stay quiet on the way to the infirmary despite your anticipation to shush him the entire way for making crude jokes. instead he remains silent and lets you urgently guide him through the empty halls.

once you arrive at the infirmary wing, you notice the entire room is full of people. every bed is taken, ans every nurse is running around frantically from patient to patient. you and harry share a confused look before you roll your eyes and find a nurse between beds. "excuse me, ma'am, i'm sorry to bother but um, potter here was being an idiot and got a cut on his face that just needs to be bandaged quickly." you motion towards harry and feel him give you a nasty look out of your peripheral for calling him an idiot.

the nurse, completely exhausted, sighs and motions towards a room to the side of the check-in station. "look, we are swamped with a potion experiment gone wrong here. if it's just a cut that doesn't need stitches there's a first aid kit in the little room over that way." she tells you quickly before being called away to another patient. you try to intervene but she's already jogging away, leaving you with a bloody harry in your hands. literally.

you sigh, clearly annoyed, and turn to examine harry's cut again. pulling your blood-soaked sleeve away, you see the blood flow still hasn't slowed and decide to just bite your tongue and help harry despite your hatred for him only growing in this situation.

you drag harry towards the little room, opening the door and turning on the lights to reveal the smallest examination room you'd ever seen. you had no idea this was even here, but it only contained a sink, a cot, a locked medicine cabinet, and a first aid kit. you closed the door behind harry and locked it. you grab a few paper towels from next to the sink and walk harry over to the cot. "sit," you command him, practically pushing him with your other hand to sit down.

harry looks up at you softly, way softer than he's ever looked at you. it makes your heart skip a beat but you ignore the feeling quickly. "here," you tell him coldly, handing over the paper towels. "just apply pressure on it while i get the first aid kit."

harry does as he's told and you slowly pull away your sleeve, making a disgusted face at the stains left on the cuff. you sigh and pull your arm back through the sleeve, starting to take off the hoodie altogether. "well, that's ruined," you complain, throwing it to the floor, leaving you in a tiny tank top and workout shorts.

harry's watching you intently, adjusting his glasses and shifting his weight in his seat. you walk to the sink and thoroughly wash your hands in case any blood happened to get on you as well.

opening the first aid kit up you find a tiny bottle of isopropyl alcohol, cotton rounds, and bandages. pouring alcohol on the cotton, you turn to harry and still find him watching you.

you give him a look. "what?" you ask with pinched brows. harry, for once, looks flustered as he turns his eyes away from you, instead staring at the floor below his feet. you just roll your eyes and set down the alcohol, walking towards harry and pulling away his hand from his cheek.

"here," you say, moving his jaw to look up towards you. "this is gonna hurt a little," you tell him before gently cleaning the cut with the cotton round. harry winces, but his eyes never leave your face. you try to ignore his gaze but it becomes even more intense the longer you take to stop the bleeding. you can practically feel his stare burning holes into your skin, and you start to feel that familiar annoyance rise in your stomach.

"i know i'm pretty, potter, but can't you look anywhere else?" you complain, giving him a cold look before returning your attention to his cheek. harry's eyes drop again, but end up falling on your chest this time. you back away and scoff, throwing the cotton pad into the trash next to the cot. "perv," you mutter under your breath.

just as you're preparing the bandage on the counter next to the sink, you hear harry say something from behind you. "you're gonna have to speak up, kid," you chuckle, throwing away some wrapping in the trash. "your, um, your back," you hear him stutter.

you turn to give him a confused look. "what?" you ask. harry motions towards your back, and you turn to look at yourself in the mirror above the sink. you look at your back and pull up your tank top slightly to see a massive bruise forming on your ribcage. you gasp at the size and color, immediately turning your anger towards harry.

he already looks prepared for your rage before you can even start to say anything. "you bloody prick, i know you did this on purpose. do you seriously want to win so badly you'd nearly break a rib to get there?" you snap at him, pulling your shirt back down and angrily marching towards him still sitting on the cot.

"i told you, [y/n], it was an accident." he says. you pause. he's never called you by your first name, at least not to your face. you were actually surprised he knew what it was in the first place.

harry looks up at you innocently, his eyes soft and brows raised. this just angers you again. you take another step towards him, your legs practically between his as harry tilts his head up to keep looking at you.

his glasses are crooked, his hair is a mess, and the cut on his cheek is still raw. and still, for some reason, your heart skips a beat looking down at him. you've never been so close to his face. you've never noticed his freckles before.

"you should just be glad i haven't targeted you the way you've targeted me all these years, potter. you're lucky i'm a nice person and don't believe in revenge, or else you'd be the one with nearly broken bones and a bruise the size of your lungs." you spit in his face, your tone razor sharp.

harry's expression hardly changes at your words. if anything his eyes only soften more watching you become filled with anger.

"and wipe that innocent look off your face before i do it for you. you should be thanking me for patching up this cut and not making it worse." you continue to vent at him as you step away to grab the bandage from the counter.

you're just starting to press down on the adhesive of the bandage around harry's injury when his eyes meet yours again. "thank you." he says, his voice broken and whiny. something about the way he says it makes your stomach drop to the floor. harry's usual annoying temperament was completely gone, no longer making mocking jokes or insults towards you, instead only speaking softly and looking into your eyes even softer.

confused and feeling a strange mix of emotions, you finish applying the bandage on harry's face without a word.

you start to put away the first aid kit, taking one last look at your bruise in the mirror with a sigh.

"i'm sorry." you hear harry say quietly. you look at him, his expression empathetic and almost concerned for you. it was then you started to believe the incident really was an accident. why would harry ever be apologetic for something he'd usually take loads of pride in, like knocking you off your broomstick?

you swallow nervously and look away from him, fixing your shirt. "you should be," you try to remain cold, but your voice is breaking. "i'm just glad you also hurt yourself in the process. you deserve to feel some of the pain too." you say in a deadpan voice.

you pick up your sweatshirt off the floor and start soaking the sleeve in some hot water to at least try and get some of the stains out.

"you're right." harry says behind you, his voice somber. you roll your eyes at his pathetic attempt to seem remorseful, turning to him curtly. "i know i'm right. and you know what else? you're just a loser who picks on people to feel better about yourself because you're insecure." you insult him.

you expect at least some kind of reaction from harry, but he just continues to watch the ground with a sullen expression. "i know." he says quietly.

you groan and turn to shut the sink faucet off, walking towards harry with the same accusatory pointing finger from before. "and you can stop with this whole act you're putting on 'cause it's pissing me right off," you nearly yell at harry, getting in his face. he just looks up at you with those big blue eyes again, biting his lip harshly.

you went to scold him again when you noticed a rather large bulge in his pants from where you were standing above him. you thought you were just assuming, but once you took a step back, you knew exactly what was happening with a smirk growing on your face.

harry nervously looked down at his crotch before quickly attempting to hide his obvious erection. he adjusted his pants and tried to use his shirt to cover it, but you were already laughing at him. "this cannot be real, this has got to be a setup. there's no way you just got turned on by me insulting you for 10 minutes straight." you could hardly get the words out from laughing so hard.

clearly embarrassed, harry looks between you and his erection with fear in his eyes. it only makes the situation that much better for you as you continue to humiliate your own bully.

"u-uh, this isn't, um–" "don't try and tell me this isn't what it looks like, potter. i know exactly what's going on here." you interrupt him and cross your arms. "you're such a loser that the only way you can get off is by having girls hate you. y'know, most guys get erections from making out with a girl, not getting threatened by them." you mock him, still a hint of anger laced in your voice.

harry's looking at you with that same innocent expression, but there's something else in his eyes that makes you pause. he's not just embarrassed, he's actually enjoying what you're saying to him. you can see his pupils dilate just looking at you, his bulge only becoming more obvious the longer you mock him.

you want to be disgusted at this situation. you want to hate the way harry's looking at you and leave the room with a huff to tell everyone about his little kink. you want to call him a disgusting creep and slap him across the face for ever thinking of you in such a way. but, you don't. because you can't.

you should be disgusted. you should be creeped out. but, for some reason, you're just not. you should be filled with rage ready to tell him off again, but, instead, you find yourself full of curiosity and…flattery?

of course it's never flattering for a guy to get an erection thinking about you being upset with him, if anything it's quite morbid. however, with you and harry, everything finally started to make sense. this is why he was always pushing your buttons just to get a rise out of you, or why he seemed to thrive off of your heated interactions. because he did. he found pleasure in your anger.

again, you should be fuming, but you're just not. your heart is racing and so is your mind. you're completely flustered at this point, possibly even more than harry is. you can feel the blush on your neck and cheeks and can't tell if the embarrassment you're feeling is secondhand or not.

still looking up at you, harry attempts to cover his erection up again with his pants. you just laugh at him again as there's no real point, you're more than well aware of his predicament at the moment. his blush is so severe he's nearly completely red, and you can see his hair start to stick to his forehead from the sweat. while you'd usually feel nothing but contempt looking down at harry's innocent expression, this time you feel a bit different. he almost looks younger now, his eyes soft and lips slightly hung open.

you notice the bandage around his scar starts to lift a bit around his eye, so you sigh and place a hand on his bandage to help reattach it. again, harry almost winces at your movement, and you can see his erection twitch under his pants. god, he really does get off on this.

while fixing it, harry's still watching you intently. "i'm sorry," his voice is soft but deep, making your blood run cold. you pause to look him in the eyes. "and what are you sorry for?" you lead him on.

harry's brows furrow together slightly. "for…well, y'know," he trails off, offering a fake, awkward chuckle. you smirk as you look back at his bandage. "no, i don't know. so why don't you tell me, potter?" you ask teasingly.

without fail, harry shifts in his seat uncomfortably and tries to subtly hide his erection again. your smirk only grows at his predictability.

"u-uh, well, i-i'm sorry for…for, um, getting turned on by you…" his stuttering is only making you enjoy the moment more. maybe part of you likes seeing him squirm like this under your hand. "by me…?" you lead him on again, taking a step away to examine his bandage. harry swallowed nervously watching you. "by you…being mean to me." he says meekly, his voice small and embarrassed.

you smirk at him again and decide to test the waters. "good boy."

harry's face absolutely drains of color. you can practically see his heart thumping out of his chest. and, if you weren't wrong, his hands actually started shaking in his lap.

you start laughing again at his reaction, hardly able to hold back from how funny this situation was to you. harry potter, the school's bad boy, the top slytherin student, the quidditch captain, your biggest rival, has a literal kink for being degraded. and he had the nerve to ever try and call you a loser.

"sorry, it's just so funny to me," you tell him between laughs, wiping tears from your eyes. "actually, no, i'm not sorry. i think you deserve to be laughed at for this. what guy actually gets horny from girls being mean to him?" you ask rhetorically, crossing your arms again and examining harry in front of you.

he's completely disheveled and getting sweatier by the minute. he breaks eye contact after your question, nervously scratching the back of his neck to waste time. "uh…" he starts off, clearly not knowing what to say to that. you just continue smirking, watching him struggle. "i mean, is it every time a girl is mean to you this happens? i'd imagine with your attitude that would be pretty often." you joke, partially curious but mostly just trying to make him squirm more.

harry shakes his head, both of his hands rubbing at his face and wiping the sweat from his hairline. "n-no, it's, uh…" he starts again, eventually trailing off with a sigh. you start tapping your foot impatiently. "i'm waiting." you say in a mocking tone.

harry tenses again, still not looking back up at you just yet. his body language is clearly uncomfortable and defensive. "it's not…all girls, okay? it's just…you." he finally spits out, clearly struggling to put his thoughts into words. "this only happens with you, i swear. a-and it's only started this year, and i don't know why." he rambles, speaking with his hands, his eyes still fixated on the floor.

for once, you're speechless. you weren't expecting that confession from him, and you certainly didn't know how to react to it in the moment. i mean, this potter kid has had it out for you since day one, he's practically made you two enemies on the field and off, and now he wants to tell you all this? it's a bit confusing, to say the least.

harry sighs, resting his face in his hands once again. "look, i'm sorry about all of this, okay? all of it, not just today, but everything. i shouldn't have been so rude to you all this time, especially not for the reasons i have…" you can practically hear harry wincing at his own words. he uncovers his face but continues to look down. "just…please, please, don't tell anyone. i know that's asking for a lot considering all i've done to you, but…please, [y/n]." he's nearly begging.

you just watch him carefully, trying to figure out how to respond to all of this. on one hand you're inclined to feel insulted, disrespected, and downright disgusted at this information, but in reality…you're just obscenely curious. i mean, how often does a guy get turned on by you being mean to him? and not just you, but specifically, only you. does that mean he actually likes you? or is it only a sexual thing? and how would that even work?

as your mind continues to raise more and more questions, you feel yourself speaking before you even decide what to say.

"fine, i won't tell anyone. if," you take a slow step towards harry. he looks up at you with flushed cheeks and wide eyes. your heart leaps at the sight of him so vulnerable beneath you. it's as if you can see him thinking anything, anything for you.

you're not sure what's possessing you in this moment, but you can't stop yourself from pushing the limits further between you and harry. again, your mouth starts speaking for you.

