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gh0stsp1d3r · 7 months ago

Note

would you write dark!rafe x kidnapped!maybank!reader who’s developing stockholm syndrome & when the pogues find her shes worried about him cause jj hit him & he’s bleeding & doesn’t want to leave with them. rafe is all cocky about it but they forcefully take her home

- DEBT

div below by @/miuji, div above by @/cafekitsune

WARNINGS: kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, dark!rafe, fighting, mentions of guns, blood, like one use of the word “good girl.” Reader is hinted at to be a little naive/dumb… Yeahh… this is fucked up I love it

AUTHORS NOTE: this is definitely not an accurate representation of Stockholm syndrome, but I tried my best ! Not proofread

Technically, this wasn’t even supposed to be the plan.

Him and Barry were meant to barge in, cover both ends of the house, and steal their money back. If JJ was there, one of them would keep him down. It was a solid plan, in their opinion.

Although, they had forgotten to take another factor into consideration. You.

JJ had mostly kept you shielded from the world, despite you being his older sister, he still cared about you and wanted to protect you. You’ve already been through so much with your dad, why add onto it? You took care of him before, now he’s taking care of you.

You were sitting on the bed, a book in front of your face with no care in the world. You had your headphones on full blast, mostly to block out the noise of the broken fridge and the noise of passing cars along the road near your house.

“Looks empty.” Barry spoke, Rafe nodding at him, pursing his lips.

“I’ll cover the rooms.” Rafe spoke, his heavy footsteps walking towards the narrow hallway. He paused for a moment when he heard the sound of faint music playing through one door, pushing his ear to the door.

He pulled his gun out, cocking it, fully preparing for JJ to be there.

When he opened the door, he wasn’t met with the sight of the blonde boy. Instead, he was met with the sight of pink walls and a white bed, with stuffed animals lined all on the back.

You looked up at him, letting out a scream and dropping your book. You raced to the drawer you knew had a gun hidden in it, but he was quicker, grabbing your wrist and holding it in a tight grip.

He pinned you down onto the bed, causing you let out a cry that was muffled when he put his hand over your mouth.

“Shut up, shut up!” He whisper yelled, you looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Yo, Rafe! What the fuck happened?” Barry asked as he barged into the room, looking between you and Rafe. You were sobbing at this point, confused and fearful.

“Shit…” he said with a rather amused chuckle, “Looks like we got ourselves somethin’ better than the money.”

Rafe ignored him, turning to look down at you now.

“If I take my hand off of your mouth, will you scream?”

You shook your head frantically, him letting go and holding his hands up, still pinning you to the bed. You looked between him and Barry, fear evident on your face. “What do you want?” You sobbed out, your voice broken.

God, you were pretty when you cried, Rafe thought to himself.

“We want to know where your brother put our damn money.” Barry spoke from behind Rafe.

“What- what money? I don’t know why you’re talking about.” You answered honestly.

Barry tsked, “It’s a nice lil room you got here, princess. Would hate for somethin’ to happen to it.” He spoke, picking a stuffed animal up off your bed.

“I’m being honest! I swear! He-he said something to his friend about him taking it somewhere, but I swear, I don’t know anything else!” You exclaimed, Rafe staring down at you, lightly shoving you further into the bed when you raised your voice.

“Don’t yell.”

“Oh, we believe you, sweetheart. But that’s the problem. See, your brother owes us a debt. A large one.” Barry murmured, “And if we don’t get our money… well… we need to take something, you know? Just to let him know we’re serious.”

Rafe looked to him with a furrowed eyebrow now.

“No, no, no, no-“ you began, “Please- I can-“

“Shh. Shh.” He told you, pressing a finger to his own lips. “I get it, you know, rough situation. But, until your brother gets us that money, I’m afraid we’re still owed somethin’. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Barry looked to Rafe, nodding. Rafe got off of you, pulling you off of the bed, and grabbed your hands, using a bandana, JJ’s bandana, off the floor, tying your arms and legs, and dragging you out of the house and throwing you into his truck.

You overheard a conversation up front with the two.

“Nah, man, I can’t keep her-“

“Bro, I live in a fucking trailer park. You live in a goddamned mansion.” Barry pointed to Rafe. “I ain’t got no room at my place. And if the cops come lookin’ for her, they more likely to trust you.”

Rafe sighed, nodding for a moment. “Shit, shit, alright.”

For weeks you fought against Rafe, screaming and yelling at him whenever you could.

You were tied up to the edge of his bed, so he could always keep an eye on you. Most of the time, he got annoyed, lashed out, and ended up putting tape over your mouth to shut you up.

You got tired, exhausted of fighting him. And you found yourself… simply letting go. It felt so much easier to do that, so much easier to listen, just so you wouldn’t have to hear his abuse.

There was ever so often he had a little compassion and sympathy for you. He would spoon feed you when you found yourself not eating or refusing to, and he would untie you when you complained about how your wrists hurt, letting you roam around the house, with him by your side, of course.

He even started to give you rewards for being a “good girl” as he said, dessert, time outside with him, little kisses on the forehead. It was his way of conditioning you.

You became dependent on him during your stay at Tannyhill, forcing you to become even closer with the boy.

And honestly, you learned to like it. Because that’s what you had to do in order to survive.

While Rafe was much more lenient now, even letting you sleep on his bed with him, though still tyed up, there was one thing he would not let you have.

Screen time.

Your face was plastered on the local news, a sweet little picture of you and your brother, your arms wrapped around each other, with a beaming smile on your face.

Shoupe even got on the news to talk about latest developments in the case- and there was only one that pointed to Rafe.

One of your neighbors squeaked and spoke about how they heard screaming coming from the house after they saw a black pick up truck drive past them. The sweet old neighbors went to check on you, but you weren’t home.

JJ spoke desperately, pointing to the picture as well, before the news switched to some other story.

Rafe clicked his teeth as he watched the news story, turning off the tv and making sure all his doors were locked. There’s no way someone would pick up on that. A black pick up truck could be anyone on the outer banks.

Sarah was the one to point out the fact that Rafe had a black pick up truck, and it was then that they realized that they had stolen from him and Barry.

JJ hopped on his bike, revving his engine and breaking a few speeding laws as he drove to figure eight.

You were sitting on the floor when Rafe walked back in, he grabbed your wrists, untying you, and making you stand up. He threw you over his shoulder, you letting out a surprised yelp at the action.

As soon as he went downstairs, he heard frantic knocking on the door, shouting and yelling of his name. Your head shot up, recognizing the voice.

“JJ?”

“Shit.” He mumbled, looking around for a moment, before looking to a closet. He shoved you in there, you looking around the large closet. He turned off the light, you looking at him now.

He put his finger to his mouth, telling you to be quiet. “Stay here, alright? You know what’s gonna happen if you don’t.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump that formed in your throat, his warning hanging in the air as he shut the door to the closet, leaving you in the dark.

He walked to the front door, looking through the peephole to find JJ, Pope, John B, Sarah and Kie all standing outside. He was outnumbered, whether he’d like to admit it or not.

“The fuck do you want?” Rafe shouted, the pausing stopping for a moment.

“We know you have my sister!” JJ shouted angrily, “Where the fuck is she?”

“What? What are you talking about?” Rafe feigned confusion. “Are you serious right now?! You- you come here, asking me for your sister, a-accusing me of kidnapping her?! With no proof!” He stammered, his back facing the door, biting his nails, a nervous habit he’d picked up.

“You’re lying! Someone saw a black pick up truck at the house. We know it was you, Rafe!” Sarah shouted now.

“Listen, if you guys don’t leave, I’m gonna call the cops.”

“Then open the door! Prove it.” John B spoke now. Rafe thought for a moment, glancing at the hallway the closet was in, and sighing. He turned around, knowing they would be relentless and wouldn’t leave unless he opened the door, and turned the door knob.

“Happy?” He retorted, opening the door wide to show the empty house, although, it was then that JJ saw a figure peeking behind the wall.

“Y/n!” He exclaimed, your eyes widening and you retreating back inside, away from the door. Rafe looked back, his jaw clenching.

JJ bit the inside of his cheek, before he balled his hands into a fist, and threw a punch at Rafe.

Rafe chuckled as he took a step back, his hands going to his face, wiping off blood from his nose.

“You wanna go, Maybank?” He sneered, towering over the boy. He stepped outside, and got punched in the face again, before the both of them tumbled to the ground, John B joining in as well.

You watched the scene, your heart pounding against your chest and your eyes locked in on Rafe, getting hit and trying to hit your brother and his friend back.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You ran outside, shouting JJ’s name. He paused, all movement stopping to look at you. JJ got off of Rafe, going to hug you before you avoided him, stepping away from him.

Rafe had a small smile on his face, standing up as well. He stood next to you, you looking up at him with a small frown on your face.

JJ watched with his jaw slack as he watched you fret over Rafe, standing on your tippy toes and using your sweater sleeve to wipe the blood off his face.

“What the fuck? Y/n! He kidnapped you!” JJ exclaimed.

“Sorry, man. Guess your sister just…” he clicked his teeth, “likes me more.” He looked down at you with a cocky smile on his face, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

You looked to JJ now, Rafe mumbling to you how he’s okay, and it’s nothing to worry about.

“Y/n… please- I know you want to go home.”

You glanced back up at Rafe, staring up at him for a moment, and turning back to JJ.

“He’s a good guy, Jay.” As soon as the words left your mouth, Rafe was grinning a like the chesire cat and the pogues looked even more confused.

“What the fuck?” John B mumbled under his breath, Sarah looking at Kiara with worry on both their faces.

In Popes mind, he was working out what this could be. That’s when it popped into his mind, the term. He’s learned it before through some book he read, his eyes drifting to Rafe.

“W-what? What are you talking about, y/n?” JJ asked, “Whatever- whatever mind control shit he did to you, it isn’t real, alright?”

“She has Stockholm syndrome.” Pope murmured, all eyes snapping to him now. Rafes eyes narrowed.

