#I’m high key panicking

[coffeeteaitsallfine]

Guess who got selected for jury duty 😭 for a federal case I think

[inspiritualrepose]

It feels like I’m forcing characterization at the moment and I hate that

[dandylovesturtles]

explaining the train of thought that got me to this would take way too much backstory but basically I had an idea and then I wrote it. I rewatched Scream recently so maybe that helps lol

cw: death (not of a canon character), mentions of blood and vomit

-----

The call comes in at a little after 2 AM, and he almost doesn’t answer because he’s busy.

But Leo almost never calls him, and it’s a singular enough occurrence that he picks up the phone and hits the button.

“Hello, you are conversing with Donatello,” he greets. “Make it quick, Nardo, I’m elbow deep in the tank’s engine.”

On the other end of the line, Leo is silent. Or, mostly silent; Donnie can hear him breathing, a little too loud, a little too fast.

Suddenly, he’s on high alert. He sits back from the tank, speaking more urgently into the phone, “Leo?”

There’s another second of breathing, and then, finally, in a voice that is too high and panicked to be his normal joking tone, he says, “Hey, remember when I sent you that meme about siblings who will beat the crap out of each other one minute and hide a body for each other the next, and I said, “us,” and you gave it a heart?”

Donnie blinks. Processes that string of words.

“I think I recall it,” he says.

“Well,” says Leo. “I need to know if that’s really us.”

Donnie stands up and keys in the command to swap battleshells to the jetpack.

“Stay where you are,” he says. “I’m on my way.”

-----

The body is male. Early twenties. About six two or six three. Caucasian. Wearing some ghoulish mask like the serial killer in a bad teen slasher.

Actually, now that Donnie thinks about it, there’s been stuff on the news lately. About a guy who likes to knife up co-eds. And Leo’s wearing his biggest, baggiest hoodie, and jeans, and in a dark alley like this it would be easy to mistake him for a normal, non-mutated human teen.

The puzzle pieces are all laid out for Donnie, but the picture it paints is pretty unbelievable.

Then again, he’s a mutant turtle who grew up in a sewer and recently fended off an alien invasion. His bar for believable is pretty low.

He takes in the body, slashed across the chest, ridiculous getup soaked in blood. Then he turns to look at Leo, curled around his knees against the wall. There’s blood all over him, too, but Donnie feels pretty confident that most of it is not his own. There’s a puddle of vomit nearby, and a dagger, and a katana, cast aside.

Leo raises his eyes to meet Donnie’s. “I didn’t know he was human.”

Donnie looks back at the body, and at the mask. Connects it to the dagger, which definitely isn’t Leo’s.

“Seems like he was a great guy,” Donnie says. 

“He stabbed my arm.”

“I meant it sarcastically.”

Leo laughs, high and reedy. Then he leans over and vomits again.

Donnie can’t help but curl his snout at that one. He looks away and waits for Leo to finish.

There’s a spit, then a sniff, then Leo says, “He stabbed my arm and I turned around and saw the mask.”

Ah yes, that. It’s pink and has a serrated smile. Little rubbery bits of slime and ooze. These things got popular after the invasion - they aren’t anywhere near the real thing, but in a dark alley, under attack, alone, when Leo had…

The puzzle pieces are there. Donnie doesn’t really need an explanation to put it together.

Actually, scratch that: he does need an explanation for one thing.

“Why are you so upset about this?” He looks back at Leo. “You took out a serial killer. Or a wannabe serial killer. At the very least a stabber.”

“I didn’t mean to kill him,” says Leo immediately. A little pleading. “I didn’t think that would… I didn’t know he was human.”

“He attacked you.”

“I could have disarmed him. I could have trapped him and let the police deal with him.”

“He came up behind you in this creepy mask and stabbed your arm.”

“He didn’t stand a chance against me,” says Leo, and it’s not swaggering and not boastful, but horrified. “It was like tearing paper, Dee. It was so easy.”

Donnie leaves the body to kneel in front of his brother. He puts his hands on his shoulders, looking him straight in the eye to make sure he listens.

“He attacked you, Nardo. He wanted to kill you. He made the wrong choice. Not you.”

Leo looks down, at the blood on his hoodie, and Donnie squeezes his shoulders until they lock eyes again. 

“He made the wrong choice,” Donnie repeats emphatically. 

Leo sighs, like he’s giving in, and a rueful smile grows on his face. “Thanks, hermano. But I don’t think the EPF is gonna see it that way.”