"if…you let me help." you say with a smirk, closing the gap between you and harry and standing between his legs once again. he's looking up at you in complete shock, his eyes examining every inch of you in front of him. he's trying to speak but his mouth just keeps opening and closing, gasping for air and nervously chuckling.

arms still crossed, you wait for harry to say something and enjoy seeing him be the speechless one this time.

he eventually looks back up at you, biting his lip again and leaning back slightly. "help…me?" he asks, confused. you laugh at him, shaking your head. "yes, potter. help you. can't have you leaving here with that," you motion down to his pants with your head. "can we?" you ask seductively.

again, you're not sure what's making you act like this right now, but you honestly didn't mind it. you already got a kick out of insulting harry anyway, why not watch him struggle a bit harder under your thumb in this tiny exam room?

harry's completely frozen. you smile at him this time, the most genuine one you could muster in the moment. "if you want to, of course," you say quietly, softening your gaze at him and fixing his messy hair. harry makes a soft sound and leans into your touch, his eyes closing. you giggle to yourself, he just looks so innocent resting in your hand.

the moment didn't last long as you tighten your grip on the hair on the back of harry's head, pulling it so he's looking right at you. his eyes open and a soft whine escapes his lips. "i'll take that as a yes?" you ask smugly, leaning down until your faces were nearly touching. harry does his best to nod his head, swallowing nervously and glancing at your lips.

you smile at him again. something just felt so right when you were in control, seeing harry's front disappear as he became a mess in your hands. you felt powerful, confident, and, to your dismay, insanely turned on from the entire situation. your feelings of hate and desire for harry drove you mad, yet he seemed more than willing to be the recipient of both.

so, you lean forward, and you kiss him.

it's soft at first, slow, shy, you feel like harry's barely breathing. eventually he catches up, nearly moaning into your mouth as you feel your stomach fluttering. you put your other hand on his cheek and sit on harry's lap, your knees resting on the cot around harry's hips. you feel his hands tread carefully up your thighs and under your shorts, his fingers digging into your skin roughly.

this time you can't hold back your moans, causing harry to melt even more into you. his lips were soft, careful, but so eager. it's like he was starving and yet still took his time with you.

you pull away slightly, your breath heavy and forehead resting on harry's. "lay down," you command him, climbing off his lap. harry quickly lies back on the cot, kicking off his shoes in the process. you do the same before crawling back on top of him, carefully resting your ass directly on his erection.

harry openly groans, his hands reaching for your hips and squeezing the skin roughly. you bite your lip to hold back another moan. you slightly adjust your position and cause harry's head to roll back against the cot. "[y/n]..." is all he manages to say in his broken voice.

he's already such a mess and all you've done is sit in his lap. who would've known all this time his teasing you was just a cover up for this?

"this'll be easy. you're already practically falling apart on me, potter." you tease him, your cold fingers finding their way under his jersey. harry's body shivers, his hands moving from your hips to your waist. his fingers crawl under your shirt as well and cause your skin to break out in goosebumps.

he slightly smirks at this reaction, but you don't let him have his moment for long. "and don't get cocky," you warn him before you start grinding on his erection. his head rolls back in pleasure again, his mouth hanging open and fingers digging into your skin. you smirk to yourself. "don't forget you're the loser who likes to be insulted here." you remind him harshly, your hands running along his chest under his jersey.

harry's noises are completely pathetic, his hips bucking into yours for even the slightest bit more friction. you stop grinding into him and he lets out a shaky breath, looking at you with needy eyes. he looks so worked up already and you've barely done a thing.

"shirt off," you tell him, pulling at the material. harry, again, doesn't hesitate to follow instructions. he removes his hands from your waist and quickly takes off his jersey, throwing it to the floor.

your breath hitches in your throat looking at harry's soft, sweaty skin in the dim fluorescent lighting of the exam room. you never realized just how toned his shoulders and chest were, or how many scars and bruises he seemed to have, both new and fading.

you look back up at harry, his eyes nervously watching your every move. you lean in to kiss him again, messier, needier. his hands return to your hips and practically force you to start grinding on him again. you would've intervened if you weren't just as desperate to continue rolling your hips into harry's hard erection.

a soft moan comes from your lips as you grind into him harder, your hands resting on his chest for support. harry groans, his brows furrowing. "shit," he mutters, only encouraging you to go faster.

you could feel how wet you were through your panties. your stomach was tightening already, making you feel a bit embarrassed of your own desperation. seeing harry be so willing to please you only had you wanting him more.

just as you start to feel yourself blush at your lack of self control, you notice harry's panicked expression, his grip on your skin guaranteed to leave bruises. "what's wrong?" you ask, somewhat sarcastically and also concerned.

he struggles to get a sound out. "hmph, gonna, fuck, please, don't," he's stumbling through his words, barely able to keep his eyes focused on you. his hands try to stop your hips, but his grip his weak.

"stop what?" you ask curiously, slowing your hips slightly but rolling into him harder. harry moans, his hand covering his mouth hearing how loud it echoed through the tiny room. you just laugh at him and pull his hand away, guiding it to your chest. harry's eyes widen, trying to pull his hand away.

"stop, gonna…cum, if you don't," harry whimpers, squirming under your weight as his legs try to escape. you take your opportunity and pick up your pace, giving harry an evil smile.

"aw, already?" you ask, forcing his hand back to your chest. you guide his fingers along the curves of your breasts through your thin tank top, causing him to breathe even heavier. "you haven't even gotten to see these, and you're already about to cum? i was right, you're such a fucking loser, potter." you tell him, guiding his hand back under your shirt.

you can feel him struggling under you even more, his torso only getting sweatier. you just grab for his other hand and guide it under your shirt as well. he watches as intently as he can, his eyes still rolling back in pleasure at the pressure in his lap.

you help him lift his hands higher and higher until he's cupping your tits under your shirt, your breathing becoming hitched at the feeling of his rough fingers running across your sensitive nipples.

"fuck," you say under your breath, loud enough for harry to moan and grope you rougher, lifting your shirt above your tits. you gasp at the feeling and look back down at him, a sweaty mess with eyes barely open.

"please, please," harry starts begging, his hips still trying to squirm away from you. you place your hands on his sides and push him down, continuing to chase your high. "just stay still, harry," you nearly whimper. you realize you've never called him by his first name either.

that's when he comes completely unraveled beneath you. he's practically crying out in pleasure and desperation, his hands roughly squeezing the soft skin of your tits as his head is thrown back against the cot. just watching him fall apart like this has you shaking on top of him, feeling the warm wetness of your panties leaving a mark on harry's jeans.

it takes a few moments for both of you to come back to earth. harry's hands eventually loosen their grip on you before quickly pulling away, his eyes wide and panicked again. "sorry," he says quickly, his cheeks completely flushed.

you just shake your head and laugh, climbing off of harry's lap and adjusting your shirt. harry sits up and runs his hands through his hair, trying to catch his breath still.

the room is a bit awkward, but you eventually start to chuckle and push harry's shoulder lightly. "so…" you lead him on. harry chuckles as well, hanging his head low. "so…" he repeats, his voice still soft.

"so…is it wrong of me to assume you might actually like me?" you ask, picking up harry's jersey and handing it to him. he offers you a shy smile and puts it back on, shaking his head. "y'know, i'm not sure there's a way i could've made it more obvious." he admits half heartedly.

you laugh again, feeling a blush crawl up your cheeks. you turn away from him and grab your sweatshirt from the sink, the sleeve still completely stained.

"i really am sorry about that, i have a few you could borrow if you'd like." he says with a smirk, pointing towards your sweatshirt. you roll your eyes. "well, good to know your cockiness hasn't gone anywhere." you respond, suppressing a smile.

he chuckles. "never will." he says confidently. you give him a look and take a step towards him, causing him to swallow nervously.

you laugh at him again. "yeah, okay, pretty boy." you tease him, stepping away and towards the door. he follows behind you, still blushing like crazy.

leaving the exam room you notice all the nurses are still running around like lunatics, having no idea what's just happened only a few feet away from them. you and harry share a knowing look before running off together, laughing as you reach the halls.

"y'know," harry says between laughs, looking over at you with nothing but love in his eyes as you continue walking the empty halls. "don't think i'll go easy on you tomorrow just because of…that." he says, motioning behind him with a shy smile. you smile back at him and offer your hand. harry looks a bit hesitant, but shakes it anyway. "wouldn't want it any other way, potter."

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[void-of-unparalled-chaos]

Star Shoes

"Things had been going so well for him lately. He should have expected the other shoe to drop. Or the metal pipe in this case."

In which Danny and his totally normal boyfriend who is definitely not Red Hood are abducted by cultists. Danny is super concussed, but he's got the spirit.

@deadonmayn Day 2: Jason Has Magic | Ritual | Danny and Jason are abducted by the same cult | "You were never monstrous to me."

AO3 Link

   One day! Danny had asked for just one day! One day free from ghosts and vigilante stuff! A single day off! Was that too much to ask?

    In retrospect, he should have known something bad would happen. Things had been going too well for him lately. 

   Six months ago he began his degree in astrophysics at Gotham University. Since moving to Gotham, Danny and his apartment had yet to be caught in any sort of rogue attack or crime. It was certainly odd considering he was living in the crime capital of the country, but Danny decided he would take it.

   Most of his classes were able to be taken online, which was much more accommodating for Danny’s schedule. Sometimes a baby ancient of space just had to stretch themselves out amongst the stars and let their form slip. Frostbite said it was important for his development. He even offered to write Danny a doctor's note, but something told him it wouldn’t go over well with the school. 

   Danny Fenton requires up to five days of star exposure per month or else he breaks out in fins and eyes that may cause you feelings of cosmic terror. Please excuse him from lecture.

   Yeah. That would work.

   He didn’t need a note if the lectures were online anyway.

   The online lectures were also easier for him on bad tremor days. Sometimes his legs would ache and shake and randomly lock too much for him to walk. It was so much easier to float on those days and just… let loose. His human visage had begun to feel too small and restricting. He could put up with it normally but it itched. It was harder to stay restrained when he also had to deal with the tremors. Luckily for him, the bad days had been decreasing lately.

    By far the best part of the past six months was Danny’s new boyfriend. Jason was great! Better than great! Jason was amazing! They had only been dating for a month but Danny swore if anything happened to Jason he would kill everyone in Gotham and then himself (again). He had a sharp way with words that never failed to make Danny laugh, and though he may seem rude and grumpy on the outside, he was secretly a big sweetheart. 

   Danny had once seen him cry because of a feral (possibly radioactive) Gotham rat that was “just too small”. 

   There’s really no repairing your facade after that.

   Truly, Jason was everything Danny could ask for in a boyfriend. Danny had worried that the questionable functionality of his legs would be a turn-off, but he had been pleasantly surprised. Jason never pushed him past his limits, in fact, he fought to keep Danny from doing so. On the bad days, Jason would make him soup and drape heating pads over his limbs. He would knead his knuckles into Danny’s muscles and press kisses to his trembling fingers. It didn’t make the bad days stop, but they became more bearable. 

   Danny was so lucky.

   So really, he should have expected the other shoe to drop.

   Or the metal pipe in this case.

   Groaning, Danny struggled to open his eyes. His head hurt like he had been doing shots for twelve straight hours and his mouth tasted like iron. He must have bitten his tongue. Or lost a tooth. They grew back so fast that it was honestly hard to tell. 

  “D…n..”

   Someone was talking.

   “Da…n…”

   Someone needed to shut up. Danny hated that name.

   “D…ny!”

   Ugh. 

   Vision swimming, Danny peeled open his eyelids. This… he was in a pawnshop? Why was he in a pawnshop?

   “Danny!”

   Oh. 

   Jason is here.

   Hi Jason!

   “Hey, baby,” Jason huffed in amusement.

   Did he say that out loud? Fuck. He probably has a concussion.

   “I’d be surprised if you didn’t with all the blood on your head.” 

   Blood? Danny tries to feel his face for it but instead finds his hands bound behind his back. He struggles to free them, not accomplishing much besides wiggling around on the carpet like a sad worm. He pauses once for breath and then resumes his wiggling in earnest.

   Now hypothetically, Danny could just phase out of the restraints. One issue…

   Jason was completely in the dark about the whole Phantom thing. They had only been dating for a month and like- how could Danny even bring that up? 

   Hey, just so you know I’ve died before and I’m technically still dead depending on how you think of it? Apparently I’m also a baby god which is news to me too so if that’s distressing for you imagine how I feel! And while we’re at it, I should let you know that your entire concept of the afterlife is probably wrong. Enjoy that crisis!

   Okay, so Danny wouldn’t use those words exactly but that’s the gist of it. It’s some world-changing information and people have been dumped for less. Danny doesn’t want to scare Jason off!

   And even if he was fine after that conversation, what about Danny’s other form? The one that Frostbite keeps calling his true form? It was… a lot, and he hadn’t been joking about the cosmic terror. If he were being honest, Danny barely felt human some days. 

   Danny allows his head to fall back to the floor with a thunk.

   “Careful, darlin’,” Jason sounded concerned from where he was bound adjacent to him, “I think it's stopped bleeding. Don’t want you to open it again.”

   “It’s fine. Worse than it looks.”

   “...Do you mean better than it looks?”

   “Yeah, that. Head wounds bleed a lot.”

   It really was better than it looked. With Danny’s healing, it was probably entirely gone by now. 

   Jason looks like he is about to say something else when the backdoor opens. 

   In comes the most stereotypical cultists Danny has ever seen in his life. Actually, they were stereotypical but worse. The robes they wore looked plasticy and the black was off with a gross yellow undertone. Overall it was giving purchased off some shitty cheap website vibes. Like Wish. 

   They circle around Danny and Jason so perfectly synchronized that Danny knows they had to have practiced this. He imagines them running through their steps as if they were practicing for a dance recital. Did they have a choreographer?

   “Why would we have a choreographer?”

   Oh, Danny is speaking out loud again. Did he say the stuff about the robes?

   “What’s wrong with our robes?!”

   “I love you, baby, but I need you to shut the fuck up.”

   Understandable. Have a nice day.

   Danny passes out.

   When he wakes up again they are in a different room. Jason is struggling against a cloak’s hold and cursing up a storm in true Jason fashion. The cultists look a little worse for wear. The one holding his boyfriend looks like he might have gotten into a fight with a weedwhacker. 

   “Touch one hair on his head and I’ll fucking kill you!” Jason snarls.

   He’s largely ignored by the cultists who continue with their preparations.

   Danny finally takes stock of where he’s at. He’s still on the floor, but the carpet feels slightly different. The room is bare compared to the one they were in before. A desk and office chair are pushed against the wall to make room for the summoning circle. A summoning circle that Danny was currently resting in. As an offering. Great.

   Flashing lights distract him from their predicament.

   The guy closest to Danny was wearing light-up sneakers. Danny didn’t even know they made those for adults. Neat!

   “Hey man, where did you get your shoes?”

   He can’t see the cultist’s face but he assumes he’s raised an eyebrow with the way the hood crooks to the side.

   Danny genuinely wants to know! The lights look like little stars blinking in the darkness. He has to have them.

   Danny is about to ask again but is cut off by a loud curse. 

   Jason? 

   Jason!

   Danny has to save Jason!

   He growls, eyes flashing for the briefest of moments before he can tone them down. Jason can’t know about Phantom. He’ll have to figure something else out. Actually, he might not need to figure anything out! Depending on who this circle summons this could be a nonissue. 

   Danny cranes his head to look at the circle. 

   Groaning, he allows his head to fall back against the floor for the third time that night. 