“Look, whatever bullshit you guys think I did to her, I didn’t, alright? So just..” he waved his hand, “go back to your side of the island, I don’t wanna see you here until I got my money, alright? Then we can talk ‘bout...” Rafe glanced at you. “But hey, that’s even if she wants to go back with you.”

JJ didn’t waste another moment, running towards Rafe and tumbling onto the ground with him, getting into the second fight of the day with him. You stepped back, shouting Rafe’s name, when you felt arms around your waist.

You screamed again, feeling someone pick you up off of the ground and throw you over their shoulder, you hitting your fists and kicking them.

“Let me go!”

John B threw you into the car, him shouting JJs name. They all got into the Twinkie, you being practically held down again, watching through the windows as Rafe stood up, his hand holding his jaw.

He panted, looking at the car, he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

He would get you and his money back, he’s sure of it.

Taglist:

@moonssyrup @koibleufish @anamiad00msday @wearemadeofstardust0

#𓈒♡͙ೃ࿔ asks #rafe cameron #rafe fic #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe fanfiction #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron imagine #rafe imagine #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe #dark rafe cameron #dark rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n

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sabxynsweet · 22 days ago

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sweetheart!reader giving mattheo a handmade gift (like one of those cute d.i.y. ones) and shes all nervous to give it to him but its like the nicest thing anyone has ever gotten him :3

sweetheart!reader gives mattheo a gift

you're all so super telepathic because i have "mattheo gives sweetheart!reader a gift" in my drafts, thank you for the request angel <3

You knock on his door, shifting your weight between both your feet as you hold your hands behind your back.

Mattheo opens the door, already expecting you.

“Sweetheart.” He smirks, like it's a greeting.

“Hi.” You smile, tilting your head up to look at his eyes.

He doesn’t say anything beyond that - he doesn’t have to. He simply opens the door wider to let you in.

“How was your day?" He mumbles, arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you in.

"That's what I usually ask." You laugh, feeling floaty already from his presence.

"Sue me for copying you." He says, "You are a very inspiring conversationalist."

"It is one of my many qualities." You play along before you squeal when you remember why your hands are still behind your back.

“I made you something.” You say with a smile, he looks at you with a tilt of his head.

“Yeah?” He grins.

You hum, rolling your sleeves up to reveal four bracelets - a pearl bracelet you always wore, a silver bangle, a pink beaded bracelet with red hearts and a black one, which you slip off your wrist.

You hold it out to him and he furrows his eyebrows in confusion, not moving to take it.

“I made this for you.” You say cheerfully, he slowly moves to take it from you, eyeing it suspiciously.

“Have you never received a gift before?” You joke before your smile falls when he simply looks down at you with eyes that say 'more or less.'

It wasn't that he had never received a gift before, Theo - who was the only one who knew his birthday - always gave him a little something, whether it was book or a vintage lighter or a cologne. Technically his wand was a gift from his parents.

But this is different, he examines the bracelet, there’s an array of beads - silver, green and black - his favourite colours (though you’ve argued with him that black is not a colour) and a few pearls mixed it that match your own pearl bracelet.

It’s very unlike you but it is so him.

He can't remember the last time he's truly cried but as he thinks about you threading the beads together - carefully curating them to match him - he applauds himself internally for being so brave holding it together.

He doesn’t say anything, he can’t say anything, you take his silence for distaste.

“You don’t have to wear it!” You rush to say, “I was just in Hogsmeade the other day and I saw these in the bead store and I thought they were perfect, I know it’s not really your thing-”

He cuts you off with a kiss, one that you melt into very quickly.

“I really like it.” He says earnestly when he pulls away, he thinks about how much he really likes you.

Mattheo slips on the bracelet without another word.

You smile, your cheeks hurting with how wide your smile was.

“I never thought I’d see the day Mattheo Riddle wears a friendship bracelet.” You tease.

“Friendship bracelet,” He raises his eyebrows, “Is that what we are?”

He pulls your body flush against his, gazing down at you with his full focus.

You look up at him with wide eyes, your head spinning a little, he smirks at your reaction.

"I'm messing with you," he murmurs, his mouth inches away from yours before he leans in to kiss you.

You never expected him to like your present enough to wear it and you can't help but feel proud of yourself.

"I'm happy you like it." You mumble along his lips.

"I really do." He promises when he pulls away fully.

There's a pause of silence.

"How was your day?" You murmur, he laughs before kissing you again.

He wore his bracelet for the rest of the night and the day after that, then the entire week and if he never took it off after that, well, everyone was too scared to comment on it, anyway.

taglist: @fallingwallsh @espressqe @theodoresvalentine @fanfictiononly4 @genuinelyfloatingsouls @fayezasstuff @glittervame @wxnterwidow333 @thalibaby @cminoko @blainea98 @randomfanpage

#mattheo riddle x sweetheart!reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle fanfiction #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle soft #mattheo riddle x fem!reader

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darlingdream1010 · 13 days ago

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A lot of people play with the idea of the Justice League summoning Danny as a ghost/ghost king/ghost prince, thinking he’s Pariah Dark. That’s all fun and good, and the guilty pleasure of reading their surprise is always fun, but surely they wouldn’t be so outdated about it?

Danny’s friend is Tucker—a tech geek—who’s to say he won’t hook his friend up with a phone line for Intergalactic Kingly (technically Princely, but King sounds better) Duties? In fact, why wait for the Justice League to call him? It’s not like they know the Realms have got a new system yet, and Danny ought to give them some free help the first few times, just to clear a bit of the old bad air between them.

Let’s say a few of the members have got them selves in a bind with a certain ancient artifact that’s cursed with ectoplasm. All it takes is one confused question—

“Wait, the things cursed with whatsit now?” Captain Marvel asked, leaning close to try and get a better look.

Zatanna held up a hand, warning him away. “Ectoplasm. Don’t get close, we’re certain it’s got similarities to Lazarus water, but we don’t fully understand it.”

He frowned, holding the artifact farther away from himself. “That doesn’t bode well for me.”

Zatanna sighed. “Let me call John over, I think we need to summon—“

And with that, the requirement of “Ectoplasm” and “Summon” being spoken was fulfilled, and the landline phone rang.

Naturally, they were a bit confused at first, as they distinctly remembered not having a landline phone on their station in the middle of space. However, never fear, because all it takes is a healthy bit of communication and customer service.

“Hi! You wanted to summon something to deal with ectoplasm?” A cheery voice said when Zatanna picked up the phone.

“Ye—“

“Fantastic! I’ll be there in a jiffy,” the voice said. They seemed almost at a desperate level of enthusiasm, as if they were relieved someone needed them.

Captain Marvel glanced between the ancient sword his hands were glued to and the phone. “Did they say they were coming here?”

“I did!” A voice announced, surprising both of them. They both immediately took defensive positions, fully launching attacks at Danny—

“And just like that, I was there to help! See?” Danny said jovially, swiping away a stray bit of blood from when the two had attacked him. “Easy and fast, without the hassle of a ritual!” Danny finished his pitch just in time for the sword to let out an ominous roar as it unstuck itself from Captain Marvel’s hands.

“You’ve made this worse!” Zatanna accused, lunging for the sword.

“Wait! I’m not done!” Danny cried, waving his hands for her to not approach.

The sword immediately locked onto her, glowing green and launching itself toward her. Danny just managed to grab onto it and turn them both intangible, passing right through the magician.

He glared at the sword. “You’re not making me look good right now,” he whispered. The sword shook in his hands agitatedly, swaying its point toward Zatanna. “No,” Danny scolded. “Bad dog. Go back to the Zone, now.”

The sassy sword whacked him in the forehead. Danny stuck his tongue out at it. The sword glowed a bright, iridescent green before disappearing completely.

He sagged. “Oh thank the Ancients.”

Dusting off his hands, he turned back to the other two and smiled. “So? Five stars? Four stars? I’ll take a three-point-five…”

With no response, Danny’s face drooped, black eyebrows furrowing. “Shit…that bad?”

Captain Marvel shared a glance with Zatanna and scratched his neck sheepishly. “We…probably won’t be needing your help again, dude. We’ll just get the Ghost King. Um, thanks though…”

The lady looked even less friendly. Her expression read: “we don’t know you, don’t show up uninvited.”

Danny sighed, opened a portal, and—after sparing them one final, sorrowful glance because he couldn’t help it—stepped back into the Ghost Zone.

The familiar sight of Long Now greeted him. Clockwork was there to meet him, offering him a cup of tea.

“While I am not experienced in such endeavors, I have heard many humans also experience a rough first day on the job,” he said.

Danny groaned, shedding his human form. “You know what? Screw this ‘revamp the summoning’ thing. Next time, I’ll just let them summon me, thinking they’ll get Pariah.”

Clockwork smiled, a mysterious knowing glint in his eyes. “Now wouldn’t that be a funny idea?”

#dp x dc #dpxdc #crossover #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton #zatanna zatara #billy batson #captain marvel dc #zatanna

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maskedbyghost · 3 months ago

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cw: angst, johnny's death is mentioned, enjoy crying...

You know how Soap finally got you and Simon together? By dying. Yeah, you read that right. The bastard was that extra.

You always knew he was dramatic, but this? This was a whole new level. He used to say you and Simon belonged together, and you used to tell him to shove it. Simon was insufferable, and you were pretty sure he thought the same about you. Every interaction you had was an argument waiting to happen. Soap, though? He saw something else. Maybe he saw more than what was there, or maybe he just wanted to be right. Either way, he was relentless.

“You two are gonna name your firstborn after me, just you wait,” he’d say, grinning ear to ear.

“I’m gonna name my dog after you,” you’d shoot back. “And it’s gonna be the ugliest, stinkiest mutt I can find.”

Soap loved that. He loved poking the bear—which, in this case, was both you and Simon. He was your best friend, but he was also Simon’s best friend. Somehow, he got away with it. No one else could push Simon’s buttons like he did, and no one else could push yours either.

Sometimes, he’d corner Simon too. You’d hear them talking, voices low, and you just knew he was doing the same thing to him.

“I see the way you look at her,” he’d tease.

Simon would scoff. “I look at 'er like she's a bloody headache.”

“Exactly,” Soap would say, like that proved his point. “That’s love, mate.”

Simon would grunt, annoyed, but never actually deny it.

The last thing he said to you before he left for that mission was, “When I get back, we’re going to that stupid fair you love so much. I’ll even let you drag Lt along.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling. “You? Let me? Johnny, you’d be the one dragging him.”

He winked. “Exactly.”

And then he left. And he never came back...

You were stuck on base, healing up from an injury, waiting for them to return. You were waiting for him, for all of them, technically, but mostly for him. You knew something was wrong when hours passed with no word. You told yourself they’d be fine. Soap had to be fine.

Then there was a knock on your door. You got up, already preparing to chew him out for being late, but when you opened it, it wasn’t Johnny standing there. It was Simon.

And he wasn’t wearing his mask.

That was the first thing you noticed. The second thing you noticed was his eyes. You had never seen them like that before.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, even though you already knew. You knew the second you saw him.

Simon swallowed. His voice was rough when he muttered, “I’m sorry... Johnny’s dead.”

You don’t really remember much after that. You remember your knees hitting the floor. You remember hands on your shoulders, keeping you from collapsing completely. You remember the sound that came out of you, something you had never heard before. It was raw, ugly. It didn’t even sound human.

You remember Simon staying. You don’t know how long. Hours, maybe. Days. He stayed while you cried, while you screamed, while you stared at the wall in silence. And when he finally did leave, he came back the next day. And the day after that. And the day after that.

At first, you hated him for it. Hated that he saw you like this, hated that he wouldn’t just leave you alone. But grief is a strange thing. One minute you want to be left alone, the next you don’t know how to be alone at all. And Simon? He understood that better than anyone. He let you rage, let you sob, let you sit in silence without ever demanding anything from you. It was the kindest thing he had ever done for you.

One night, you mentioned the fair.

“Johnny promised me we’d go,” you said. “It was stupid, but he promised.”

Simon was quiet for a long time before he finally said, “Then we’ll go.”

So you did. It was the worst fair you had ever been to. Everything reminded you of him. The stupid carnival games. The overpriced food. The Ferris wheel that he had sworn he’d make you ride. And Simon was there, standing beside you, just as lost as you were.

He even tried to win you something at one of those rigged booths, muttering curses under his breath when he kept missing. “Bloody scam,” he grumbled, handing you a consolation prize—a tiny stuffed dog.

“Soap would’ve made fun of you so much,” you said, holding the plushie close.

Simon huffed. “Yeah. Bastard.”

You didn’t talk much, but you didn’t need to. Somehow, that was the moment everything started to change between you.

And then you found Soap’s diary.

You don’t know why you hadn’t looked at it before. Maybe you had been too scared. Maybe you had just been avoiding it. But one day, you opened it, and there it was—a picture of the three of you. You, him, and Simon. And underneath it, in his stupid scrawled handwriting, he had written:

"My two best friends. I’ll love their kids so much."

You broke down all over again.

Simon found you like that, sitting on the floor, clutching the diary like it was the last piece of Johnny you had left. He didn’t say anything. He just pulled you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead, holding you together the only way he knew how.

Years later, you stood in the place where you let Johnny’s ashes go. You had a baby boy in your arms, and Simon stood beside you, looking out at the horizon.

“Hi, Johnny,” he said softly. “This is Johnny Junior.”

You laughed, even as tears ran down your face. “He would’ve hated that.”

“I know,” Simon said. “That’s why it’s perfect.”

And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself believe that maybe Johnny had been right all along.

“Miss you, mate,” Simon murmured.

You looked down at your son, his tiny fingers curled around yours. “We both do.”

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

hehehehehe

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x female oc #simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley #simon riley angst #ghost x reader

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lokidjarin-7567 · 11 months ago

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Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?

Erik Lehnsherr x Reader x Charles Xavier After joining the First Class of Professor X’s school with your brother Hank, you realised you have a connection with two of the mutants there, and that they might also have a connection to each other… fem!reader, M/F/M, 18+ MDNI 6.2k words EDIT: I'm super proud of this one, maybe my favourite thing I've written! Thanks for all the love on it so far <3 TTPD Contents | General Masterlist | AO3

“It’s not going to happen, Charles.” You muttered, frustrated, putting all of your energy into stopping him from walking towards you, but only managing to stop his hand.

“You need to go to that place between…” He started to explain.

“Anger and serenity, I know, I know. I’m not Erik, its not working.” He sighed, moving his hand to his forehead.

“May I?”

“Sure, go ahead.” There was nothing he would see in there that he hadn’t before.

You realised early in your friendship that there wasn’t a lot of point hiding anything from him. You were never sure when he was reading your thoughts, only when he spoke to you without moving his lips, or when he would find a memory like he was doing now. You saw a few flash through your mind, recent ones. The relief when Hank had told you that there were others like you and him. The anger when Shaw had killed Darwin in front of your eyes just a few days ago. The moment your mother found out there was something different about Hank, and kicked him out, so you followed him. Your brother’s mutation was significantly more obvious than your’s, but you left with him regardless. He had always been more than family; he was your best friend, your true and sole confidant, your lifeline. Following your train of thought, Charles managed to find a memory synonymous to that - the day you found out about his mutation. The way he cried and broke down, explained the science to you to try and ensure you understood it, but you didn’t need him to. You whispered his name softly, and told him to wave at you. The perplexed look on his face, but you insisted so he did. Then you stopped his hand dead in its tracks. The shock and relief on his face, the hug you shared, the tears you both shed. It was a joyous memory, peaceful.

You wiped a tear from the corner of your eye and Charles did the same, releasing you from the memory and now you were back in the bunker underneath his family’s house, watching as he nodded to you.

“Now try again.” He moved to the other side of the bunker again, and you concentrated hard, reaching your hand out towards him and trying to stop his slow walk towards you. You were technically telekinetic, but only when the other object was moving. The lighter the object, and the faster it was moving, the easier it was to control. And generally, you would just have been able to stop it. You knew that you could move things as well once you had control over them - you had done it once, the day you had gotten your powers, but never since. And if it took that level of trauma to do it again, you hoped you never would.

“You’re moving too slowly!” You exclaimed, huffing in frustration.

“Ok, ok fine. Maybe we need to stop thinking of your powers as telekinesis.” You frowned, confused. Controlling objects was telekinesis. “Just trust me here for a moment…” Of course I trust you, you saved my life and continue to daily. “Close your eyes.” You took a deep breath, closing your eyes tightly. His voice appeared in your head, a soft whisper that immediately put you at ease.

Telekinesis is about creating movement, but you can manipulate movement. And do that, you need to be able to sense the movement around you. I can’t manipulate or read someones mind without being able to sense it, even if I can see the person. It might be the same with you. I’m standing still but I’m going to move soon - keep your eyes closed and see if you can sense me.

You focussed, reaching out into the black space and it took a few seconds, but you could feel him moving. Slowly, his image formed in your mind. You could see the way he was moving: the large, over dramatic steps he was taking, the emphatic hand wave, and you smiled. You reached out to him with even more concentration, but you surprised yourself with how easy it was to stop him in his tracks, cementing his feet to the floor so he almost fell over.

“Holy shit, Charles, you’re a genius.” You opened your eyes, releasing him and seeing the grin that had spread across his face. It was contagious, your own smile growing.

“I know I know, but we’re not done yet, you have a lot more in you…” He was pacing, thinking, and high on the adrenaline, you reached out to stop him, to play with your powers, only to find… you couldn’t. You couldn’t sense his movement. You could see him, but there was nothing else.

“I can’t…” you muttered, continuing to try as hard as you could, but nothing. He frowned, and you heard his voice softly inside your head.

Close your eyes again.

You did, and sure enough, there he was, his movement growing clearer in your mind by the second. You opened your eyes, and it was gone, the tangibility somehow lost when you could actually see him.

“Ok, ok, let’s try this…” He looked around for something, then settled on his tie, pulling it from his collar in a swift motion and striding over to you, making you blush. “We can use this as a blindfold?” He asked, and you nodded, allowing him to press the soft fabric across your closed eyes, the world going black as he tied it in a gentle knot. The difference was instant. It was as though you could physically see him still, a soft, golden glow outlining his body and his movements. Every single detail was highlighted to you.

“Try standing still?” He did, stopping dead in his tracks, but you could still see him - every miniscule shiver across his skin, the rising and falling of his chest with his breaths, the slight tremble in his fingers. “Charles…” you muttered, “I can see everything.”

“What do you mean everything?”

“Look for yourself.” You watched as he raised his hand to his temple, and you saw the subtle changes in his face as it shifted from confused to shocked, a grin spreading.

“That’s incredible. Is it easier to stop movement now as well?” You smiled, instantly halting his arm in the air as he tried to return it to his side. He laughed aloud. “You’re amazing.”

“I know.” You shrugged, letting him go, hands reaching up to remove your makeshift blindfold when you felt something move across the room. Without thinking, you reached back towards it, spinning around just in time to see the door you just felt opening slam shut.

“What the fuck?” You heard an annoyed voice from the other side of the closed door, and you laughed in disbelief. You’d done it.

“Oh my God, did you see that?” You span back to Charles, smiling uncontrollably.

“Yes I did, my dear. Yes I did.” You squealed with joy, running over to give him a hug, which he readily returned. You still had your blindfold on, and you could feel his heart beating when you were this close, even the blood rushing through his veins.

“Thank you.” You whispered in his ear, and he moved back, holding your head in his hands.

“This was all you.” The moment was broken, though, by the door opening again, although slightly cautiously this time. It was Erik - you could see it was him by his movements, and the shape of his body.