   This isn’t just any summoning circle. This is his summoning circle.

   He lifts his head again to double check and yup, these idiots are using him as an offering for himself. Great job. Gold star.

  This is both good and bad. Good because they are in no immediate danger outside of the world’s worst Grim Reaper cosplayers. Bad because Eldritch horror.

   If these yahoos actually go through with the ritual and summon Danny, he’ll be forced into his ancient form in front of Jason. Probably. Danny wasn’t entirely sure that the ritual would work in the first place what with him already being there.

   Danny spends too long thinking about the summoning logistics and not enough time actually stopping it. Before he can come up with a plan the cultists are chanting. He can feel the tug in his chest getting stronger and fins pushing against his skin. This was happening whether Danny wanted it to or not.

   “Jason, close your eyes!”

   “Danny!” Jason was still squirming in Weedwhacker’s hold and valiantly trying to get to Danny. His teeth snapped dangerously close to the cloak’s fingers. Ancients, Danny loved his boyfriend.

   “Trust me, Jason!” Danny yelled, choking down the mist trying to escape from between his shark-like teeth, “Close your eyes!”

   With one last glance to verify that his boyfriend’s eyes are squeezed shut, Danny lets go.

   His very being unravels.

   It feels good to be this big, no longer vacuum-sealed into a too-small bag. The fins along his tail flick, stretching now that they are no longer confined. The luminescent lights travel up and down them as if doing a calibration run. His body parts disappear into fine vapor whenever they move before reforming in their new positions. The very pulse of the universe thrums in his chest. He can feel so much. He can see so much. He lets out a cool, dead, misty breath.

   His eyes open.

   The screaming starts. 

   Danny grins, displaying his sharp teeth proudly. He flies through the air, knocking person after person to the ground. They fall like blades of wheat to a scythe, small and inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. Just a speck in the eye of a giant. 

   Jason’s eyes are still closed. Good.

   Danny plucks him from Weedwhacker, setting him gently to the side. He can’t stop himself from getting into Weewhacker's face and screeching. He watches with satisfaction as he crumples to the ground seizing.

   The screaming eventually stops, the cultists catatonic on the carpet. Jason’s eyes are tightly shut. He’s breathing heavily, unmoving from where Danny had placed him. 

   Softly, ever so softly, Danny covers Jason’s eyes with his hands, careful not to prick him with his claws. He winds himself up tight, shoving himself back into his body like clothing in an overpacked suitcase. Gradually his claws shrink back into normal human digits. 

   His fingers shake with familiar tremors, still covering his boyfriend's eyes. Danny breathes shakily as Jason’s hands slide over his own.

   “Danny?”

   “Yeah.” 

   “Can I open my eyes now?”

   He swallows hard, mentally preparing himself. Jason’s going to leave. Jason heard the screaming and felt his claws. He’ll see the cultists and know what he’s done. Jason knows what Danny truly is and he is going to leave.

   “...Yeah,” it already sounds heartbroken as it leaves his lips.

   Jason’s hands take Danny’s with care, removing them from over his eyes. He blinks, surveying the room and Danny knows this is it. He’s waiting for the look of horror or sneer of disgust he has become so achingly familiar with. 

   Jason’s eyes meet his own.

   “Hey baby,” He presses kisses to Danny’s quivering fingertips with careful affection. Just like on the bad days…

   Danny sniffles, turning away with watery eyes and grit teeth. He wasn’t expecting this last scrap of kindness from Jason. 

   “No no no,” Jason squeezes his hands with gentle pressure. Not enough to hurt, never enough to hurt. “Look at me, Danny. Please?”

   Danny’s head pounds, his vision is blurry, his skin itches, and his heart hurts. He just wants this night to be over. But he could never deny Jason. 

    Jason smiles at him, hands coming to rest on his cheeks. He wipes a stray tear away with his thumb, smudging some dried blood away with it. 

   “There you are, handsome.”

   More tears race down Danny’s face. His voice cracks, “I don’t… I don’t understand.”

   “What don’t you understand, baby?” Jason asks, checking his hair for a wound that’s probably already gone.

   “You’re still here.”

   Jason pauses his minstations, “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

   “I-” Danny stops, addled brain thinking. Jason waits patiently for him to form the words, “I’m wrong. I’m not supposed to be like this,” Danny’s not sure how much sense he actually makes between the persistent concussion and rampant emotions, “I’m a monster.”

   The look in Jason’s eyes turned steely, “You're not a monster, Danny.”

   “But-”

   “No buts. You're not a monster. You wanna know how I know?”

    Danny remained silent, swallowing around the lump in his throat. Jason considers him for a minute then continues anyway.

   “I’ve seen monsters before. Monsters do awful things with only themselves in mind. Monsters go out looking for someone to hurt just because they can.” 

   Danny turns to look away again. It doesn’t matter that the timeline is gone or if he’s trapped in a thermos, the very concept of Dan will always haunt Danny.

 “Danny,” Jason redirects his attention, gently turning his face back to him. Danny’s not prepared for the pure unbridled devotion in his eyes.

   “You are the most selfless person I’ve ever met. You go so far out of your way to help others even when it becomes an inconvenience to you. It doesn’t matter if they are a stranger or not. Sometimes I worry you're going to get yourself kidnapped.” 

  Like today goes unsaid. Jason looks like he’s on the verge of tears too.

   “You were never monstrous to me, and you never will be. How could you possibly be a monster?”

   Danny sniffles again, leaning into his boyfriend’s touch. Jason readily accepts him into his arms, rubbing soothing circles on his back.

   “Sorry…” Danny finally mumbles into his… shirt? Whatever Jason is wearing feels hard against his cheek. Danny doesn’t really care. His head hurts too much to think about it, “I shoulda told you.”

    Jason quietly laughs, “Technically you still haven’t told me anything.”

   Danny nods solemnly, wiping the last of his tears away, “Complicated.”

   “Yeah, I get that,” he scoops Danny effortlessly into a bridal carry. 

   Danny yelps as the movement jostles his head. Jason makes a sound of apology.

   His boyfriend’s eyes scan the room again, “How about you explain it all to me when you're no longer concussed? Besides, I have some things I need to explain to you too.”

   “Sounds good,” Danny slurs as Jason walks them to the door.

   They are about to step over the threshold when Danny suddenly REMEMBERS.

   “WAIT!”

   Jason startles, looking around wildly, “What?! What is it?!”

   “The shoes!” 

   “The shoes?”

   “Yeah! The shoes! The star shoes!” 

   “...do you mean the light-up sneakers?”

   Danny pouts at him but nods anyway, “The star shoes.”

   “The star shoes, then,” Jason easily confirms, “What about them?”

   “I need to take em.”

    Jason grimaces, “...Why? I can just buy you your own pair.”

   “No! It’s not the same!” Danny whined, “They summoned me using me as an offering. I didn’t actually get anything!”

   “Okay, I’ll go get his shoes-”

   “My shoes.”

   Jason laughs, setting him down on the table just outside the door, “Wait here.”

   Danny waits. His vision is still swimming in a blur of colors. Colors. He’s pretty sure he can taste colors now. The dull brown carpet is disgusting. 

   Jason remerges victoriously with star shoes in hand. Danny cheers, immediately making grabby hands. Jason passes them over with a look of mild disgust.

   “You ready to go now?”

   Danny bats his eyelashes, throwing his arms (and shoes!) over Jason’s shoulders and around his neck. He presses in to rub his nose against his boyfriend’s, “Take me home?”

  “Of course.”

Danny had the best boyfriend.

[celestie0]

Hey!! Do you have any ihm headcanons for gojo and y/n?

I honestly love them both so much especially reader. Your writing is amazing

suuure!! i mean they're not like officially in a relationship yet so these will just be kinda random facts about them i supposeee, some separate and some together :0 but i hope they're still interesting haha <33

in holy matriphony headcanons

ᰔ note. for anyone new here, these headcanons are based off of my gojo x reader long fic series called "in holy matriphony"!! header art by @/3-aem

ihm!gojo woodworks in his free time. he’s building a coffee table right now. he passed out in his workshop last weekend because he accidentally inhaled too many wood stain fumes

ihm!gojo already has a college fund set up for his future kids (he started it when he was 26 lmfao)

ihm!gojo on that note is veeery financially responsible (unlike ihm reader hahaha)

ihm!reader only chose nursing for her post undergrad plans because she dressed up as a nurse once for halloween and it drove choso crazy and that’s basically what she ended up rolling with for the rest of her professional career 👍🏼 (a questionable yet relatable decision)

ihm!gojo’s ex-wife, who shall still remain mostly a mystery, is actually someone he’s known since he was four years old (childhood friends to lovers type beat)

ihm!gojo’s favorite weekend pass times are hanging out with juno, taking his boat out to the lake, and watching SNL

ihm!reader secretly really wants to go for a ride on the lake on ihm!gojo’s boat but she’s spent so much time yelling at him for parking it halfway across her driveway curb that she feels like asking would be damage to her ego

ihm!gojo & ihm!reader were actually veeeeeery civil with one another when they first met, like very sweet neighbors, but then obviously things became sour down the line haha

ihm!gojo eats a generally pretty clean diet other than the occasional takeout on a friday. he PIGS out when he’s sold a house though. also, he’s a massive slut for home baked goods especially if they were made just for him. one time juno brought him a plate of (very burnt) chocolate chip cookies and he damn near cried (it’s the thought that counts)

ihm!gojo became a real estate agent fresh out of college but his actual major in college was entirely unrelated to marketing, sales, or business (shall be revealed later) 

ihm!reader was voted prom queen not once but twice when she was in high school and she believes that’s when she peaked in life

ihm!gojo gets sent on business trips to foreign countries pretty often by his brokerage firm to assess new housing markets and he always tries to bring back souvenirs for everyone in the neighborhood (except reader because he once brought her a stuffed animal from the airport in taiwan but he saw her throw it away in her garbage bin on trash day :( …she’s so mean sometimes)

whenever ihm!gojo & ihm!reader have arguments over things, they always vent about it to their neighbors in passing, and reader gets so pissed off when neighbors take gojo’s side because she’s literally lived there her whole life and yet they have the audacity to advocate for HIM

ihm!reader holds a lot of resentment towards her father because he was a heavy smoker for the entirety of his marriage to her mom, and so she suspects the reason her mother has cancer in the first place is because of the secondhand smoke 

ihm!gojo is obsessed with avocados. he eats avocado toast everyday. and he makes a meaaaaannn bowl of guac. he only has one avocado tree in his backyard right now but he would like to have a whole farm of them someday

ihm!gojo is really social, he loooves to talk to people and get to know them and ask them for their whole life story even if he just met them like two minutes ago lol, but his actual close knit  group of friends is only like 3-4ish guys

ihm!gojo gets frequently invited to his clients’ dinner parties, christmas parties, thanksgiving meals, kids birthday parties etc lmfaooo but he often has to politely decline

ihm!reader’s doctor is very concerned for her symptoms of insomnia (due to her abnormal sleeping schedule from nights shifts) because she already has risk factors for alzheimer's from her mother and insomnia only increases that risk

ihm!reader’s favorite store ever is costco. she wants her ashes to be spread across a costco parking lot

a/n. hope u enjoyed :0 much love!!

[adventuringblind]

Hi, would you be able to write Oscar Piastri x Shy!reader. Maybe she’s absolutely stunning so other drivers go up to her and flirt with her but she doesn’t respond. Then they see her with Oscar and are a bit shocked.

Thanks 🤍✨

Shy

Oscar Piastri x reader

Genre: Fluff

Request: yes :)

Summary: Sometimes being shy makes people want to know more

Warnings: terrible flirting

Notes: I cracked myself up writing this because I am terrible at fluffy things. I love it.

Masterlist

To say you're shy is not exactly the word you would use. More like... particular.

Your words are few, and you like talking to the people who matter most in your life. Mingling at parties is not something you get joy out of.

When your friend decided to drag you out for the night, you were already frustrated. Even more so when everyone seemed to want to talk to you about their personal lives and amazing achievements.

Then there was Oscar.

You hid from the party in a quiet corner. The breath you'd been holding finally escaping through your teeth. Until He came around the corner.

His stupidly pretty eyes and fluffy hair caught you off guard. You blame the alcohol you had to help you get through this event.

"I take you your not one for parties?"

You wanted to say something snarky and sarcastic. But his voice was far to pleadent to let you do such a thing.

"It's okay, I'm not either, wanna get out of here?"

A simple proposal that changed everything. Oscar kept conversation going, and if you didn't feel like talking, he didn't care.

Sometimes, you would just bask in the comforting silence of each other. Words became unnecacry.

He obviously made the first move as you were far too shy to attempt an advance.

You blushed a lovely shade of red when he kissed you the first time.

And now you're here, traveling the world with him as much as possible, watching him race. It's funny how things work out.

You spend time walking around the paddock looking for the few friends you'd made. Lando being one of them. He teased you and Oscar relentlessly because of how private you are. The papaya colored Brit seemed to be the only one who knew you two were dating.

Other drivers had asked on multiple occasions if you were with Lando. The majority of them thought you were someone's relative and tried to hit on you.

The awful pick-up lines were becoming a running joke in the McLaren garage.

Finally, it became too much for you. The reporters wanted to know who you were. The drivers would nit leave you be despite your best attempts at politely telling the to 'fuck off.' And the fans were starting to get out of hand.

"You sure you want to do this? If your not comfortable with it I can always talk with the PR team."

"Yes, but this way will make them all shut up."

"Fair point."

You walk into the paddock with the two papaya boys that day. Again, you could see people's wheels turning.

Oscar dragged you to one of the skysports reporters, knowing they would be the best ones to get their point across.

Lando pulls his phone out to record, and Daniel, Esteban, and Carlos, who'd been trying to win you over, sidle up next to him. Confused as to why you're standing with Oscar, your hands intertwined.

"Oscar, it's great to see you! Can I ask who the lovely lady standing with you is?" Greets an enthusiastic Laura Winters. You'd always liked her the most.

"Actually, Laura, if it's alright with you, I have a request."

Laura eyes him skeptically as he whispers something in her ear. She nods enthusiasticly, which is a good sign to you.

Oscar turns to you and takes your hands in his. You were expecting him to kiss you. Prepared for it all week. You'd already deleted your social media.

It's a real shock when he gets down on one knee, pulling a box out of his pocket.