“Did you just close the door on me? And why are you blindfolded?” He paused, confusion etched across his face, followed by an almost knowing smirk. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Jesus, no…” Charles piped up quickly, heart rate skyrocketing as he moved across the room to Erik, putting distance between you and him. “We’ve found a way to…”

“I closed the door with my power!” You interrupted, excited, but he did not have the same reaction as Charles did. He actually had no reaction at all.

“So… you can, what, control your power better when you’re blindfolded?” You nodded.

He cocked his head, then he stretched out his arm, and you presumed it was to see if you were telling the truth, but before you could open your mouth to tell him he’d moved, you felt something moving quickly towards you. It was your keys, and you stopped them in midair, before pulling them safely into your hand.

“Hey, that could’ve taken my eye out!” He just laughed.

“There’s a lot more where that came from.”

You often wondered about how your life would have turned out without this place. You hadn’t exactly been here long, but it had already transformed you into someone better, more powerful, more in control. You spent the day with Charles and Erik, getting to grips with your newfound power, figuring out how to use it fully, and that you should keep things on you that you could throw and move to your advantage in the field like Erik did. You felt like you could actually be helpful to them now. And only just in time. Tomorrow was going to be a big day.

You finally got back to your room, laying down almost straight away, your feet aching from the long day. It was a beautiful house, and you would always be grateful to Charles for allowing you to stay, even if it only ended up being for a short while. You didn’t have anywhere else to go, after all.

You closed your eyes, grabbing the small, metal orbs Erik had given you from your pocket, and throwing them in the air, grabbing them with your power as they visualised. You smiled, remembering just a few hours ago when he gave them to you. The way your hands had grazed, his gaze as intense as it always was. The way he had encouraged you as you practiced, and been harsh when you made a mistake.

You had to be careful with your thoughts when you were around Charles. Guarded. There were a lot of things you thought about that you never wanted him to know.

He was one of those things. Erik was the other.

You couldn’t help it; they were both so attractive in different ways. Charles was soft and kind, a smile that could warm you from the inside out and a charm that could make you do anything he asked, no mutation needed. Erik was the opposite, harsh and damaged, cold in his mannerisms, but there was a concern to him that he tried to hide. He always failed, doing everything and more to protect the mutants around him. To fight for them. And to make sure you fought for them too.

“That wasn’t good enough.” You remember a moment from your day when he nearly shouted, frustrated that you had only stopped a flying chunk of metal he had flung at you rather than moving it as well.

“I’m not used to this, Erik.”

“So? We all had to learn to control our powers quick, you aren’t special.” You huffed, clenching your fists as Charles let out a soft, warning whisper of his name, but he carried on. “You can do more than that. I don’t care when or how you got your powers, but even if you got them yesterday, you would be doing a hell of a lot better than you are right now.” While he was talking, you were steadily getting angrier, and halfway through a sentence you noticed a new piece of metal hurtling towards you. You flicked it away without any effort, hearing it smash against the wall and falling to the ground, noticing that the white hot rage had sharpened your vision. He continued to throw more and more object at you, and you continued to retaliate, not realising you were moving towards him until he started to move backwards. He reached the wall, and threw a knife in a last ditch effort. Charles cried out in warning, but you didn’t need it, pulling the knife straight into your hand and holding it to Erik’s neck.

“You have no fucking clue what I’ve gone through to get this power.” You were close enough to feel the shuddering breath he let out, and you could see the way he clenched his jaw, his eyes scanning your face meticulously, as though you couldn’t see every minuscule movement he made through your blindfold.

“I know it was bad enough that you didn’t want to use your gifts for a long time.” You felt as though the wind had been knocked from your lungs, and you stepped back, dropping the knife to the floor with a clatter, making your way back across the room.

“Again.”

How you got your powers was a memory even Charles hadn’t seen. You had never let him. Some subconscious part of you protected it viciously; the first time he had even tried, your mutation had taken over, gripping the only thing you could sense moving and stopping it. That thing just so happened to be his heart.

He hadn’t gone near that memory since.

And neither had you.

You should be trying to get some rest. You had a big day tomorrow. You were going after Shaw. Saving the world. Letting Erik get his revenge on that bastard. It was going to be difficult. You just hoped you could be helpful in spite of everything.

It was no use though. You were unable to think about anything else, so you got up and ventured out to find Hank. You just wanted to check if he'd incorporated the blindfold into your suit, and maybe to get some reassurance from your big brother, but as you wandered through the expansive house, you noticed an unusual quietness. Glancing at a clock, you realised it was later than you'd thought—you should definitely be resting too. But as you were passing the main study, you heard voices and paused, listening for Hank.

Hank isn’t here, but you can come in.

Your heart lurched, although you couldn’t tell if it was from surprise, or an involuntary reaction to his smooth voice. Concentrate, you scolded yourself, opening the door. Both Charles and Erik were sitting in the study in big, leather arm chairs, chess board in front of them and glasses of whiskey nestled in their hands. God, you needed one right now.

“Help yourself.” He said aloud, and you laughed to yourself quietly.

“It still takes me by surprise when you do that.” You moved over to the cabinet, pouring yourself a generous amount, before turning around to see another chair being moved to where they were sitting, Erik’s hand outstretched towards its metal feet. He set it down opposite their’s, and you sat gratefully, tucking your legs up and taking a sip.

“How are you feeling about tomorrow?” Charles asked, his voice strong and earnest. You frowned.

“Why do you ever ask questions when you could just see it?”

Would you really rather I was in here all the time?

“No of course not.” He already was. You took another sip. “And I’m terrified.”

“You don’t have to come, you know.” It was Erik this time. He spoke quietly, eyes never leaving the chess board.

“I want to.” You said it with finality, hoping to convey a confidence you certainly didn’t feel, but they both seemed to accept it.

“Your progress has been incredible today; you’re going to be a big help out there.” You smiled at the words but still not fully believing them, having another drink and averting your eyes to the chessboard.

“Do you want to play?” Erik asked, and you shook your head.

“No, thank you, I think I’ll watch if that’s ok.” Maybe they didn’t want you here. “Unless that would be crashing your evening, I don’t want to be a nuisance…”

“Never.” He muttered, moving one of his pawns. You smiled, settling further into the chair.

It was at times like this that you wished you had Charles’ power. They had been playing for a while now, and you wanted to know what they were thinking, their plans for the game. You tried to guess, but your chess knowledge was rusty at best, and you kept getting distracted. You hadn’t moved in the last 30 minutes - only once before that to get another drink - and they didn’t speak much when they played, so your mind wandered. Naturally. And it didn’t help that the thing your mind had been wandering to this past week was sat in front of you.

You watched as Erik’s hand gracefully moved a piece across the board from afar, the steel-tipped bishop gliding with ease, then returning to his thigh. His legs were spread slightly, hand resting on each while he continued to look at the board, shuffling slightly in his seat, his hips moving up and forwards and hands sliding further down them and you couldn’t help but think about…

Charles said your name, and you cleared your throat.

“Hmm?” You really hoped he hadn’t been in your head then.

“Weren’t you looking for Hank earlier?”

“Oh… yes I was but it can wait until tomorrow, it wasn’t important.” He’s telling you to leave. “Unless you wanted some space, sorry I totally crashed your night…”

“I promise you aren’t, darling, I just wanted to check you hadn’t forgotten something important.” Darling. He used nicknames a lot, maybe it was a British thing, but it still made your heart flutter every time.

“Thank you.” You smiled quietly as Erik stood up, offering another drink. You accepted, his hand grazing yours as he took the glass from it, fireworks dancing across your skin.

What should I do next?

His voice called out in your head, and you smiled lightly, knowing he didn’t need your help but wanting to include you nonetheless, probably after hearing you mind racing with thoughts of being an annoyance.

Bishop to F6.

I was thinking the same thing.

Erik returned, almost making you jump as the glass was placed back in your hand. Charles moved exactly as you had said as soon as Erik had sat down, and he paused, looking at the board intently, fingers running around the rim of his glass. Jesus, was he doing this on purpose? You twisted in your chair under the guise of getting comfortable to face towards Charles, but he was no better. He was stretched out, his legs wide, hand resting on his chin, shirt sleeves pushed up to the elbows. Fucking hell. It was barely anything, they were literally just sitting down, concentrating on their game, relaxing before what was bound to be a difficult day, but your mind couldn’t stop running away with itself. And to be fair to you, you were tipsy, stressed, and currently sitting in a room with two men who you happened to find insanely attractive. Of course you were going to have some thoughts. You couldn’t help it. About what they might be like. You figure Erik would be a little rougher, domineering, but Charles would talk to you, praise you. Use his powers to know exactly what you needed, to make you feel good…

His power.

Fuck.

You needed to get out of here before you just about died of embarrassment, and you could feel yourself blushing even though he showed no sign of knowing. If there was even a chance he knew, you needed to run, to leave, to literally never show your face here again. You downed your drink, a slight sting settling in the back of your throat.

“I should probably get going,” you croaked, barely managing to talk through sheer shame, “try and get some sleep before tomorrow. Thank you for the drink.” You had moved to stand, feet hitting the floor, but Charles held out a hand to you in a gesture to stop.

“Just one second…” He muttered, looking at Erik intensely. He wasn’t saying anything, but they held eye contact and you realised that he must be talking to him. Oh dear God. There was no expression on either of their faces, so unreadable it made you feel slightly insane. Oh God he saw it. What would he even think of you? Then, without warning, Charles stood up. You thought he might be going to get a drink, but he stopped behind you, and after an excruciating moment, his hands fell to your shoulders. You sighed and fell into them as he started to squeeze lightly, working the muscles that were there in a way that felt so good it was hard not to moan, so you hummed in contentment instead.

“I know it’s been a long day… maybe we can help you relax a little.” We? At that point, Erik stood up, expression still completely unreadable, and placed his fingers gently under your chin, lifting it to meet his eyes. His beautiful fucking eyes.