Lando is squealing in excitement. The drivers next to him stand frozen, their mouth hanging wide.

You mimick that.

"So I know we planned to just kiss so everyone would finally leave you alone, but I thought this would be even better." A blush creeps across his face, and Laura is grinning so widely you think it might fall off. "I've known since pretty early on that I wanted to spend my life with you, regardless of if anyone says we're too young. I've never cared what they thought, and I'm not starting now. You are the most amazing person I've had the pleasure of meeting. Your witty comments reserved only for me make me feel incredibly lucky. You make me feel important, and I hope I make you feel the same. I want that, forever and always. So, marry me?"

Just like with most times in your life, words don't come easy. You manage to squeak a quiet yes, barely Audible to anyone but Oscar. But he's trained his ears to hear everything you say.

He places the ring on your finger and spins you around in utter joy, landing a perfectly placed and loving kiss to your lips.

Everyone is clapping for you, and you couldn't be happier than I'm this moment. The rest of the world is falling away.

The drivers next to Lando are still processing.

"Did we ever have a chance?" Asks Daniel finally.

Lando snickers. "Afriad not, mate. She's been trying to tell you guys, and you didn't take her reactions as a hint. Looks like you wasted your time on a girl who had her heart stolen."

[zerosuitsammi3]

If I can take a moment to share my experience as a trans woman on the internet

My experience is by no means unique, it's just one experience in the plethora of trans feminine experiences and not unique to only tumblr. Though, I'll mostly talk about what I've experienced here. In the light of recent events, the reaction of "the ceo," and the comments he contributed regarding dog pile harassment; I simply wish to share my experiences that I have had to juxtapose the dynamic of his statements against a lived experience.

This account started as a way to document my social transition and eventually my journey with HRT. Tumblr had always had a large lgbtqia+ community. The queer people here inspired me and gave me hope. What I didn't know, but soon learned, is that there were people here who hated me for being trans. Being early in my transition I was a prime target. TERF groups would plan raids on my account. What this entailed was: rebloging my selfies into circles that would say the most vile things about me, threaten to kill, tell me I was ugly, tell me that everyone I knew thought I was a joke, I was a monster, my family hated me, that I should kill myself, they'd download and edit my photos into caricatures or depictions of violence. They would fill my ask box with hundreds of asks detailing how they'd kill me, call me slurs, describe the ways that I should kill myself, and pretty much everything else I mentioned above with the reblogs. Their words were carefully curated to try and break me, break my spirit, break my will to live. I tried reporting it. But it was impossible to keep up with, and like many others I saw no real response. Eventually I learned that I had to block all of them. 100's of blogs, eventually 1000's of blogs. My block list these days is incredibly extensive. I had to wade through their blogs, traverse sickening hate speech and imagery to eliminate entire circles of people harassing me. I became jaded to the hate speech, hardened to it. But mind you, I shouldn't have had to expose myself to all of this just to be at peace here amongst my community. I received no help, I was left to my own devices to protect myself. The people who hurt me never saw consequences. It was painful, it was unfair, and no one else should have to put the hours upon hours of effort and exposure to hate in to protect themselves like I did. But again my experience is not unique.

I have had to repeat this process of preemptive blocking periodically once a new circle discovers me. Blocking them all before they can start the process of hate all over again. A process of hate that seems to be hitting my community with rapidly increasing fervor as of late.

I've seen others experience far worse than me. The TERF circles will hunt down their personal information and doxx them. Expose their home address, telephone numbers, names of their family members. I can't begin to imagine the terror my queer siblings must feel when someone tells then that they want to murder them all while showing them that they know where you live. This is not a new thing, not a rare tactic, it happens. And we've all seen the news stories of trans people being murdered by people who planned it and were vocal about it.

I know this is depressing. And it doesn't reflect all of my experiences. I've had wonderful experiences here, met amazing people, made close friends, found inspiration, found hope. I found a community.

And it's my community, and I never want to let it go.

I do have fear that making this statement will get me banned. But, I wanted to say it. I wanted it to exist in the world so that everyone who doesn't know our experiences has a chance to understand and with luck empathize.

I'll part on these words and hope for the best both for myself and for every member of the community.

[andvys]

Wicked Game E.M.

Warnings: 18+, minors don't interact! angst, slightly mean!Eddie, enemies to lovers, smut, Eddie calls reader names, choking, Eddie spits in reader's mouth, masturbation, unprotected sex, jealous Eddie, jealous reader, Eddie calling himself freak, hurt/comfort, Eddie calls reader ‘bee’, it’s a nickname he gave her

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Your best friend Steve and his new friend bring someone into your life that you just can't stand, Eddie Munson. He teases you, he says mean things to you and as foolish as you are, you still desire him- just like he desires you.

Word count: 12.5k+

Note: @take-everything-you-can , thank you for this amazing request. I hope you're gonna like this one, I loved writing it!

stranger things masterlist

Tagging some people who might be interested 🥰 @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @mysticmunson @aftermidnightwriting @bimbobaggins69

-

You and your best friend come as a package deal, wherever one goes, the other follows. There is not a single day you spend without each other, you do lunch breaks together, he comes over to hang out even when you’re busy studying or doing homework, you help him get ready for dates and he helps you pick out outfits for parties, when he’s sick, you take care of him and vice versa. You adore him. You are pretty sure that you will move in together if neither of you find a partner till then. 

You grew up together and always stuck to each other’s side. 

When your best friend found a second best friend, you were scared that you would lose him but luckily, that wasn’t the case, he didn’t leave, he didn’t abandon you like others would do after making new friends. You would always be his number one and he made that very clear and she became your best friend as well. Robin is amazing, you adore her just as much as you adore Steve. She is funny and sweet and you love spending time with her but you can’t stand her ‘forever’ best friend, Eddie Munson. 

That man had it out for you ever since he laid eyes on you, you don’t know what it is about you that makes him so mad but he never fails to make you feel irritated and angry. Eddie is not malicious in any way, he is no bully. He just makes his dislike for you very known. He teases you, makes sly and snarky comments, glares at you before you even turn to look at him. 

That was before your best friend became his best friend. 

Now it’s so much worse because not only do you have to tolerate him at school, you also have to tolerate him in your free time. 

While Robin is always sweet and supportive of you. 

Eddie is grumpy, mean and annoyed with you. 

You don’t know where it had all started, you can’t even remember if you ever even talked to him before he chose to hate you, all you remember is the cold shoulder he only ever gave you. 

You do wonder why he dislikes you so much, is it because you come from the popular crowd? Maybe. But Steve used to be the most popular guy in school and Eddie still gets along with him and likes him. Is it because you have wealthy parents? Because you live in a big house, wear fancy clothes and have a nice car? Possible. But Steve has it all too and he never gets shit from Eddie. Or are you just an unlikable person to him? Now, that would make you sad because that would mean that he would just hate you for the person you are, he would hate you for your personality, for being you. 

But then things take a small turn after a party at Steve’s place. You see a little deeper into his mind. 

“What’s with the scowl on your face, bee?” Eddie asks as he gets so close to your face that you can smell the disgusting beer and cigarettes. 

“Ew, get off,” you scowl as you push him away, “and stop calling me that, nerd.” 

Eddie hasn’t strayed away from that nickname ever since you had been stung by one when you were all out at the lake, you kept swatting away the bee that continuously made it’s way back to you, you called it annoying and hissed in pain when it had stung you. Eddie laughed at your demise, ‘you’re a bee too, annoying and ready to attack’.

He smirks, flicking your hair, he moves back and plops down on the bench beside you, he follows your gaze, he can’t even help but scoff when he sees what you’re looking at. 

Steve is talking to the girl that stood him up a week ago, calling off the date because of her upset stomach but then you and Robin ran into her at the store, she was with a different guy, he hugged her from behind and kissed her neck while she was picking out snacks, not looking sick at all. 

Eddie rolls his eyes, “jealous huh?” 

You scrunch your face up, tearing your eyes away from Steve, you turn to look at Eddie, “why would I be jealous?” 

He shrugs, leaning back, he blows smoke into your face and smirks when you begin to cough. 

“Because you’re in love with Steve.” 

A loud laugh falls from your lips, earning a few looks from the other partygoers who spend the night out in the garden rather than the crowded house. 

“I’m not in love with Steve,” you snort, shaking your head as your eyes flicker with amusement. 

It’s not the first time that someone assumed that you are in love with him or that he is in love with you. You get mistaken for a couple, all the time, sometimes you play along just for the fun of it but you and Steve are not into each other, at all. It has always been purely platonic between you two, there’s no feelings on his part and neither on yours. You are best friends, platonic soulmates. 

“Yes, you are,” Eddie says. 

Rolling your eyes, you sigh, “what makes you say that?” 

“Because you’re super close and you are fiercely protective of him, like in a way where you can just tell that you’re in love with him.”

“That’s such nonsense,” you scoff, “I’m protective, yes.” 

He nods, shrugging. 

“Because he is my best friend! One who got hurt by a girl he used to love, he got his heart broken, twice! I don’t want it to happen again, he deserves better.” 

Eddie thinks about your words, searching for something in your eyes, for a moment, you think that he believes you but then he shakes his head. 

“Yeah, you’re still in love with him.” 

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest, you lean back, “okay well, then you’re in love with Robin.” 

Eddie laughs loudly, throwing his head back. You glare at him, growing irritated by his presence. 

“You’re funny, bee.” 

“Why am I funny? I mean, you’re just as close as Steve and I are,” you shrug. 

His brown eyes twinkle with amusement, he leans in closer. You ignore the way his cologne makes your head spin or the way his eyes flicker down to your lips or the way he– ‘Stop!’ you tell yourself. 

“Robin doesn’t swing that way, remember?” 

A breathy laugh leaves your lips and you smirk at him, “yeah but you do, right?” You ask, raising your eyebrows, “just because she isn’t into you or into men in general, doesn’t mean that you can’t have feelings for her. Unrequited love is a thing, you know that right?” 

His eyes darken, smirk falling from his lips, his expression hardens, he eyes your face slowly, nodding after a moment of silence, “yeah, it’s a thing. I know that,” he mumbles under his breath, bitterly. He clenches his jaw and looks away. 

You furrow your brows as you stare at his side profile. There’s something deeper behind his words, you know that but you choose to ignore it. 

“So, you are in love with her, huh?” You ask, smirking in satisfaction when you realize that you have successfully used his own teasing against him. 

He scoffs, putting his cigarette between his lips, he stretches his arm out behind you and looks up at the sky, “no, I’m not in love with her.” 

“Am I supposed to believe that?” 

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” you nod, shrugging, “well, then you gotta believe me that I’m not in love with Steve.” 

He snorts at you, “right, okay.” 

Placing your palms on the bench, you take a moment to look at him. It’s a hot summer night, the heat forced him to leave his beloved leather jacket at home or probably in the van. He wears a muscle shirt, some band logo you don’t recognize on the front. You let your eyes roam, eying his belt, you wonder if he had bought it that way or if he added the cuffs himself– wherever he got them from, either way, it looks good. He plays with the loose strings on his dark jeans, you notice a new ring on his middle finger, you look up, your eyes land on his pale neck. Squeezing your thighs together, you lick your lips and blink, pulling yourself out of your thoughts, your eyes meet his– he caught you staring. 

A smirk pulls at his lips, he eyes your flustered face, whether you realize it or not, you’re biting your bottom lip and squeezing your thighs together– oh, it seems like he found something new to tease you about. 

“Are you checking me out?” 

For the first time, you have nothing to say, nothing to fight back with, no snarky remarks or comments left for you to give. Instead of saying something, you scoff and roll your eyes at him before you jump up and walk away, leaving a satisfied Eddie behind. 

The next time Eddie sees you, you barely even look at him or acknowledge his presence and it pisses him off. It’s no secret that you don’t like him, you let him know any chance you get. You roll your eyes at him, you snap at him and refuse to sit next to him, even when it’s the only free seat left. Eddie takes it as a rejection, he thinks you are repulsed by him and by anything he does. 

A part of him assumes that you think he is gross, after all, that’s what the girls at school say about him. They assume that he is unhygienic, that he doesn’t look after himself, that he doesn’t shower or washes his clothes and that’s why you refuse to sit next to him. 

Eddie was always an observer, a very good one, except when it comes to you. You refuse to sit next to him because his cologne makes you dizzy, in a way it shouldn’t because Eddie hates you, you shouldn’t like anything about him, you shouldn't have any positive feelings for him. 

Eddie thinks you laugh and giggle at the jokes people make about him, not knowing that you always defend him even when he still hates you. 

“Eddie,” Robin hisses, nudging his shoulder. 

“What?” He grumbles, still staring– glaring at you and your stupid smile as you look through the polaroid pictures you have taken with Robin earlier when you went out to a big flower field to take pretty pictures. 

“Stop looking at her like you’re trying to make her disappear.” 

“Maybe that’s what I’m trying to do,” Eddie shrugs as he reaches for the bag of M&M’s, opening the bag and putting the candy into the bowl that Steve had put out on the counter. 

Robin rolls her eyes, groaning in annoyance, “you know, if you just tried to get along with her, things could be so much easier.” 

Eddie hates the way his heart skips a beat when you throw your head back in laughter after Steve had whispered something in your ear. Jealousy rushes through him when Steve comes up behind you and lays his chin on your shoulder, looking at the pictures with you. 

Robin knows her best friend very well. She knows that he doesn’t hate you or dislike you in any way, he is intimidated by you, by the feelings he could have if he just let them in. Eddie had crushes before but they were all lighthearted ones, he, himself didn’t even take them seriously, he just admired that person and then moved on a few days later but you? He always had a thing for you, even before Robin befriended Steve, and you and Eddie were forced into each other’s lives. He always looked at you differently but compared to his other crushes, he never let you become one or at least, that’s what he made himself believe. You are more than just a crush. 

“Why me? She’s the one who’s being a bitch.” 

Robin scoffs, laughing at her best friend, “you’re not serious right now, are you?” 

Eddie’s brown eyes flash with annoyance, “I am serious.” 

Robin runs her fingers through her short hair, “you’re such an idiot, Munson.” 

He scrunches his face up, tearing his eyes away from you and Steve, he turns towards his best friend, “why am I an idiot?” 

“Because you’re the one who’s always being mean towards her for no reason, you act like a damn child who can’t deal with the crush he has on that one girl,” she says in a hushed whisper, glancing at you to see if you or Steve are looking, “you’re my best friend and I love you dude but grow up, you’re 20 for fucks sake!” 

Eddie raises his eyebrows at her, he’s not even hurt, just amused and surprised. 

“Oh and if you haven’t realized it yet, the thing you’re feeling whenever you look at her and Steve, it’s called jealousy,” she smirks as she grabs a few of the snacks they have prepared, “Steve is truly just a best friend, they’re purely platonic, with a capital P, like you and I,” she says, pointing between them, “but when she actually starts dating someone, imagine how you’ll feel then. So, you better get that stick out of your ass and start treating her the way you actually want to treat her.” 

She leaves him standing in the kitchen, smirking to herself when she notices the flustered look on his face. She knows that he likes you, just like Steve knows that you like Eddie. You’re both too stubborn to realize it. 

“Are we ready for movie night, or what?” Robin asks as she places the snacks on the table. 

“Yes!” You say, clapping your hands together, you start collecting the polaroid pictures. 

“What are we starting with?” Steve asks as he gets up to put the tape in, “the shining or the evil dead?” 

“Both are gross,” you shudder. 

“Aw, does the princess need protection?” Eddie asks as he walks into the living room. 

Steve chuckles, smirking at Eddie while you roll your eyes. You get up and walk past him with the pictures in your hand, you put them back in your little backpack, not noticing that you have left one on the floor. Eddie’s eyes fall on the picture, putting the bowl of M&M’s on the table, he bends down to pick it up, it’s a picture of you, it’s a little blurry but still sharp enough for him to see all your beauty. Your smile is bright, your eyes are squinted, the sun is shining down on you, making your skin glow. You’re wearing the same little sundress you’re wearing right now, flowers are tucked into your hair. Eddie can’t even help but smile, his heart beats a little faster. 

You are so beautiful. 

“Alright, let’s watch the movie!” Steve says, startling Eddie, who quickly puts the picture into the backpocket of his jeans, looking around to see if anyone has noticed anything but no one did. Steve settles on the couch, Robin plops down next to him, giving him a knowing smirk. Steve nudges her shoulder as he reaches for the bowl of popcorn. 

Eddie shakes his head, sighing. They are plotting something, he knows, they are. 

Sitting down on the other end of the couch, he leaves the spot next to Robin for you, already expecting you to complain about sitting next to him. To his surprise, you sit down next to him without a single complaint. 

Eddie is a little surprised. 

“Do you want cuddles, bee?” Eddie smirks. 

You roll your eyes as you look at him, “from you? No thanks.” 

He chuckles, “aw, come on, I’ll keep you safe.” 

“I’m not even scared.” 

Lies. 

As much as you love horror movies, some of them just scare you. You flinch at every jump scare, hide your face behind your hands and use every possible excuse to leave the room, whether it is to get snacks or having to use the bathroom and as though the darkness in Steve’s big house isn’t bad enough, it also starts storming outside. The winds are heavy and the thunder is loud, it begins to rain harder and harder. 

Your knees are pulled to your chest and you opt to look out the window instead of the TV screen, just as one of the characters starts screaming, Eddie pokes your waist, startling you. 

“Eddie!” You shriek, slapping his arm, you glare at him as he starts laughing at your reaction. 

“Eddie!” He mimics, pouting at you. 

You roll your eyes, clenching your jaw. 

“Leave her alone, Munson,” Steve chuckles as he throws some popcorn at him, some of it landing in your hair as well and your cleavage. 

Eddie snorts, looking down at his chest, he picks up some of the popcorn and pops it in his mouth, “thanks, I was just about to get some popcorn.” 

You shake your head when Steve throws more at him, ducking out of the way, you pick out the ones in your hair. Eddie snatches them out of your hand, “give them to me.” 

You furrow your brows, watching him eat them. 

“You want this one too?” You joke as you reach for the one that got stuck in your cleavage. 

His eyes widen, a smirk tugging at his lips, he looks into your eyes and you can already see the mischief, the kind of smile that tells that he is up to no good. He leans closer, instead of taking it with his fingers, he opens his mouth, waiting for you to place it on his tongue. 

You swallow nervously, your hand moves out of instinct, placing the sweet treat on his tongue, you gasp a little when he wraps his lips around your finger. 

What the fuck?

Your eyes widen, heat rushes to your cheeks and once again, Eddie forces you to squeeze your thighs together. His lips feel hot against your skin and he looks into your eyes as he licks your finger, you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to feel his lips on other parts of your body, to feel his tongue on your clit and his ringed fingers inside of you as he looks up at you the way he does right now. 

Eddie smirks, he knows what he has done to you. He pulls away, feeling satisfied enough, for now. He leans back against the soft cushions and places his hand on his chest, looking back at the screen, he acts like nothing even happened, while you are left a blushing mess. 

You blink and stare at him in disbelief, goosebumps litter your skin and your heart beats fastly in your chest. As you come back to reality, you suddenly grow incredibly embarrassed, knowing that Steve and Robin most likely watched it all happen but when you turn to glance at them, you notice that Robin is fast asleep and Steve’s eyes are glued to the TV, though the smirk on his face tells you that he saw it all. 

For the rest of the night, you sit there with a flustered look on your face, waiting for it to be over.

The following weeks, Eddie continues to act the same way, mostly. 

He is still mean, snappy and annoying but on top of that, he added his teasing. You know it’s only to humiliate you, knowing that he can make you blush, that he can make you feel something other than anger towards him, he can see the way you react to his subtle touches and suggestive comments. A part of you thought that he would be less rude after realizing that he can get a different kind of rise out of you but you thought wrong, if anything, he becomes meaner and meaner and it all takes an unexpected turn at Tina’s annual Halloween Party. 

Eddie only came reluctantly, he never liked parties and only ever came to make money or to accompany his friends. Steve and Robin are on the dance floor, throwing back drinks, laughing at their own jokes and dancing with a group of drunk and giggling girls. 

Eddie rolls his eyes as he looks around, recognizing some jocks from school with their cheerleader girlfriends who give him nasty looks. He clutches the can of beer tightly against his chest, he tries to entertain himself by looking at all the different costumes but not even that will distract him from the awful music, the annoying people or you. 

You are wearing a fairy costume, a really exposing one. Clad in a short sage green dress, a tight corset, wings that are littered with rhinestones and glitter, heeled boots and a tiara, you look more beautiful than ever, magical. 

Eddie’s heart fluttered in his chest when he saw you as him and Robin waited for you and Steve. He was actually frozen in place and awestruck and so was the guy, you are heavily flirting with right now. 

Your back is pressed against the wall, you’re giggling and smiling at the guy in front of you, his hand is placed against the wall next to your head, he ducks down a little, leaning closer to you so he can hear you better over the loud music. 

Eddie clenches his jaw, anger flooding through his veins the longer he watches you flirt with the jock he can’t remember the name of. 

He puts his other hand on your waist and leans in to whisper something into your ear, you bite your lip and nod causing more anger to rush through Eddie. He can’t stand this, the sight of some asshole touching you, playing with your hair and making you giggle. 

Eddie grips his drink tighter, enough to almost crush it. He watches you with darkened eyes. 

The guy takes your hand and begins to pull you away, the blush on your face is deep and you fight the smile off your face, you don’t even acknowledge Eddie’s presence as you walk past him, hand in hand with the other man who leads you towards the stairs. 

Eddie feels incredibly angry. 

It’s the kind of anger he had never felt before. 

He knows exactly what will happen once the jock has you all to himself and Eddie can’t stand the thought of it. The fire inside of him becomes unbearable, he can’t let it happen. He slams the can of beer on a nearby table and follows you, stomping after you angrily. He pushes some drunk guy out of his way who stumbles back, slurring some curse word at Eddie who doesn’t even bother to look at him. Before you can even take a step further, Eddie reaches for your hand and pulls you back. Your hand slips from the other’s man’s grip and you stumble back into Eddie’s chest, yelping. 

Your confused face meets his, your lips part when you see the anger in his eyes. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, sounding like a man, possessed. 

You furrow your brows, “w-what?” 

Your new friend turns around, looking between you and Eddie. 

“Get lost,” Eddie snaps at him, glaring at the jock, not bothering to look back, he just pulls you along with him, rolling his eyes at your protests. 

“Eddie!” You slap his arm, “let me go!” 

He only shakes his head, walking towards the entrance with a determined look on his face, he opens the door and pulls you out with him. Shutting it behind you and standing it front it so you won’t be able to get back in. 

“What the hell is your problem!”

“What were you doing with that guy?” He asks, completely ignoring your question or the angry look on your face. 

He irritates you in the worst ways possible.

“That’s none of your business, Munson!” You yell, “why do you even care?” 

Eddie avoids eye contact, he looks down at the ground instead and sighs. 

“You do know that he just wants to fuck you, right?” He mumbles. 

“Yeah, you do know that maybe I wanted just that?” You retort, throwing your hands up, “if you haven’t noticed, I don’t really have a boyfriend, oh and might I add that it’s probably your fault?” 

To hear that you wanted to hook up with some random guy, some jock, makes him feel sick but to hear you saying that you don’t have a boyfriend because of him makes him smirk, he can’t even fight it off, not even when he looks up at you and feigns annoyance, “why me?” 

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, you can’t even feel the breeze on your exposed skin, you are too angry to notice anything. 

“Every time a guy even looks my way, you’re there, scaring them away! And god forbid someone even comes close to me or touches me in any way!” 

You are fed up with him and his stupid actions. 

You know why he is doing it, he wants to see you miserable and you are miserable, he knows that. He can see the longing looks in your eyes whenever you see a cute couple out on the streets, the sad smiles that pull at your lips whenever you see a guy getting his girlfriend flowers, taking her out on dates or even something as simple as opening the door for her and placing his hand on the small of her back. 

You crave intimacy, you crave having someone to call your own, being someone's favorite person. Yeah, you might be Steve’s favorite person, his girl but you won’t be forever, someday he is gonna meet that one girl that he will drop anyone and anything for, even you and when that happens, you won’t have anyone. 

You aren’t lucky in the dating department, at all. If it isn’t Eddie scaring the guys away, then it’s you, doing it for him. 

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” You ask, “I know you hate me but god, when I hate someone, I stay away from them, why can’t you do the same for me?” 

Eddie frowns at your words, his eyes flash with guilt when he sees the tears in your eyes, you aren’t just angry this time, you’re also hurt. 

“Maybe I was just protecting you,” he shrugs. 

You scoff at his words, shaking your head, you pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes for a moment, “protect me,” you mumble, “right, am I supposed to believe that?” You ask as you look back into his eyes. You struggle to read him. Eddie’s walls are so high up, you can’t even sneak a peek. 

He nods, “yes, the guy is a jock, bee.” 

“So?” 

“He would just hurt you!” He says angrily, taking a step forward, “he would get his dick wet and leave you with nothing, then he would brag about it to his friends and I can assure you, that guy doesn’t even know how to make a girl cum, I did you a favor.” 

You raise your eyebrows, tilting your head, “do you?” 

He blinks. 

“What?” 

“Do you know how to make a girl cum?” 

He blushes at your words, drawing back a little, he straightens up and chuckles, “of course.” 

You lick your lips, looking him up and down. Eddie must be one of the only ones without a costume, you wonder why he isn’t wearing one, that guy is in love with his fantasy game, there is no way that he is no fan of Halloween and costumes. 

“Right,” you snort. 

“You don’t believe me?” He asks as he steps even closer to you. 

You shrug, “nope, I don’t believe you.” 

One moment, he was standing feets away from you and suddenly, he is right in front of you. Dangerously close. You have to tilt your head to meet his eyes and when you do, your heart skips a beat. His eyes are dark, pupils blown as he sneaks a look at your lips. 

You can smell his cologne, his aftershave, him. You would never tell him that but he drives you crazy, he makes your stomach flutter, he stays on your mind for too long, sneaking his way into your thoughts when you touch yourself at night. 

Eddie reaches his hand out to touch your face, he cups your cheek and lets his thumb rest on your bottom lip. Just like the night at Steve’s place, your breath hitches in your throat and you grow incredibly flustered. 

“Do you want me to show you?” He whispers. 

Your eyes widen, a small gasp falls from your lips. 

What? 

No way, did he just ask you that? 

He is playing with you, isn’t he? 

By now he knows the effect he has on you. He knows that you blush when he is around, he knows that you feel something when he touches you, he knows that you can’t get him off your mind. He knows it all and he decides to use it against you, he knows that he can humiliate you, he knows that he can hurt you and it brings him enjoyment. 

The smirk on his face and the amusement in his eyes tells you all that. Internally, he is making fun of you, he is satisfied that he ruined your night and as though that isn’t enough, he now uses your attraction towards him as a weapon, to laugh about you later on and make fun of you with his band buddies.

You slap his hand away, your brows draw together and your nervous stare turns into an angry frown, “don’t touch me, asshole.” 

Though he is a little surprised, he still chuckles. 

You shake your head and step away from him, turning around, you don’t even bother going back inside to let your friends know that you’re leaving or to get your jacket, you just want to be away from him. 

It’s late and it’s cold, you are scared to walk through the empty streets alone but you are too stubborn to back around. 

“Hey!” 

You roll your eyes at him and continue to walk. 

“Where are you going?” 

You don’t bother to answer, you hug yourself tighter to shield yourself from the cold, blinking away the angry tears. The streets are empty, aside from the many cars on the side of the streets, you walk past Steve’s car, suddenly regretting the decision to walk away and choosing to walk home alone, on Halloween night.

You hear his footsteps though and as much as you hate to admit it, you do feel at ease knowing that he comes after you. 

Eddie rolls his eyes at your silence but he admires the view in front of him. Your dress is a thin and flowy one, it swats from one side to the other with each step that you take, the wind causes it to lift up a bit, exposing your naked skin. Eddie almost growls at the side of it. 

“Bee!” 

“Stop calling me that, you dick!” 

Eddie snorts at you, your insults never hurt him, if anything, they amuse him. When you look at him with anger in your eyes and snap back at him, you look cuter than ever. He picks up the pace and just as you pass his van, he grabs your arm and pulls you back, smirking at your little yelp, he slams you against his van and steps in front of you, caging you against it. 

It’s dark and yet he can see the nervous and shy look in your eyes, he can see the way you tense up and press yourself against the van as though it will make you feel him any less against you. 