“Does that sound ok?” He whispered, and you practically melted.

"Yes, God, yes," you breathed. Erik closed the gap before you could finish, his lips capturing yours hungrily as his hand found your thigh. He pulled away, leaving you breathless, but before you could recover, he tilted your head back with a gentle grip on your chin. Charles' lips met yours, tender and exploratory. As he kissed you, his fingers traced soft circles on your collarbone. You sensed Erik's intense gaze, then felt his lips brush your neck—a fleeting touch, gentle yet promising more. You gasped into Charles' mouth, overwhelmed by their dual attention.

“My room’s closest.”

You made it there without bumping into anyone, a true blessing considering your hand in Charles’ and the strong grip Erik had on your hips the whole way. You had barely closed the door before he was on you again, lips on your neck and shoulder, hips grinding up against your ass, and something else too. You noticed Charles was standing just away from the two of you, watching intently with an expression close to disbelief. You smiled at him warmly, pulling him closer just as Erik lightly nipped your shoulder in a way that made you whimper. You reached back, running your nails in his hair, before pulling him towards Charles. They both smiled softly, lips meeting as you stayed in between them, both of their bodies pressed up against you. You took the opportunity to undo a few of Charles’ shirt buttons, and planting a couple of delicate kisses to the top of his chest. You felt giddy with arousal, mind completely taken away from the stress of the whatever was to come the following day, hands taking their time to explore his chest and further down as you continued to undo his buttons, his shirt falling open as you pulled him closer still, pressing his skin to yours.

Let me know if you want us to stop. There is no pressure here, sweetheart, just whatever you want.

You nodded, watching as Charles pulled back from Erik. His eyes scanned your face for any sign of discomfort, though he could surely sense the pleasure coursing through your mind — and they'd barely touched you yet. You hummed contentedly as Erik's hands found the hem of your tank top, pulling it off while Charles' fingers trailed down your arms, grasping your hands and guiding you towards the bed. Shimmying out of your sweatpants, you sat down and kicked them off, then shuffled further up the bed. You leaned back on your elbows, hoping to entice them to join you, but they remained standing, their eyes raking over every inch of you. Suddenly self-conscious, you realised that, apart from Charles' open shirt, they were both still fully clothed, while you lay before them in just your underwear. You would have to change that..

You closed your eyes tight, focusing on them. Charles must’ve heard your thoughts, and he was removing his shirt now, moving to his belt, but Erik just stood, watching you both. He looked so calm, but you could see his rapid, heaving breaths, and the desperation that was growing in his trousers. His breathing was just enough movement for you to latch on to, reaching out and starting to pull up the hem of his top, and he smirked, a grin spreading as he lifted his arms to help you, and you discarded the black material across the room. You blinked your eyes open slowly, and after a small pause where Charles glanced at him, presumably communicating where they were going to be, and finally got a good look at him before he knelt down before the bed, grabbing your hips and pulling you towards him, making you squeal.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmured, planting kisses up your thighs as his fingertips hooked under your pants, pulling them off. You sat up slightly as Charles moved behind you, resting your back against his chest. He grasped your jaw, turning your head to kiss him. "And this is quite a view…" You blushed, giggling, as Erik settled between your legs, his hands gripping your ass and angling you for access.

"So is this," Charles whispered, his hands finding your bra clasp as Erik's kisses inched closer to your aching core.

"Fuck, Erik…" you whimpered, your hand darting to his hair as his tongue delved into your folds, his hot mouth enveloping you with a groan. Your bra discarded, hands immediately cupped and kneaded your chest, making your head roll back, eyes fluttering closed with sheer bliss. Charles's lips found your neck, nipping the sensitive skin behind your ear and eliciting a soft moan.

"He thinks you taste divine, darling," Charles whispered, and you smiled, already panting as the pressure in your core built. "He does think you could be a little louder, though…" As if on cue, Erik's hands left your ass—one arm pinning you to the bed by your hips, the other at your entrance. Before you knew it, he was pushing two fingers inside you. You groaned, still holding back slightly, acutely aware of the house full of people.

Don’t be shy, I can make sure no one can hear you.

As his voice echoed in your mind, Erik's fingers inside you curled upward, hitting that sweet spot that made you melt. Simultaneously, Charles' fingers found your nipples, pinching and rolling them in a deliciously painful way that drew a guttural noise from your throat. The sound was loud and raw, tearing through your body just like the building pleasure was. Erik's tongue continued its relentless assault on your clit, never pausing. You writhed on the bed, so close to the edge it almost hurt, your moans and whines filling the room.

“Oh God… fuck I think I’m going to…” You felt Erik groan against you, and you looked down at him, seeing him peering up at you through half lidded eyes, lust on his face evident and a realisation hit you then. One of the most powerful men in the world was on his knees in front of you, and behind you was the other, lips planted on your neck, their sole purpose being to give you pleasure. It was enough to send you over the edge.

Your back arched, pressing further into Charles as a low, reverberating groan was pulled from your throat, riding out the waves with his mouth still between your thighs, and you couldn’t stop your hips from grinding into him. He finally realised you when you were done, shaking and quivering on the bed, slowly removing his fingers from you.

“You should really have a taste, Charles.” He muttered, moving up onto the bed and crawling over you to reach him, presenting his fingers to his mouth. You watch in awe as Charles took them into his mouth gratefully, sucking them clean as Erik watched, a dark look entering his eyes.

“You were right…” he muttered, hands moving to your hair and pushing it from your face as he kissed you gently. “Divine.” You hummed into his mouth and kissed him harder, tasting yourself on his tongue, which made that all too familiar ache build up in your core once again.

“Look at that…” you heard Erik start talking, alongside the sound of his belt buckle undoing, “she’s needy already.” You released Charles lips, sitting up slightly to grab a hold of Erik’s waistband, undoing the button and fly quickly and frantically, revealing the huge tent in his boxers.

“Looks like I’m not the only one…” you whispered, moving into a seated position on your knees as your hands ran gently across his bulge, seeing his hips move towards you instinctively, begging for more even though the rest of his body language said otherwise. “I can help with that.” His eyes darkened, and you wondered where he would want to be, but Charles was one step ahead of you.

He wants your mouth, darling. You smiled, guiding him back to the headboard with a gentle push on his chest, your fingers tracing the contours of his muscles before letting him get comfortable. Meanwhile, you turned your attention to Charles, putting on a show as you kissed him again, but deeper this time, your tongue taking its time to explore his mouth. Your hands deftly worked at his trousers while his roamed the lower half of your body, all eager grasps and breathless pants against your lips. You loved seeing him come undone beneath your touch, his raw desire palpable, and yours was evident by the slick forming between your thighs.

"Turn around for me, sweetheart." Erik's gruff voice rang out behind you. You obliged, settling on your knees to see a beautiful sight. He had finally taken off his trousers and boxers, and you paused to drink him in. Relaxed against the headboard, legs spread wide, his posture screamed dominance, accentuated by the small smirk playing on his lips as he watched you. Your gaze wandered down, taking in his toned body, strong arms, and down to the happy trail leading to the thing you wanted most. He was hard—painfully so, it seemed—and he stroked himself languidly while waiting for you. And he was big, bigger than you expected, and you swallowed hard at the thought of him, of how he would feel….

Charles had also stripped down completely, and he moved right behind you on the bed, hips pressed to your ass, and his erection pressed against your back.

“Come here…” Erik said, leaning forward and pulling you close by the back of your neck and smashing his lips into yours. You could feel Charles behind you, pulling your hips back and setting you up for him, his hands kneading your ass in a way that made you moan into Erik’s mouth.

Are you safe?

On the pill, I’m all yours. Erik released you from his lips and sat back, giving Charles a small nod and using the hand on your neck to keep your head up and facing him.

“Eyes on me, babygirl.” You nodded, eyes widening and a moan escaping your lips as you felt Charles press up against your entrance, fully sheathing himself in one swift motion.

“Fuck, darling, you feel so good.” He groaned, breathing ragged.

"God, so do you," you whispered, breathless as you adjusted to his size. Your eyes remained locked on Erik's, whose expression darkened as he stroked himself faster. Charles pulled out slowly, taking his time, before thrusting back into you forcefully, his hips colliding with yours. You moaned and whimpered as he set a rhythm, his hands roaming through your hair and up and down your back, murmuring praises and curses. You had finally caught your breath, and you knew it was time someone else got a little attention, so you lowered your head. Your tongue swirled around Erik's cock as his hand gripped your hair tightly. You took him into your mouth, managing just over half before pulling back, one hand moving to his base, the other steadying you on the bed. Matching Charles' pace, you bobbed up and down, drawing a growl of satisfaction from Erik that made your cunt clench, eliciting similar sounds from the man behind you. He pulled you into him by your hips, each thrust pure bliss, and you knew another climax was imminent if he just...

The telepath clearly sensed your thoughts, his hand reaching around to find your clit with precision. He rubbed tight circles in perfect rhythm, building the pressure once more. You could only moan weakly around the cock deep in your throat.

"She's close, Erik. I want to hear her," Charles said breathlessly. You could tell he was nearing his peak too as Erik lifted you off him by your hair, gripping tightly.

"Are you going to come for him, sweetheart?" Erik asked, his low tone making you whimper.

"Fuck... so close... I—" Your words dissolved into a moan as your orgasm overwhelmed you. Your eyes fluttered closed, and your head rolled into Erik's hands. Your body melted into blissful jelly, your core pulsing around Charles, and he followed shortly after, his hips faltering as he pressed deep into you. With a groan in your ear, he filled you, then bit your shoulder as you both rode out the waves of pleasure together.

You were a shuddering mess by the time he was done, barely holding yourself up as he pulled out of you with a deep sigh. He pressed soft kisses down your spine as Erik lifted your head up, lust etched on his face.

“You still up for me, sweetheart?” His fingers ran across your lips and cheek, and you nodded, still breathless.

I’m going to clean up, can I leave you two to it?You heard Charles in your head, and you sent over a yes, turning your head to kiss him goodbye.