“Will you stop running away from me?” 

He places his hands on your waist, touching you in such a gentle way that it makes your knees buckle, almost. You look into his dark eyes, growing more and more irritated. Why can’t he just let you go? Why can’t he just stay out of your goddamn way? Why does he have to make things so hard for you? 

You hate him. 

“Will you stop sticking your nose into my business?” You ask angrily as you place your hand on his chest to push him away, as though you will find the strength to, “will you stop following me around just to piss me off? Seriously, what do you get out of this, huh?” 

Eddie shrugs, the smirk remains on his lips, he eyes the scowl on your face, the flash with irritation in your eyes, he looks down at your chest, watching the way it rises up and down heavily. 

“It’s fun to see you like this.” 

You clench your jaw and scoff. 

“It’s fun to ruin my life?” 

Now it’s his turn to scoff, he rolls his eyes at your words, “you’re so dramatic.” 

"Oh, am I?" You mumble. 

He nods, his grip tightens on your waist, butterflies flutter in your stomach and you despise it. You despise the emotions he causes you to feel. 

“Yeah, I ruined your life because you didn’t get to fuck that jock?” He snorts, narrowing his eyes at you, “you are dramatic, bee.” 

You close your eyes and lower your head, shaking it as you take deep breaths. 

“You are so annoying.” 

“Hmm, what was that?” Eddie whispers, placing his finger under your chin, he tilts your head up, “say that again.” 

You swallow nervously, not opening your eyes just yet, you lick your lips, “you are annoying.”

“Why?” 

“Why?” You laugh in disbelief as you open your eyes to look at him. He is staring at you with curiosity on his face, tilting his head as he waits for your explanation. 

“You gotta be kidding me,” you scoff, pulling your hand away from his chest, you wrap it around his wrist instead and force his hand away from your face, “is that actually a serious question?” 

He purses his lips and nods, “yep.” 

“You’re an asshole, Eddie!” 

He rolls his eyes, “yeah, you said that before.” 

“Yeah and you don’t believe me! You treat me like shit–”

“No, I don’t!” 

“Yes, you do, Eddie!” You exclaim, “you say mean shit all the time, you make dumb comments and tease me and then act like nothing ever happened!” 

“Tease you how?” He smirks, completely ignoring the rest of your words. 

You squint your eyes, huffing angrily. Is he actually clueless or does he just want to see you so angry and embarrassed? Either way, he always gets what he wants. 

“You sucked on my finger and then you acted like nothing happened!”

Your angry pout makes his heart soar. 

“That’s what you’re so upset about?” He chuckles. 

His smirk causes the outburst of anger, you finally push him away from you. There is absolutely nothing amusing about this situation, at least not to you. 

“Wipe that smirk off your goddamn face, Munson! I can’t stand when you do that!” 

“Did you want me to do more than that?” He asks. 

“You wish,” you scoff, “you think I want you?” 

If you didn’t know any better, you would say that hurt flashed in his eyes but that can’t be, right? Why would he be hurt by anything you say? 

He chuckles bitterly and nods to himself. 

“No,” he mumbles, “I know you don’t want me. A fancy little princess like you wants someone like that jock, you want someone who will buy you shit, someone who will spoil you, take you on dates to Enzo’s or whatever, someone you can take home to your rich parents, someone you won’t feel embarrassed to be with, someone you can be seen with, someone you will have that ‘perfect’ future with.” 

Confused, you stare at him with a frown on your face. 

Eddie’s anger comes out of nowhere the way it always does. 

“But sweetheart, none of them can give you what you need.”

“W-What do I need?” You ask, waiting for him to continue. He watches the way your eyes flicker down to his lips before they meet his eyes again.   

“They can’t touch you like you crave to be touched, they can’t kiss you like you wanna be kissed, they can’t fuck you like you wanna be fucked, they can’t treat you like you deserve to be treated.” 

Your breath hitches in your throat, your lips part in surprise, your heart begins to pound against your ribcage. 

Eddie somehow made his way into your personal space again. He is close enough for you to feel his breath on your skin. 

“You need someone to put you in your place, you need someone to be rough with you, someone who can treat you like the little slut that you are,” he says, gripping your face in his large hand, “I see the way you look at me when you think that I’m not paying attention, I can see the way you squeeze your thighs together when you look at my hands, I bet you wonder what it would feel like if I touched you, huh? I bet you touch yourself and think about me, about my hands, about my fingers in your tight little pussy.” 

Your eyes widen, heat rushes to your cheeks, you are too overwhelmed to keep your eyes locked with his, so you look down. 

Eddie smirks but it’s a dark smirk, a bitter one. 

“Bet you are disgusted by yourself, huh?” He spits as he grips you tighter, “thinking about fucking the dirty town freak, I bet you hate yourself for wanting to ride my dick, that’s why you’re always such a bitch to me, right?” He asks angrily, “you take your anger out on me because you can’t stand yourself for wanting to fuck me?” 

You shake your head. He is wrong, so wrong. He is no dirty freak in your eyes and you are not disgusted by him, you are disgusted by yourself for wanting someone who hates your guts so much, not for who he is. Eddie is amazing to his friends but unfortunately, you aren’t one of them. 

You never hated Eddie, at least not until he forced you to hate him. 

“No.” 

“No?” He murmurs as he leans even closer to you, “you don’t think about me?” 

You shift, looking up at him with a shy expression, you don’t bother answering, your silence gives it away. 

You do think about him. He knows it. 

You hate the way he looks so sure of his words, the way he thinks that he has you all figured out, the way he thinks he knows everything about you. 

“Get away from me, Eddie,” you say with a shaky voice and an unsure voice, you both know that you don’t want it, you don’t want him to get away. 

He licks his lips as he stares down at you. The look in his eyes makes you cower back a little, it makes you feel nervous but also flustered. Eddie raises his hand up to your face, he tucks your hair behind your ear and leans down, surprising you by pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder. 

Your lips part and you hold your breath. 

“Why?” He whispers as he kisses you again, higher this time, “scared that you will fall for the town freak?” His fingers play with the thin material of your dress, pushing it a little aside so he has more access to your shoulder, he presses his plump lips back against your shoulder, kissing you again and again, “scared that you will hate yourself for it?” 

You can’t even utter a single word, too many emotions rush through you. You are confused about this, you are angry about his words but you are also aroused and yes, you do hate yourself for it but not for the reason he thinks. 

His hand grips your waist, he pulls you flush against him and you gasp when you feel his bulge pressing against your stomach. Eddie attaches his lips to your neck, “scared that no one else will wanna touch you after the freak fucked you? What would they think if they already knew that you are fantasizing about it? I bet they would think you’re disgusting–” 

“God, shut the fuck up!” 

You push him away from you with force, your breathing is heavy, just like his. Eddie looks a little surprised by your sudden outburst, rejection crosses his features, his brows drag together and he opens his mouth to speak, probably to say something hurtful after you just pushed him away like that, he wants the upper hand but you won’t let him have it, not this time. 

“Just shut up,” you repeat. 

He presses his lips together in a straight line, he is tense, his eyes hold a combination of hurt and anger. The tension between the two of you is thick. Nothing else but you both exist in this moment. You don’t hear the faint music from the ongoing party, you don’t feel the cold wind on your exposed skin, you don’t hear the rustling of the leaves but you hear his heavy breathing, you hear the pounding of your heart, you feel the pull towards him. 

Eddie waits for you to say something, to do something. A part of him expects you to slap him for kissing you without permission, the other part expects you to hurt him with cruel words but neither of those things happen. 

You stare at him for what feels like forever. Your eyes flicker to his lips and back to his eyes, your stomach flutters and your knees feel weak, you’re angry but you also long for him. 

Fuck it. 

You take a step forward and look into his awaiting eyes. 

Fuck it, y/n.

You grab his face and pull him down, you close your eyes and slam your lips against his. Eddie’s eyes widen, he stares at you in shock and confusion. You are kissing him. You are kissing him! And your lips feel as soft as he always imagined them to feel like. His heart begins to race. 

Kiss her, idiot! He tells himself. He cups your cheeks and pulls you closer, closing his eyes, he finally kisses you back and if this isn’t the best feeling in the world then he doesn’t know what is. 

You slide your hands down to his neck, holding him tightly as you deepen the kiss. Eddie parts his lips, allowing you to slip your tongue past his lips. He moans at the feeling, his skin and his lips tingle, he already feels addicted to your touch. 

The kiss is nothing but passionate, it’s soft and gentle but you want more, you want to feel him closer and closer, you slide your hand down his stomach and wrap your arm around his waist, pressing him tighter against you. He moans at the feeling, his heart flutters. 

Eddie walks you back and slams you against his van, earning a whimper from you. You kiss each other until you are both short of oxygen and gasping for air but even as he pulls away, his lips keep touching yours. You breathe into each other’s mouths, keeping each other close as your eyes lock again. 

He wants you, you can see it in his eyes. 

This time it’s him who initiates the kiss, he slams his lips roughly against yours causing you to let out a loud and needy whimper, you can feel him smirking against your lips. 

This kiss is rough and angry. Your lips smack loudly against each other, your teeth clash but neither of you care, you pull his hair and make him growl. He digs his ringed fingers into your waist as he pushes his knee in between your thighs. 

“Eddie,” you gasp as he starts kissing his way down to your neck. 

“Yes?” 

“I know you hate me,” you whisper as you close your eyes and put your hand in his hair, holding onto his curl as he begins to suck on your sweet spot. 

No, he doesn’t hate you. How could he? Instead of telling you this, he keeps quiet, choosing to continue kissing you. 

“Show me.” 

“Show you what?” 

“Show me how much you hate me,” you whisper, “please.” 

Eddie opens his eyes and he pulls away from your neck to look at you. He can see the look in your eyes, the intrigued and needy one. 

You want him just like he wants you. 

“Are you sure?” 

For a split second, you see a different side of him, a soft one, a caring one. 

You nod. 

He grabs your jaw, tilting your head up so you are forced to look at him, “I need words, sweetheart.” 

You nod again, “yes, I’m sure.” 

Without wasting another second, Eddie unlocks his van and pushes you into the back, closing the door behind him. He fumbles around in the dark for a moment until he finds the switch that turns on the little light.

Looking around, you raise your brows, feeling a little impressed by the lack of the mess you expected. A few pillows are laying around, blankets, even a few comics. You know that he and Robin used to go to the drive-in movie theaters a lot but you can’t help but wonder if he ever brings other girls in here. If he brought the pillows and blankets here just for them so they can feel comfortable. You wonder how he treats them, does he tease them like he teases you? Does he kiss them like he just kissed you? Is he mean to them? Or is he sweet to them? Does he treat them better than he treats you? 

Suddenly, you feel yourself frowning and growing insecure and unsure. Do you really want to fuck the guy that hates you with a passion? 

But you never answer your own question. Eddie grabs your face and pulls you back in for a heated kiss. You kiss back without a moment of hesitation. 

His scent, his taste, his touch, you are addicted already and you feel the hatred for yourself growing. You don't know that he feels the same about you, that he loves the way you taste, that he loves the way you smell so sweet, you don't know that he just loves you.

You push his jacket off his shoulders while he fumbles with the wings on your costume, surprising you by taking them off carefully so he doesn’t break them. Something about the way he parts from the kiss, to put the wings down gently, makes your heart flutter. 

You blink, forcing yourself to look away from him. You take the tiara off your head and place it on the ground as well, reaching for the zipper on your dress– “stop, let me.” Eddie mumbles as he reaches around you to undo it. You stare at him, admiring the way his brown eyes shine so beautifully beneath the dim light. He pushes your dress down to your stomach, his eyes flickering with something you cannot read. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles as he eyes your lacy bra, your boobs, your soft skin, “you’re so sexy,” he breathes, forgetting about the hate he is supposed to show to you, “so beautiful, shit..” 

Eddie doesn’t notice the emotions in your eyes, the lingering sadness and the insecurity. You distract yourself by kissing him again and again, reaching for the hem of his shirt, you take it off of him. He throws it behind him on the floor. 

You place your hands on his pale chest, taking in the sight of his tattoos, you feel the urge to kiss every single one of them. 

Eddie admires the way you look at him, the way your lips part and your eyes flash with emotions. He touches your cheeks, moving your hair out of your face. You look up at him with big eyes, “touch me.” 

He smirks, “don’t have to ask me twice.” 

He pushes you down carefully, making sure that you lie your head on the pillows, your back meets the soft cushions and you sigh as you feel his cold hands on your stomach, you’re almost too shy to look up at him but when you do, your heart stops. 

Eddie stares down at you in awe, he bunches your dress up on your waist and eyes you up and down, from your pretty face to your chest, your stomach and your clothed pussy. He pushes your legs apart and settles in between them, putting your legs over his, he spreads you open and stares at the wet spot on your pink panties. 

“Fuck,” he growls, all his blood rushes to his dick, as though he wasn’t hard already, he feels himself growing harder, “I’m gonna ruin your pussy, baby.” 

Your cunt clenches around nothing, you take in a sharp breath as his eyes meet yours, “take your bra off,” he orders. 

You bite your lip, pushing yourself up on your elbows, you do as he said, pushing the straps of your bra down first, you watch the way his eyes darken when you reach behind you to unclasp it. You blush, feeling yourself getting shy under his gaze. 

“Show me your tits, pretty girl.” 

You hate him, you hate him so much.

You throw your bra to the side and lie back against the pillows.

He grips your thighs tightly, eyes flashing with hunger, “perfect fucking tits,” he murmurs as he slides one hand up to touch your boobs. 

“Eddie,” you whimper. 

He adjusts your legs, wrapping them around his waist, his clothed dick brushes against your pussy, making you both moan in pleasure. He leans down to kiss your chest, taking one nipple in his mouth, he begins to suck on it. 

“Oh.. Eddie,” you moan as you throw your hand in his hair, “i-is that how you treat people you hate?” 

He chuckles against you, pulling away from you, he gives you a suggestive look as he sits back up, he shakes his head at you, “just you, baby,” he says. 

“Touch yourself.” 

You blink. 

“What?” 

He looks down, bringing his hand to your aching pussy, he touches you over your panties, rubbing your clit teasingly, smirking at your little whine. 

“Touch yourself or I won’t fuck you.” 

Perv. 

You swallow nervously, slipping your hand down your stomach, you close your eyes and touch yourself over your panties, spreading your legs wider, you start rubbing your clit. 

“Open your eyes,” he demands, catching you off guard by smacking your ass. You gasp and open your eyes, seeing the dark look in his eyes makes you even wetter, “look at me when you touch yourself.” 

You nod. 

“Show me how you touch yourself when you’re all alone, baby. Tell me what you think about.” 

A shiver runs down your spine. You always thought about this, about him. It’s hot to see him so rough and dominating but a part of you hates that he gets to have all the control. You push yourself up a little and bring your hand up to his lips, looking into his curious eyes, you smirk, “spit on them.” 

He raises his brows, eyes flashing with surprise. He does it without questioning you. Spitting onto your fingers.

“Thanks,” you mumble. You push your panties to the side and touch yourself with your spit covered fingers, letting out a loud moan as you run your fingers through your wet folds before you begin to rub your aching clit. 

Eddie’s dick twitches in his pants as he watches you. 

“Such a pretty pussy, fuck,” he grunts, fighting the urge to bury his face in your cunt. 

“You wanna know what I think about when I touch myself?” 

“Yes.. fuck, yes. I wanna know.” 

You smirk at him. You won’t give him what he wants, you won’t let him hear what he wants to hear. Why should you? He is gonna treat you even worse when this is over, why should you give him the truth? 

“I-I think about Steve,” you moan as you push a finger inside of you, “I think about my best friend fucking me with his big fat cock.” Lies. You think about him fucking you, you think about him splitting you open, you think about him eating you out, fingering you with his rings on, making you his slut. 

Eddie’s smirk falls from his face, his eyes darken. 

You add a second finger and push it in and out of your wet pussy, moaning at the feeling, “I think about him making me cry as he takes me from behind, as he– fuck.. as he slaps my ass and does whatever he wants.” 

You are lying, he knows you’re lying. The look on your face tells him that but he still grows angry and jealous. 

You fuck yourself on your fingers, throwing your head back in pleasure as you move them in and out, “I think about riding his dick, about how he would cum inside of me and fill me up until I’m–” 

“Shut the fuck up, you little whore,” Eddie growls, grabbing your wrist, he slams it against the floor and replaces your fingers with his, pushing his long and thick fingers into your hole. 

You gasp loudly, squeezing your eyes shut as you finally feel his fingers inside you, finally getting to feel what you always dreamed about.

His other hand grabs your cheeks, squishing them together roughly, “I told you to look at me!” 

Your stomach clenches as does your cunt, your mouth waters at the feeling of him spreading you open. 

“Open your eyes, brat.” 

You open your eyes to look at his angry ones. You have never seen him this angry before. You should be scared, you know that. But instead you feel yourself getting more needy, more wet, more aroused. You moan even louder than before and grind back against his fingers. 

“Now tell me the truth,” he says through gritted teeth as he starts to fuck you with his fingers, “who do you think about?” 

You push yourself up on your elbows to watch him, to see how they move in and out of you. 

“S-Steve.” 

He slaps your cheek lightly causing you to whimper. 

“Liar,” he grunts, he leans over you, wrapping his hand around your neck, he slams you back down and looks into your needy eyes as he continues to slam his fingers in and out of you. 

“Eddie,” you whimper.

“That’s right,” he grunts, “say my name.” 

He adds a third finger, thrusting them in and out of you. His fingers reach deeper than yours, they reach the spot that you can’t, his rings and the coldness of them just bring more pleasure to your body. You lose yourself in the feeling, you close your eyes despite him telling you not to, your lips part and you chant his name like a prayer. You arch your back in pleasure, tears well up in your eyes. 

Eddie stares at you, he watches the way your chest rises up and down, the way you flinch a little when his hand leaves your neck to touch your boob, to play with your nipple. Your stomach tenses up, your pussy clenches around his fingers, you are so wet, he can feel your juices dripping down his fingers, the squelching noises and your moans just make it all even more erotic. 

You whimper his name so beautifully. 

“Eddie, please.” 

“Please what?” 

“I wanna cum,” you please, “please let me cum.” 

A devilish smirk appears on his face, “oh, you’re gonna cum, baby.” 

His words should intimidate you, they should leave you feeling nervous but instead they make you crave him even more. 

Eddie leans down and as you feel him shifting, you open your eyes to look at him. He picks up the pace, fucking you harder and faster on his fingers as he presses his tongue against your sensitive clit. 

“Oh fuck! Eddie!” 

“Mhmm,” he hums against you, looking up at you as he licks your clit, “taste so sweet.” 

You spread your legs wider for him and push your hand in his hair, tugging at his dark curls. 

“I can feel you clenching around my fingers, baby,” he murmurs against you, “you wanna cum for me? Do it.” 

It doesn’t take long for you to reach your high, you cum around his fingers just as he tells you too, you moan loudly, gasping for air but Eddie doesn’t stop there, he pulls his fingers out. He throws your legs over his shoulders and before you can even react, he buries his face in your pussy, slipping his tongue into you, he moans loudly. 

“Eddie,” you whine as you watch him through blurry eyes, his rough hands dig into your thighs as he holds them wide open, his eyes are closed as he eats you out, “oh my god.” 

Eddie loves the way you taste, the way you sound, the way you feel, the way you beg for him. 

“Feels so good…” 

He loves knowing that he is the one making you feel so good. 

He opens his eyes to look at you, you’re staring at him already, barely able to keep your eyes open, you hold onto his hair so tightly. A single tear slips down your hot cheek. 

“You taste so good, sweetheart,” he breathes, smirking at you when he spits on your clit before he places his thumb against it. 

Your eyes roll back and you throw your head against the pillows, you try closing your legs but Eddie is stronger than you. 

“P-Please..” You sob, pulling at his hair even harder causing him to growl in response. He flicks his tongue inside of you and presses harder against your clit and before you know it, you cum again. 

Tears run down your cheeks, you are so sensitive already. 

“No more,” you whimper as he continues to lick your pussy, “please.. I just want your cock.” 

Eddie smirks at you, pulling away, he sits back up. 

Your heart flutters as you look at him. His cheeks are flushed, his curls are messy, his chin is glistening from your juices, saliva dripping down his chest. 

You look so fucked out already, sweat coats your forehead, your breathing is heavy and you push your thighs together as you look up at him. Eddie unbuckles his belt, pushing his jeans and boxers down just below his ass, his dick slaps against his stomach.

You push yourself up on your elbows, biting your lip as you stare at him, “do you want me to suck your dick?” You ask as you reach your hand out to wrap your fingers around his thick cock, you lick your lips, pre cum is rolling down his length and it takes everything in you not to take him into your mouth. 

Eddie hisses at your touch, his eyelashes flutter. 

“Do you want to fuck my face?” You ask, innocently. 

He growls, eyes darkening, he shakes his head, “next time, baby. I need to be inside of you,” he says. 

“Condom?” You ask. 

He closes his eyes, cursing at himself, “I don’t have any.” 

You raise your brows, “what do you mean, you don’t have any?” 

“It means I don’t have any!” He snaps at you. 

“Don’t you use condoms when you fuck?” 

A loud laugh falls from his lips, he opens his eyes, shaking his head, “when I fuck? Sweetheart, I don’t get laid very often. I have a whole unopened box of condoms at home,” he snorts. 

“You don’t fuck girls in your van?” 

“Y/n, the last time I fucked someone, I stole a condom from Jeff and no, I don’t fuck girls in my van.”

Relief floods through you, here you thought that he was fucking girls in his van and getting laid every weekend.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull him down against you, catching him by surprise. He presses his hands against the floor and looks down at you. 

“And I’m not really into fucking random girls,” he adds. 

Your eyes widen a little, “am I not a random girl?” 

He chuckles, shaking his head. 

You could never be a random girl. 

“No, you’re my enemy,” he says before he slams his lips against yours. 

You whine against him and kiss him roughly, digging your feet into his ass, you pull him even closer until you feel his cock rubbing against your pussy. He moans in pleasure, gripping your hips tightly. 

“Fuck me, please. I don’t care about the condom, just fuck me,” you murmur against his lips, holding his neck tightly, “please.” 

“Are you sure?” He asks, eying your expression, slowly. 

You nod, “very sure.” 

Eddie pecks your lip softly. For someone who wanted to fuck you, he sure is a little soft with you. 

He leans back, staring down at you in awe, he grabs your waist, licking his lips. You watch him, looking at the way he wraps his ringed fingers around his cock, he slides it through your wet folds, teasing your clit with the tip. 

“Shit,” he shudders, “you’re so wet. All for me, right?” 

You bite your lip, furrowing your brows as you gulp, nodding. 

“Say it’s all for me,” he demands. 

“It’s for you,” you whine, “all for you, asshole!” 

He chuckles darkly, shaking his head at you. You open your mouth again but before you can say anything, Eddie grabs you tighter and in one motion, he thrusts into you, earning a loud gasp from you. 

He whimpers at the feeling of your tight walls, leaning down, he buries his face in the crook of your neck. 

“Fuck…” You whimper, wrapping your arms around him, “Eddie.” You clench around his cock and hold him tightly. 

“You’re so tight and wet,” he grunts against your shoulder, “‘m not gonna last long if you keep clenching around me like this.” 

“I told you to show me how much you hate me, Eddie,” you breathe, digging your nails into his back, “so far you’re not doing a good job.” 

Something inside of him snaps, he pulls back, placing one hand around your neck, he puts the other one on the pillow next to you. He glares at you. 

“You’re a brat, you know that, right?” He growls as he begins to thrust into you. 

You gasp at the feeling, taking a deep breath. 

“Always getting on my goddamn nerves,” he grunts as he tightens his hold on your neck, he pulls out and pushes back inside of you, roughly. “You have no idea how many times I wanted to do this.” He thrusts deeper, rougher, faster. “How many times I wanted to fuck your needy little pussy and watch you cry for more.” 

You look down, watching the way he fucks you roughly on his cock. He moves his hands down to grab your hips with both hands. 

“Look at me, baby,” he moans as he starts to pound your pussy, “look at the way you’re taking my cock.. Your pussy was made for me, you were made for me.” 

The knot in your stomach tightens, the fire inside of you burns. You feel him in your stomach. You wrap your legs tighter around him and throw your hand back to wrap it around his wrist, “fuck me harder!” You beg, despite the overwhelming sensation in your bones. 

“Harder?” He chuckles, “I’ll give you harder, you little brat.” 

He enjoys the way you squirm under his body, the way you struggle to take his big cock and yet ask for more. For a moment, he just watches you, he watches the way his cock disappears in your body, the way your juices drip down on the blanket beneath you, the way you throw your head back in pleasure and cry for him, the way your boobs bounce as he ruts into you. You are struggling, your moans are getting high pitched, tears are streaming down your face as you move your head to the side. 

“Feels so good, Eddie,” you whimper. 

His mouth waters, his stomach clenches as your pussy flutters around his dick. He moans desperately, closing his eyes for a second as he feels himself getting closer. He leans down, grabbing your face, “look at me,” he whispers, “open your eyes and look at me.” 

You grip his wrist tighter and open your eyes to look at him, your breathing stutters as you see the way he looks at you, there is something in his eyes you haven’t seen before but you decide to ignore it. 

“Open your mouth and stick your tongue out.” 

Your eyes widen but you do as he says, opening it, you stick it out for him and maintain eye contact. 

He grabs your chin, smirking at you before he spits in your mouth. 

Now, if anyone else had done that to you, you would spit it right out and slap them across the face but something about him doing it to you makes you clench even harder around him, the moans you get from him make you shiver. 

“Fuck, you like that huh?” He mumbles as you swallow it, he pats your cheek, “you filthy little slut.” 

“Mhmm, I like it,” you smirk and pull him down for a kiss. 

You can feel his dick twitching inside of you, his thrusts are getting sloppier and his moans are getting louder and more desperate. You kiss each other roughly and hold each other tight. His chest is pressed against yours, he pulls his wrist out of your grip to hold your hand instead. 

You jolt as you feel his fingertips on your clit. 

“Cum for me,” he mumbles against your lips, “cum on my dick.”

You moan loudly as you cum around him, you scratch his back as you dig your nails into his skin causing him to groan loudly. You clench hard around him and pull him even closer. 

“Baby.. fuck.. fuck,” he whimpers against you, “I’m gonna cum,” he warns, unsure of where you want him. 

“Cum inside me… ‘wanna feel you, Eddie.” 

His heart flutters and his eyes widen as he looks down at you, “you sure?” 

“Mhmm, please…” 

“Fuck… okay.. shit, baby,” he whimpers as he picks up the pace again, “you want me to breed you, huh? You want me to fill you up with my cum, shit.. I will. I’m gonna leave you dripping for days.. I’m gonna make you mine.” 

Mine. 

“No one’s ever touching you again,” he moans, “gonna– oh fuck…” He grunts as he places his fingers back against your clit. 

“Eddie!” You sob, squeezing your eyes shut as you feel an even stronger sensation in your lower belly. He drills in and out of you in such a rough way, you can’t even feel your legs anymore or the tears that stream down your cheeks all you feel is him. 

“I know you got one more in you, baby,” he grunts, kissing your lips, “cum with me.. one more time.” 

“I can’t!” You sob. 

“Yes, you can, I can feel it, you’re getting tighter around me, just let go for me.” 

You can’t even help it, you bite his shoulder and cage him in against you with your legs. He grunts in pain and whimpers in pleasure, he thrusts into you once, twice– “cum with me!” 

You let go and cum around him as he releases inside of you, filling you up with his seed. 

He whimpers into your neck, holding you tightly as he moans at the feeling. His hips stutter and he finally falls against you. You’re drooling on his shoulder, whimpering at the feeling of his twitching cock inside your pussy. Eddie breathes heavily, not pulling out just yet, he slumps against you and presses lazy kisses on your shoulder. 

“Fuck,” he sighs with a grin on his face that you can’t see. 

You’re barely able to keep your eyes open, letting go of him, you drop your arms to your sides and close your eyes. 

“I can’t feel my legs,” you whisper. 

Eddie smirks, “guess I fucked you good, huh?”

You roll your eyes but can’t help but smile, “guess so…”

“What do you mean ‘guess so’?” He scoffs as he pulls himself up a little to look at you, “you came four times, you brat.” 

“Should’ve made that five times,” you shrug. 