“Shall I clean you up before I go, darling?” He asked, clearly having asked Erik the same thing, before standing and moving over to him, kissing him deeply.

“I think we’ll be ok.” Erik muttered, a mischievous look on his face. You smiled, forcing your weary legs to move towards him. He held you up by your hips as you heard the bathroom door close, a quick have fun thrown into your head. You kissed him softly, tenderly as you sank onto him, a sweet, low growl filling your mouth as your hips met his—a surprisingly easy feat despite his size thanks to what had been left behind by Charles. Your legs trembled, worn out, but you pressed your body close to Erik's, draping your head over his shoulder as he guided your movements with his hands. It was intimate - hands tangled in hair, soft, short breaths mingling with deep, grinding strokes that quickly brought you to the edge yet again. Panting and whining in his ear, you tried to tell him how close you were, but the sensation overtook you before you could form the words. Your nails dug into his back as pleasure washed over you. He whispered your name in a dark, husky tone, and then he was coming too, deep inside you. Somehow, he ground even deeper as you managed to lift your head just enough to kiss him.

You both stayed like that for a moment, catching your breath, bodies intertwined. Erik's hands traced lazy patterns on your back, sending shivers down your spine. As your heartbeat slowly returned to normal, you lifted your head to meet his gaze, finding a mix of satisfaction and tenderness in his eyes. With a soft smile, he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering on your cheek. You wanted to stay like this forever, feeling his heartbeat against your chest, but the moment was broken by the shower turning off. You blushed, climbing off him slowly, slumping next to him on the bed, feeling empty without him inside of you. You knew you would have to go and clean up soon, but you felt so comfortable with his arm draped around you, you didn’t want to move. He pulled the blanket from the bottom of the bed up, draping it over you as you waited for Charles, your eyes fluttering closed peacefully.

“Well, this is nice sight.” You smiled, opening your eyes to see him in the doorway to the bathroom, wet hair hanging over his face and towel wrapped around his waist.

“This is a pretty nice view from here too.” You replied. “Can I…?”

“Go ahead.” Erik muttered, planting one last kiss on your lips as you headed to the bathroom. You had just closed the door when you heard the bed creak, and they started talking.

“We got lucky with her, didn’t we?” Charles muttered, and you heard Erik sigh.

“Yes, I think we did.”

#x men #erik lensherr x reader #charles xavier x reader #erik lehnsherr #charles xavier #cherik #reader insert

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lavenderprose · 3 days ago

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It's really too bad that Veilguard is too niche of a fandom for Emmrichmancers to make a lasting impact on the fandom ecosystem. I think the entire world should be exposed to the knowledge that Our Character, our Special Old Man, has broken the mold of Internet Sexymen. Perhaps he doesn't technically count as one at this point, but alas. He's our beautiful boy and we've created him in our own beautiful horny image. The lines are so blurred that I don't think any of us know where canon ends and fanon begins. Did Sylvia Feketekuty set out to create a character that both cries into his lover's lap AND puts people on their knees? Was it the DA Devs' vision to make this man the kind of character that I imagine could put a whole cherry in his mouth, bend down, dole out the most R-rated cherry flavored kiss in the history of the solar system, and then walk away only for you to realize FULL MINUTES later that he's snuck the stem, tied into a perfect bow, under your tongue? Did they intend for this same man to give me vivid visions of someone who repeatedly says, "I'm so sorry," during sex because he CANNOT figure out where his elbows go. Did Electronic Arts WANT me to give this man a poet's mind AND a chode? I don't care. We're doing what we WANT here in the Emmrook fandom. Nobody can stop us. Canon versus fanon who, we're playing jazz on this man's asscheeks.

#emmrich volkarin #emmrook #Dragon Age #DATV

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callikari · 2 months ago

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STAY A ⭑ LITTLE LONGER

PRECIS 。 "confess i loved you, just thinking of you.. i know i've loved you, from the start."

심재윤 x fem!reader 735 fluff roommates to lovers ─── skinship kissing mild language (teasing) not proof read !!

REBLOG FOR A KiSS

it starts with the toothbrush.

you’re brushing your teeth one morning, eyes still half-shut, and jake walks into the bathroom like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“good morning,” he says through a yawn, grabbing his toothbrush from the holder next to yours.

you blink at him in the mirror, foamy toothpaste in your mouth. “we’re brushing together now?”

he shrugs. “seemed efficient.”

and maybe it’s weird at first, but it becomes a thing. part of the rhythm you’ve built with him over the past few months.

living with jake is easy. surprisingly easy. he hums when he cooks, leaves the cabinet doors open, and always forgets where he left his socks. you roll your eyes a lot, but there’s a smile behind it now. because the place feels warmer with him in it.

you didn’t expect that when you signed the lease.

you thought he’d be just a roommate. someone to share chores and utilities with. someone whose name you’d put on the wifi bill and maybe text about groceries.

but now he’s someone who texts you pictures of the sky when he sees a nice one. someone who brings back your favorite drink without asking. someone who falls asleep on your side of the couch because it “smells like you, and that’s comforting.”

yeah. it’s a little past normal now.

it’s a sunday morning when you really notice it.

you walk into the kitchen still in your pajamas, hair a mess, and jake’s already there. he’s got a hoodie on (definitely yours), dancing around the stove to a song playing low from his phone.

“you’re up early,” you mumble, squinting at the clock.

he grins. “made pancakes. and by pancakes i mean i burnt the first batch and cried a little.”

you snort, dropping into a chair. “so dramatic.”

he slides a plate in front of you, this batch golden and perfect. “drama aside, they’re edible now.”

you take a bite and hum. “edible and actually good. color me shocked.”

he bumps your shoulder with his hip. “rude. i slaved over a hot stove for you.”

“i’m grateful,” you say between bites. “seriously. this is nice.”

he looks at you for a second longer than normal. “yeah. it is.”

it keeps building, in little ways.

he starts waiting for you to get home if you’re out late, always with a “you good?” and a glass of water ready.

you catch him watching your favorite show without you one night and pretend to be mad. he spends the next hour giving you a dramatic recap, acting out every character until you’re crying with laughter.

he starts wearing your socks. you start stealing his hoodies. neither of you says anything about it.

one night, you’re both on the couch, a blanket tossed across your legs, movie playing quietly. you’re half-asleep when you feel it—his pinky brushing yours. slow. testing.

you don’t pull away.

you just let your hand slip into his like it was always meant to be there.

“so,” jake says one night, leaning against your bedroom doorframe. he’s in sweatpants and a too-big t-shirt. his hair’s a little messy, eyes soft.

“so?” you echo, setting your book down.

he walks in, a little shy. sits on the edge of your bed. “i was thinking.”

“dangerous,” you tease.

he smiles. “maybe. or maybe genius.”

you wait, heart thumping.

“what if,” he starts, glancing at you, “we stopped pretending this isn’t what it is?”

you blink. “and what is it?”

“me liking you. you liking me. this… thing.” he gestures vaguely between you. “we’re basically already dating. minus the title. and maybe the kissing.”

you laugh, cheeks warm. “so that’s what we’re missing.”

“exactly,” he says, eyes bright. “it’s a technicality.”

you reach for his hand again. “i like technicalities.”

“i like you,” he says, quieter now.

and this time, when he leans in, you meet him halfway.

his kiss is sweet. soft. familiar, like the laughter you’ve shared and the pancakes he burned and the songs he hums when he thinks you’re not listening.

when he pulls back, he grins.

“so… boyfriend privileges?” he asks.

you roll your eyes, smiling. “we’ll start with hand-holding and see how you behave.”

he winks. “i’m an excellent boyfriend. just wait.”

and you do.

you wait, and you stay, and so does he.

longer and longer, until it stops being temporary and starts feeling like forever.

taglist is open

vi says :: here is your guys long awaited work TT i had no motivation last week ..

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orphicmusings · 2 years ago

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tasm who got sprayed with an aphrodisiac, so he goes to his roommate and fucks her well into the morning 🤭🤭🤭

A/N this deviated a bit but i needed to spread the munch agenda…hope you can forgive me friend…..

peter enters the apartment like a hurricane, his shaking body and heaving breaths impossible to ignore.

“peter?” you ask, eyes wide with concern. “what’s wrong?”

he doesn’t answer at first as he looks at you. of course you’d be wearing tiny pajama shorts right now, when he has no control of where his eyes land. he’s trying hard to catch his breath, his hands clenching into fists. he brushes the hair curled with sweat off his forehead and forces himself to look you in the eyes, raising his head higher. he anchors himself on your kitchen counter behind him. “aphrodisiac.” he breathed. “came home for my research.” he gulped, pushing himself to his bedroom, still evidently woozy. “gotta be an antidote.” he started to sway to the side, and you moved on instinct for him to fall in your arms.

“easy.” you drawled, arms shaking with his weight. you’ve never seen him in this state before. “where’s the antidote? do we have it?” you try to keep your voice level, but the urgency escapes your tongue in droves.

he shakes his head, looking up at you. his brown eyes have been blown even darker, the pupil completely swallowing his irises. “lab. somewhere. gotta go.” he pushes off of you, but you grab his shaking hand.

“there is no way in hell i’m letting you leave here like this.” you took a deep breath, knowing the ethics of this are dubious at best, since you’ve been attracted to him since the day he moved in and he is technically drugged. he’s obviously in pain, and you can’t let him go out alone all the way to the lab to get the antidote. you don’t even know if he’d survive. “look. it’s an aphrodisiac. i….” you closed your eyes before you continued. “if it will take the pain away, you could….take it out on me.” you swallowed, trying to put it gently.

peter looks at you in shock, managing to push himself off the ground all the way. “you mean it?” he asks, looking straight at your lips. “because it would…” his voice trails off, cracking.

“yes.” you grab his shoulders. “i mean it”

peter immediately grabs your face with his large hands and pulls you into him, his lips sliding against yours in an anxious release. you didn’t imagine your first kiss going like this, but it doesn’t count, right? as soon as he gets a bit of control of himself, though, he slows down a little, capturing you in a breath-sucking kiss, both of you breaking away for air twice. “are you sure?” he asks again, his voice a low rasp this time. you nod and he urges you to jump, carrying you with a kiss into his bedroom.

he lays you on the bed as gently as he can, and you immediately make work of sliding off your shorts and underwear. he’s so obvious with his staring, it’s adorable. “can i?” his eyes wander down and he asks again in that low rasp. “please?”

the way he said please sent a shiver down your spine. “yeah.” you answered breathlessly. “what do you want?”

“my face buried in your thighs.” he responds instantly, with the cadence of a casual conversation for something so brazen. you stifle a gasp and nod. he wastes no time gripping your thighs and hooking them on his shoulders. “you’re fucking dripping, baby.” he remarks as he starts to explore with his fingers. “this for me? you like seeing me worked up?” he almost whispers.

“i think so.” you manage to get out in between gasps from his fingers brushing against your clit. “do…do that more.”

“this?” he asks, rubbing his thumb in circles. “you like that, baby?” you squeeze your eyes shut and throw your head back with a stifled moan as your answer, and he grins. he takes this opportunity to start putting his mouth to work, his tongue lapping crudely as his thumb resumes pressing all of your nerves. the way he’s sucking and licking is filthy, the wet noises, his hums of delight and your cries of pleasure create a cacophony of pornography. you buck your hips against his face, pulling him closer lightly by his hair and when he groans you feel it inside of you. you whine, arching your back and he has to pin your hips down with a hand. he pulls his face away for a second, his mouth glistening with a smirk. “now who can’t control themselves?”

“shut up.” you whined in embarrassment, grabbing his hair and pulling him back down. he breathed a laugh against your clit, and you squirmed as much as you could in his hold. you’re not gonna last. he hummed and spoke into you, “yes ma’am.” and you knew you were done for.

“peter?” you whimper in between heavy breaths. “gonna cum.”

“yeah, baby?” he pulls his face away a bit, still keeping his thumb in position, only switching it to take your clit between his lips. “go on. cum for me.”

that’s all it took for you to release all over his chin with a weak little cry, your voice hoarse and breathless. you try to catch your breath, laying your head back on his pillow. “alright…” you breathed. “just give me a second…and you could…we could-“

“-about that.” he interrupted you. “i….i already did?” he says in a question, almost like he’s embarrassed, stark contrast to what his tone was minutes ago. “the effects wore off. let’s just leave it at that…” he trailed off, coughing. you prop yourself up on your elbows.

“did…did you…” you look down. “cum in your suit just from eating me out?”

he takes a deep breath, looking at you up and down. “maybe.”

you fall back with a giggle, and he immediately gets defensive. “what?”

“nothing.” you shake your head, the blood rushing to your face. “just so fucking hot.”

#PETER IS A MUNCH AND I WILL NOT BE CONVINCED OTHERWISE #tasm #tasm x reader #tasm peter parker smut #tasm peter smut #tasm smut #tasm peter x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #buggy bf #my writing #notsfw

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sukunacest · 1 month ago

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cw:: stepcest, cheating, age gap, breeding

i keep imagining

you finally get your first ever boyfriend and bring him over to a family cookout and stepdad!toji gets incredibly jealous

almost the whole afternoon you're talking & playing with your cousins while your boyfriend is at the grill, drinking beers, with stepdad!toji & stepbrother!megumi (who really just wants to be inside playing video games).

besides your boyfriend, everyone else attending was family of some sort, so he was clearly a type of "outsider".

that didn't bother you though, you still really liked this boy and would keep texting and wave at him from across the backyard while you played with your cousins.

this only made toji even more jealous.

he made it his goal to do everything he could to make this guy uncomfortable.

toji "accidentally" spilled his drink on him (then on himself somehow). and they both ended up taking their shirts off, and of course toji was happy about that, because he has a the body of greek gods.

at some point, toji called you over to bring some hamburger buns. he thanked you with a hug but let his hands tightly linger on your hips and then squeeze your ass right in your boyfriends face. he gave you a kiss — a kiss you thought would be a normal cute peck— but ended up being a mini-make out session because toji wouldnt let you go until you both were gasping for breath. but it's totally fine, he's just your stepdad, it's normal. at least that's what you told your boyfriend afterwards.

after the food was done, most of the guest wanted to play party games. toji was the first one to volunteer for arm wrestling and your boyfriend,— hoping to impress you and everyone else in the room— accepted the challenge. toji was an "old man" there was no way he was actually as strong as he looked...

your boyfriend couldn't have been more wrong. toji ended up "accidentally" injuring your boyfriends arm from gripping and slapping it down too hard >...<

as the evening came down winding to an end, most of your family went to their own homes. since your boyfriend had been drinking a lot, your parents offered him to spend the night, so he didn't recklessly drive home while intoxicated — but only if he slept on the couch and not in your room.

after a goodnight hug, you leave your boyfriend with some pillows and blankets and head up to your room. because you had a boy over (technically) your parents didn't allow you to close the door.

and that was toji's golden opportunity.

you tried to muffle your moans so you didn't wake anyone, but it was difficult when toji's full eight inch cock was filling up your cunt like there was no tomorrow.

"daad, daddy please" you were begging but not entirely sure for what. "i have a boyfriend now... we cant anymore"

your mouth said one thing but your body said another. you were absolutely dripping, your slick was covering toji's cock like his own personal lube. there was a white ring forming around his cock from the amount of times you've came and toji still wasn't done with you yet.

"yeah, yeah, yeah, doll." toji would breathe into your ear as he pounded into you from behind. "im just making sure you know who this pussy belongs to"

he pushed your head down, arching your back, so he could go even deeper :((

"i saw what you were doing today" he whispered, practically growling. "trying to make me jealous with your new boytoy."

the headboard was smack, smack, smacking against the wall, over and over, with how hard toji was fucking you. thankfully your mom was at work and megumi was a heavy sleeper.

"im- im s-sorry daddy!" you pleaded but your cries fell on deaf ears.

"im not stopping til you're overflowing with my seed" and with the way he's fucking you, your body is being flung forward, yet his large hands on your hips are pulling you back into him. "that's when ill send you back to your little boyfriend" toji was smirking, licking that devilish scar on his lips.

neither of you noticed your boyfriend standing in the doorway, eyes wide and horrified, as your stepdad filled your pussy with ropes and ropes of his hot cum. toji must've "accidentally" forgot to close the door.

#toji x reader #jjk #toji zenin #jjk smut #toji smut #tw stepcest

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beritybaker · 1 month ago

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On One Condition

This is a fluffy little ditty inspired by "We Danced" by Brad Paisley (because I'm a sucker for a good country love song). It is also technically a part of the Right-Side Up universe I've been writing for a while, but works as a standalone.

Rating: G | Tags: No Upside-Down AU, Meet-Cute, Bartender Eddie, Meddling Robin, Slow Dancing | ao3

When the door opened, Eddie was ducked behind the bar, staring into the mini fridge and trying to decide whether he should bother telling Hank they were out of maraschino cherries. He cursed under his breath, kicking himself for not locking up first. The last thing he wanted to deal with was whatever drunk idiot might wander into the Hideout after 2:30 AM.

“We’re closed,” he called out, shutting the fridge as he rose to his full height.

“Oh, right. Sorry. I’ll be out of your hair in a minute,” the intruder said. “I was just wondering…if you found a wallet tonight? Would’ve left it a couple hours ago.”

Eddie was surprised by how coherent the voice was, but that wasn’t what made him frown in pure confusion. Steve Harrington? King Steve? Since when does he come here?

He must have been staring, because Harrington—or the being Eddie was beginning to suspect was his secret twin or something—sounded uncertain when he prompted, “So…did you find a wallet?”

“Uh.” Eddie shook his head to clear it. “I…yes. Yeah.” He’d found it just after midnight, in plain view on the table in the corner. A wallet getting left behind was such a regular occurrence, though, that he hadn’t even bothered to look for an ID yet. He’d been planning on dealing with it after his closing routine. Now, though, he walked to the cash drawer and popped it open, then pulled the wallet out of the special slot he’d designated for such things. It was well-worn, nondescript brown leather, and sure enough, Harrington’s face smiled up at him when he opened it.

“That’s it! Holy shit, you have no idea how happy you just made me,” Harrington cried.

Eddie couldn’t help tilting his head and asking, “What the hell were you doing here, anyway? You a secret punk rocker or somethin’?”

“Ah, no,” Harrington chuckled. All of a sudden, he looked a bit uncomfortable. “I was actually here with a friend. You know Robin Buckley?”

“Sure.”

“She dragged me here because—“ He cut himself off, then simply repeated, “She dragged me here.”

“Right,” Eddie said slowly, drawing the word out. He knew that since working at the ice cream place in the mall together, Harrington and Buckley had been attached at the hip. For some reason, that put Eddie’s mind a little more at ease—even if he was still struggling to suppress every horny teenage thought he’d ever had about the guy as they suddenly resurfaced. He tossed the wallet onto the bar and sighed, “Well. I’ll have to have a talk with her about bringing in the riffraff.”

For a split second, Harrington looked offended. Then he seemed to take in Eddie’s smirk, and he grinned back. “Don’t worry. I think she decided to steer clear of the place from now on.” He didn’t pick up his wallet, instead leaning both hands on the edge of the bar. “Sorry again, Munson. For, you know…barging in while you’re shutting things down.”

He knows my name? “Don’t worry about it, man. You had to find the Amex before your dad noticed it was gone.” Eddie winked to show him it was another joke.

“That’s actually a good point. I was mostly scared of getting pulled over without my driver’s license.”

Harrington’s sheepish grimace stirred something in Eddie. At first he chalked it up to another facet of the physical attraction that had plagued him since they’d been in gym together in school, and he’d been forced to witness King Steve stretching and sweating and prancing around in those little shorts they’d had to wear. After a moment, though, he realized there was something else to it.