Eddie shakes his head at you, though he can’t help but smirk, you’re a mess. Your hair is disheveled, your cheeks are wet from the tears, your body is hot and shaking from all the orgasms he just pulled out of you. 

Grabbing your cheeks, he turns your face towards him, “does that mean I get to make you cum again?” He smirks. 

You lick your lips, staring at the spot on his shoulder that you dug your teeth in, you reach out to touch it, “if you want to,” you shrug, acting like it means nothing to you. 

“If I want to?” He asks, “what about you, do you want to?” 

You are too scared to show him that you do but right now, he isn’t scared to show you how vulnerable he can be. His eyes that usually only ever hold anger for you, hold nothing but hope, it confuses you a little. 

You furrow your brows, “I-I don’t know,” you whisper, unable to look into his eyes any longer, you push him back, “get off, please.” 

He shakes his head and cups your cheeks, “no, look at me,” he demands, softly. 

You blink, swallowing nervously as you look back into his eyes, “you got what you wanted, Eddie.” 

“What do you mean?” He frowns. 

“You fucked me, put me in my place or whatever, now you can move on to someone else.” 

He scoffs, “is that what you think of me?” 

You shrug, looking at him with uncertainty in your eyes, “can you blame me?” You whisper, “you treat me like shit.” 

His eyes flash with guilt, he nods to himself. Without another word, he pulls away from you, pulling out with a hiss, he puts your panties back in place and puts his boxers and jeans back on. 

He fucked up, he knows it. Eddie always struggled with the feelings he had for you. Robin was right when she called him immature for treating you like this– the girl that he secretly loves. He hoped that this would change something but he thought wrong, if anything, he had made things worse for himself, knowing that he got to have you this once and probably never again, breaks his heart. 

Eddie hates himself at this moment. 

You glance at him as you put your dress back on, not bothering with your bra. Eddie’s hair is a mess, his cheeks are still red, his shoulder and neck littered with bite marks from you. He blinks fastly, as though he tries to blink tears away, it makes your heart clench in your chest. You want to pull him back into your arms and kiss him. Is it a good idea though? Probably not. 

You fix your hair and smooth out your dress. Eddie puts his shirt back on, sniffling quietly. 

Tears well up in your eyes as you remember all the times that he made you feel bad, all the times he pissed you off and made you angry, all the times he made you feel insecure, yet nothing, absolutely nothing made you feel worse than this. 

You leave. You get out of the van on shaky legs, placing your feet on the concrete floor, you blink the tears away as you step away from the van and from him. Now you feel the cold wind and the lonely feeling inside of you. You don’t wanna go, not after you had a taste of what it could be like if he just loved you. 

You halt in your tracks, closing your eyes, you take a deep breath. 

You can’t walk away, not from him. 

You turn back around and just as you take a step forward, Eddie suddenly jumps out of the van with a panicked look on his face and tears in his eyes. Surprised by your presence in front of him, he stares at you for a moment before he reaches out to grab your waist, you let him pull you closer, “please don’t go,” he whispers, “give me a chance, sweetheart. I'll fix things between us, I will, I promise, I will."

He pleads with his eyes and holds you tightly against him, afraid that you will disappear any moment. 

Your heart stutters and your knees almost buckle. 

“I-I know I fucked up but please–”

You kiss him for the hundredth time tonight and wrap your arms around him. He responds instantly, kissing you back softly and pressing your back against his van just like before, only this time, the kiss is sweet and filled with longing. 

“I’m crazy about you too,” you admit. 

“You are?” He asks. A smile tugs at his lips, happiness crosses his features. 

“Yeah,” you whisper. Placing your palms against his chest, you peck his lips again, “and I never think about Steve,” you mumble, cringing at the words that you have given him before, “he is my best friend and I never ever wanted him and he doesn’t want me either, Eddie.” 

He believes you. 

“I always just wanted you,” you whisper. 

His heart soars at your words, his gaze softens, he could melt right there and then, “do you still want me?” 

“Yes,” you whisper, “do you want me?” 

You look shy and uncertain of your words, you’re about to look down and break eye contact but he stops you from doing so, tilting your head up, he kisses your lips, “more than anything, sweetheart.” 

“Shit.” 

Robin smirks at Steve who holds your jacket in his hand. 

“I think you owe me 50 bucks.” 

Steve rolls his eyes as he watches you and Eddie making out against his van, “no, I don’t. We don’t know who made the first move.” 

Robin laughs, crossing her arms over her chest, “I’m saying she did, so..” 

Steve shakes his head, “no, Eddie was the one who made moves on her all this time, it was definitely him.” 

“You know what?” Robin tears his eyes away from you and Eddie and looks back at Steve, “I bet they’re gonna keep this a secret.” 

Steve smirks, shaking his head when he sees Eddie picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder, taking you back to his van. 

“Yeah and they’re definitely gonna slip up in the next two weeks.” 

Robin shakes her head, “no, y/n can keep a secret, I’m giving them three.” 

“Let’s bet on that then.” 

“Okay,” Robin nods, “let’s make it 100 bucks.” 

Steve sighs, “alright then, say goodbye to your money, Buckley.” 

“You wish.” 

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

So many lonely people on Kaiju No. 8 had found companionship with Kafka.

He's the personification of support. A senpai, a role model, a hero, a friend, a cadet, a reliable worker, even a crush. He's someone you can trust and someone that wants to be there for you. Even the comedy relief guy or the saviour of the day!!

In the latest manga chapters he was a plushie for a little girl.

There's Reno who lost his entire family. Kafka took the role of the senpai with him: guide and teach the guy, talk with him, show him how to survive and inspire him. Reno met a genuinely good guy that was openly offering his help and friendship, so he went back to thank him and do the same. Hey, your dream is not over, Reno said. What did he get in return? Kafka sacrificing his life for him, telling him to run, giving up the most important thing in his life for Reno.

There's Mina, who is terrified of being alone. She found a personal clown in Kafka, yes, but he was also the boy who helped her keep her hope and made things easier. He would always go with her to the shelter during a kaiju attack, even if he was in another school. He told her she didn't have to kill kaijus all alone. He promised to be by her side. Mina was thrown into a world of giant burdens and expectations, where her failures could mean death and destruction. Kafka saw her not as the weapon she was, but as Mina.

Hoshina was constantly disrespected, overlooked and ignored. He gave Kafka a chance because he reminded Hoshina of himself. For his troubles, Hoshina got a guy that would work hard to reach his expectations, that would rival him, that would call him first thing and spend all that time worried and would apologize before turning into a kaiju to save their lives. Kafka became a friend of sorts to Hoshina through hard work and respect.

Kikoru was used to all types of reactions from the people around her, but not to the level of worry and pride and trust Kafka gave her. It was not for show, he was completely open and sincere in his feelings. Kikoru you're an asshole, Kikoru you're amazing, Kikoru pleaseeee take care of yourself, Kikoru I won't disappoint you, Kikoru you have my permission and gratitude if you kill me if I ever lose control, Kikoru I trust you to finish this battle.

The first thing Kafka did during the second part of the recruitment was support Aoi and Haruichi during their subjugation of a kaiju.

He saved Minase's life by partially turning and risking his life for it. He saved Iharu and Reno that day against No. 9.

Narumi told Kafka that only they knew the weight of the burden they carried for being there the day Isao Shinomiya was killed. Freaking Narumi, who wouldn't share that burden with anyone else.

Like it was noted by his boss while he was still part of the Cleaning Corps, Kafka would do his job after complaining, but he'd do it perfectly and do it again if asked to.

He's reliable. I know I said it before, but he is.

In a world where anyone can die any minute, in the Kaiju Country, Kafka is a presence you don't want to vanish. It's what Mina says: everything is easier with him around, anything is possible.

When in the first chapters Kafka tells the little girl to not be afraid because he'll go and everything will be okay— the girl thanks him. In the anime, the little girl even asks Mina to please not hurt the good kaiju. Once people have met him, they don't want him to go. They'd do anything for him not to go, not to die. When Kikoru saw him losing control and remembered her promise, she decided that she'd rather believe in him 'til the end. When Isao was about to disappear, he thought about Kafka and said he'd leave things up to him too.

Isn't that what it means to be a hero? To be able to say "leave it up to me" but also trust others to help you when you need it? Inspire people to support you because you supported them first?

The only thing scarier than the kaijus is to be left alone in the world— and Kafka fights that.

[prettiestgrlinthemorguexo]

fic where baker reader and lucifer both really like each other but are too scared to admit their feelings so reader makes him a cupcake with a frosting duck on top as a surprise

Sweet duckcakes ( Lucifer Morningstar x Baker! Reader)

Thank you for the request anonymous! This is such a cute idea myself!!! Feel free to leave more request

Idk why but I feel like Lucifer would love the duck cake from Bluey.

I legit accidentally deleted this half way through writing it, I could cry

NOT PROOF READ!!

Warnings: stealing my baker reader stuff on how they started working in the hotel from my last fic, season 2 headcanon

⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧

No ones POV:

Y/N has been working in the Hazbin hotel since day one, only then it was called ‘Happy Hotel’ Charlie employed them to be the head chef, prepare meals of staff and residents. It also meant Y/N could stay rent free so they accepted. Only then, back when it was only them, Charlie, Vaggie and the only resident, Angel dust. But as time has past, the Hotel has become more lively. Alastor, Husk and Nifty join the staff and another resident named Sir Pentious.

Even though Y/N was happy to see Charlie’s dreamed come true, but with each new person in the hotel mean more and more food to make, they were almost nearly in the kitchen all the time but they didn’t mind.

With the extermination looming closer, Charlie had no choice but to call her dad for help. Y/N was happy to know he accepted to come, To prepare for his visit Charlie asked Y/N to bake for his visit, which they happily did. They quickly run into the kitchen with Nifty following behind, she wanted to make cookies. Y/N and Nifty baked away, while nifty worked on cookies, Y/N chose cupcakes!

Nifty finshed first and ran into the main room while they stay behind so they could decorate the cupcakes. After 30 minutes they were done and they took them to the main room. As they turned the corner they see a rather weird sight…Alastor and Lucifer is a battle on who’s the better father. Y/N kinda stood there watching the two with everyone else till they were interrupted by someone named Mimsy, this finally allowed them to meet Lucifer.

“Dad, this Y/N, our head chef!” Charlie moves her dad over to them and they give a sweet smile to him. “It’s nice to finally meet you your majesty.”, as they said this they moved their tray to one hand and extended their now free hand, they took notice of Lucifer’s small blush. He took your hand, Y/N couldn’t help but notice his soft hands, “please call me Lucifer.” He said to you with a smile. “Why thank you..” they said to him as they remembered the treats. “Oh!” They said mainly to themself, they hold out the tray. “Please take one I made these for your visit.”

Lucifer took the treat in his hand looking over it, it had red frosting with a little apple slice in it. “Why thank you.” Lucifer said as he took one of the frosted treat and took a bite of it. He eyes life up as he tasted it. “This is amazing!” He said as he ate, Y/N couldn’t help but feel their heart race as this words. “They’re’s a reason they are the head chef! Now to the rest of the hotel,” Charlie continued to speak and show off the hotel. Y/N place the tray down on the nearby table and as they turn they couldn’t help but notice his eyes on them, they blushed and felt their own heart race.

Little did they know that was only the beginning. After his eventful visit, where him and Charlie both agreed to make an effort, he was in the hotel more. While he spent time with his daughter he always saw Y/N, he was great company to have, always so sweet. It was hard to admit they had growing feeling for him, how could they? He was her bosses father and the king of hell.

It only became worst after the hotel was destroyed and was rebuilt, during the process of rebuilding it, Lucifer moved in. Though Y/N believed it would be a blessing in disguise. You guys were frequently hanging out together, he was always so sweet, he loved to help cook and back with you. Y/N was very thankful for that considering how many more people were not in the hotel, but, this only has their feeling grow more…both their feelings. Lucifer would be lying if he said he didn’t like Y/N they were a dove…the light in the dark.

There were many nights they work yourself too hard and feel alseep in the kitchen only to wake up on one of the couches with a blanket they recognized…it belong to Lucifer. Each time they wanted to keep it, it smelled just like him, but, each time they returned it. They leave it folded with a nice little note. Lucifer loved the notes keeping them in a box, he also sleeps with each blanket, he smell of your are your perfume is intoxicating.

Though pretty much everyone was aware of both their feelings for each other neither would admit it, so in fashion of the residents of the hotel, they decided to help by dropping small (rather obvious) hints, though Charlie was the most discreet about her hints, mainly at hinting at things to you both like, similar interests you things both like. One thing Y/N took of something from Charlie’s and from Lucifer himself…he seem to really love ducks, from gifting them rubber ducks and leaving rubber ducks around the hotel.

One night after making up on the couch with a certain blanket on them, they had to thank him and a perfect idea came into their head. They Return the blanket back with another note, Y/N quickly made their way into the kitchen, ready to bake their morning away for Lucifer’s surprise.

TIME SKIP

Lucifer woke up to the sound of soft knocking, he recognized this knock, it was Y/N’s. He quickly shot up out of his bed running to the door. He nearly swung open the door to see your face, what a perfect thing to make up to, “good morning do-“ Lucifer stopped mid sentence noticing a gray with a cover in their hands, he looked back up at their E/C eyes. “What’s that?” He asked curiously. Y/N could help but smile he looked so handsome after waking up. (He wears duckie pajamas.) “may I come in?” Y/N asked happily, Lucifer blushed softly and nodded his head moving out of the way of the door “o-of course come in!”

Y/N walked in admiring his room, it was so elegant looking, they then turned to face him “I want to say thank you for always taking care of me, not leaving me to sleep in the kitchen floor means a lot to me, so, I want to say thank you.” They said as they placed the tray down on the dresser. “And I know you love ducks so..” Y/N them wiped off the cover revealing 6 cupcakes! Not just any cupcakes, they were Vanilla cupcakes with yellow frosting and on top were little ducks made of frosting. Lucifer looked wides eyed at them, before look at their smiling face. “You made these for me?” He asked softly.

“Of course!” They said happily, you’ve always helped me out and you mean a lot to me..” Lucifer stay quiet before quickly hugging them tight. “Thank you Y/N..” he said softly, the hug caught Y/N by surprise but they quickly hugged back a soft blush on their face. “Anything for you..”

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