Steve Harrington wasn’t just hot as hell. He had the audacity to be charming, too.

Eddie bit his lip. Against his better judgement, and seemingly without input from his rational brain at all, he murmured, “Listen…you wanna stick around while I close? I could use someone to talk to other than the walls.”

Steve blinked, but his obvious surprise quickly gave way to a pleasant smile. “I guess I could use the company, too.” He sat on the nearest stool and leaned both elbows where his hands had been before, cradling his chin in his hands. “I won’t be in your way here, will I?”

“No, you’re fine right there.” Eddie tried to ignore the heat in his cheeks. What the hell have you gotten yourself into, Munson?

“No fucking way!” Eddie said. “They fired you guys for it? That’s so fucked up.”

“No arguments here,” Steve giggled.

“That’s why I never saw you there again?”

“Sure is.” He shot Eddie a coquettish wink. “I’m surprised you noticed.”

An hour before, Eddie would’ve been supremely embarrassed at the implication of Steve’s words. But they’d been talking so long by that point that the grin he answered it with was equally flirtatious. “’Course I did. You were the only reason I ever went there.”

“Now that’s unbelievable,” Steve quipped. “You went to the mall just to see me at work and never even talked to me?”

“Sure. I mean, it was really my friend Gareth. Kid loved that U.S.S. Butterscotch monstrosity. But I could’ve made him go alone.”

“You didn’t, though.” Steve smiled in a way that somehow seemed smug and bashful at the same time.

“No, I didn’t,” Eddie agreed, smirking.

He’d taken his time cleaning up the bar; even so, he’d finished half an hour ago. Normally he would’ve been doing a belly flop into his sheets by now, but it turned out talking with Steve was as fun as it had been unexpected, and he was reluctant to put an end to it. Part of him regretted not striking up a conversation on all those visits to Scoops Ahoy—even if reality dictated he never would’ve had the guts to. In truth, Gareth was a conniving little shit who hadn’t dragged him along just for the ice cream.

There was a quiet moment, then Steve said, “Can I tell you something?”

Eddie’s brow furrowed. In all their conversation, this was the first time since sitting down that Steve seemed a little nervous. “Sure,” he said again, trying to act like he hadn’t noticed the shift.

“You know how I said I was here with Robin earlier?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, she tricked me into coming here because she knew you were working.”

Eddie stared. “She did?”

“Yeah.” Steve sighed an anxious laugh. “She, uh…she spent a whole hour trying to get me to talk to you, but I didn’t want to bother you while you were on the clock.”

“To be fair, man, talking to people is a pretty big part of the job,” Eddie chuckled.

“The truth is, I kinda have…well, I got a little bit of a crush on you.” Steve’s voice had been getting gradually softer, so that his last words were barely more than a whisper.

Steve Harrington is into me? The Freak? Eddie remained silent, unable to come up with anything intelligent to say.

“I think Robin might’ve even stolen my wallet to make sure I had to come back for it,” Steve grumbled. The way he wrinkled his nose was adorable in a way that made Eddie smile in spite of his utter shock.

Sounds like Gareth and Buckley would get along. That thought, along with the acknowledgement that his own schoolboy crush was alive and well, was what snapped him out of it.

He glanced at Steve’s wallet. It had been sitting on the bar between them since he’d put it there, and they’d all but forgotten it while they’d talked. He looked at Steve again, who was refusing to meet his eye despite the cautiously hopeful expression he wore.

“In that case,” Eddie finally said, grabbing the wallet off the counter and holding it up, “you’re only getting this back on one condition, Harrington.”

Steve finally looked at him, eyebrows raised. “What condition?”

Eddie was already facing the radio behind the bar, raising the volume and tuning it to the easy-listening station that always plagued him in the early-morning hours, when he’d had a long night at work and it was the only one actually playing music. “Dance with me,” he said.

“What?”

“You’ll only get your wallet back if you dance with me.” As he walked out from behind the bar, he stuck the wallet in his back pocket. Then he raised his arms to beckon Steve forward, carefully toeing the line between mischief and warmth.

Standing there with his arms at his sides and his eyelids fluttering rapidly, Steve looked like his brain might start dripping out of his nose. “You wanna…dance?”

“I wanna dance with you,” Eddie corrected.

“Why?”

He snorted. “Because as it so happens, loverboy, I enjoy dancing with pretty people. I’m unique in that way.”

Eddie’s sarcasm seemed to finally draw Steve out of his daze. Slowly, his lips stretched into a wide grin. “I’m pretty, huh?”

“Of course,” Eddie scoffed. He beckoned again, this time raising his eyebrows and jutting out his chin as if to say, Now c’mon, Harrington. We’re burning moonlight!

Still grinning, Steve approached with caution. He gingerly placed his hands on Eddie’s waist, then whispered, “Is this alright?”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighed. He felt himself start to melt under the slight pressure of Steve’s touch. How could he not? He’d been enamored with the guy off and on for no less than three years. Even so, it was a bit of a surprise how something so simple made his heart start hammering like it was trying to break out of his chest. He didn’t let himself think too hard about where to put his own hands; when they landed on Steve’s chest, he murmured, “What about this?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. He sounded even more breathless, and his heart was going a mile a minute under Eddie’s palm, too.

For a moment, they just stood with their hands on each other, staring. Eddie was so swept up in studying Steve’s eyes up close—noting the gorgeous way the flecks of gold in his irises caught the low light—that he didn’t notice they’d started swaying until they’d been at it for a while. In fact, the thing that finally brought it to his attention was Steve closing his eyes as his smile took on a dreamy quality.

They gently rocked back and forth, and Eddie’s fingers inched upward, past Steve’s collarbone and all the way over his shoulders, until one of his arms slid around Steve’s back. The other smoothed down his arm, urging it upward until he could catch Steve’s hand in his own. Then he let his head fall forward and tucked his cheek against Steve’s.

As they danced, Eddie closed his eyes, too, intent on taking a mental snapshot of what he considered the most sublime moment any human being had ever been blessed with.

Steve’s hand in his was firm, but soft. Every breath that puffed against Eddie’s ear was a welcome reminder of their closeness. And Steve’s cologne was somehow a perfect complement to the lingering stale-cigarette smell that had never left the Hideout and probably never would.

Eddie barely heard the music at all. Instead, they danced to a rhythm all their own, moving together with perfect ease, and without having to discuss it. It was as if they’d been dancing like that every night of their lives. Eddie never wanted it to end.

It had to, though. He knew it had to. That didn’t make the pressure in his chest or the lump in his throat any easier to bear when Steve slowly leaned away from him and met his eye.

It must have been obvious on his face, because Steve’s smile was full of genuine sympathy. “I should probably be getting home. If my folks get up and they find out I was out all night…”

“No, I…I get it.” Eddie tried to smile back, but cringed internally at how misty-eyed the whole thing was making him. For fuck’s sake, Munson. You were just dancing. Get a grip.

“Thanks for asking me to stay,” Steve said.

“Thanks for leaving your wallet,” Eddie countered, managing a smirk.

Steve made a small, startled sound, like he’d forgotten about the whole reason they’d been dancing in the first place—the whole reason he’d ended up at the Hideout after close. In the next instant, his cheeks turned pink. The reaction was encouraging, Eddie had to admit.

Without a word, and without pulling his gaze away from Eddie’s, Steve leaned closer. For a brief, lightheaded moment, Eddie thought he was about to kiss him. But then he rocked backward again, and he lifted his hand between them, holding up the wallet he’d just pulled from Eddie’s pocket.

“Oh,” Eddie breathed, before he could stop himself. Disappointment, relief, and mild embarrassment swirled through his head, making him blush, too.

Steve chuckled. As he backed away fully, his free hand seemed reluctant to part from where it was still perched on Eddie’s waist. He made his way to the door, but turned around with the same hand on the knob. He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. “Do you always work on Saturdays?”

Eddie was so focused on the subtle sway of Steve’s hips—one he swore hadn’t been there when he’d walked in—that it took him far longer than it should’ve to answer Steve’s question. His cheeks grew even warmer as he stammered, “Uh, y-yeah. Usually.”

Steve grinned. “Good to know,” he said. Then he slipped out the door and into the sun’s first light.

It became a ritual. Every Saturday, Steve would come by for a drink and “forget” something, so that he could come back after everyone else was gone to retrieve it. Most often it was his wallet or a jacket. One time he managed to play off leaving his keys and not coming back for them until two whole hours had passed.

And every Saturday, after conversations that began to lengthen exponentially, Eddie would playfully remind him that he wasn’t going to be leaving with all of his belongings unless he agreed to a dance.

It didn’t take long for Eddie to stop bothering with the radio. They didn’t need it anyway.

One thing did take a while, though, and it was thanks to nerves more than anything else. Nearly two months after their first dance, Eddie murmured the words right into Steve’s ear as they made yet another slow turn across the bar: “Do you want to go out sometime?”

He felt Steve’s cheek shift against his as he smiled. “On a date?”

“Yeah. A real one.”

“I’d like that.”

“What would you want to do?” Eddie asked.

Steve hummed thoughtfully. “What about dinner?”

“I’d like that,” Eddie echoed. It earned him an equally playful pinch to the ribs.

“After that, we could rent a movie. Go back to my place to watch it since my parents are out of town,” Steve went on. His voice was heavy with implication.

Well. Eddie wasn’t about to say no to that. He swallowed the urge to start jumping up and down, only barely managing to rein in his excitement when he said, “Are you free on Tuesday? That’s my next day off.”

“I can get Robin to cover for me.”

“Good.”

Steve squeezed his hand. His cheek twitched again, and he repeated, “Good.”

“Hope I don’t leave anything at your house by accident.”

He threw his head back as he laughed. “It’s about time I have the home field advantage.”

#steddie #steddie fic #platonic stobin #author stuff

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