Ah yes, the good old United States government, and their hilariously poorly titled Earth Protection Force. Since the invasion, their existence had become known to the EPF, and they’ve been in an unspoken truce ever since. A “live and let live” holding pattern.

Unfortunately, Donnie has to admit Leo is right on this one: that this man is likely and most probably a serial killer won’t matter to the EPF. Killing any human crosses a line they won’t tolerate.

And so, there is only one solution here. The one Leo proposed when he first called.

Donnie is going to help him hide a body.

…Which means he is going to have to touch it.

Leo frowns at him. “Uh, Dee, what’s the yarf-face for?”

“I just realized how gross this is going to be.”

Leo laughs again, more than a little hysterical, and lets his head fall against Donnie’s plastron, the giggles shaking his shoulders under Donnie’s hands.

“That wasn’t a joke,” Donnie insists. Leo just laughs even harder.

Donnie scowls, even as he pulls Leo closer. “That meme really is us. I want to beat the crap out of you right now.”

Leo howls with laughter. Except it sounds a little more like sobbing now. Donnie gathers him up and holds him until he’s better again.

-----

Across the Hudson, the sky is turning pink. Donnie stands with Leo, watching the water that the body disappeared under.

They’ve already scrubbed the alley clean of any blood traces - his and Leo’s. He also had his drones bring gloves with the cleaning supplies, so they didn’t leave any fingerprints. At least Leo had the sense not to touch anything. And it’s not like the government has their prints on file, anyway. Donnie’s checked.

There wasn’t anything they could really do to hide the massive laceration that led to the body’s death. Short of melting it in acid, but both of them had dismissed that idea as soon as Donnie raised it. Despite what Donnie thinks of himself, he isn’t actually a stone cold disposer of bodies. The idea of melting it was too gross to think about.

Besides, it doesn’t matter if the body gets found, as long as it doesn’t get traced back to them. And Donnie doesn’t see any reason it should.

He’s already hacked any security cameras near the scene and made sure Leo doesn’t show up on any of them. Leo’s a good enough ninja to avoid that sort of thing, anyway, not that Donnie will admit it out loud. The crabs and fish will take care of the flesh and the katana’s mark. Leo destroyed the weapon itself in a bright blue explosion of ninpo.

“It’s kind of a bummer,” says Leo after a minute, “that the murders will go unsolved.”

“No, they won’t.” Donnie pulls out a phone, holding it carefully with his gloves. “He helpfully took trophy photos.”

Leo’s eyes go wide. “Dude, did you fish around in his pockets?”

Donnie can’t help but curl his lips. “Ugh, don’t remind me. It was a very unpleasant experience and I don’t want to repeat it.”

“What are you going to do with it?”

“Find where he lived and leave it there.” Donnie shrugs. “His body will turn up, or he’ll get reported missing. The cops will find it and everything will be wrapped up in a neat little bow.”

“Huh. Guess that takes care of that.” A pause. Leo shuffles a bit next to him. “You’re… really calm about this.”

Is he? Since the moment he got that phone call, he entered Fix It mode. He hasn’t really thought of anything else since.

“I don’t know if I will be later,” he admits.

“I’ll be there, if you’re not.”

Donnie hums an acknowledgement. There’s a weight against his arm, Leo leaning into him.

“Thanks, Dee,” he says.

“You’d do the same for me,” Donnie replies.

“Yeah,” Leo agrees. Simple as that.

[charliemwrites]

Woof woof… whimper

(Part 10… but technically a continuation of part 9)

Content: Dub-Con/Non-Con, Knotting

It takes your cock-addled brain a second too long to process what Soap’s just said. What he’s implied. And by then he’s all ready for you to buck against him, confused and angry.

“That’s so — that’s not funny!” You shout.

But he’s got you pinned thoroughly, your chest flat against the mattress and your ass flush against his hips. His cock buried so deep you can feel the hot head of it bullying the deepest parts of you. All your struggling does is make you clench up tight around him, makes him feel that much bigger and meaner inside you. Makes him grunt low and ragged in your ear, all animal appreciation.

“I’m not laughin’,” he replies, nipping at your shoulder.

“G-get off of me, get out, get—”

His hand slides into your hair again, gets a firm hold at the roots and presses your face into the blankets, muffling your protests. Shushes you like soothing a panicked animal.

“Now, now,” he chides, “I still gotta prove I’m not compensating, don’t I?”

You suck in a breath, squeezing your eyes shut. There have to be a million explanations other than the absolutely ludicrous one he’s just presented to you. Cameras, microphones….

How did he know where you live?

How did he know where the spare key was?

How did he know where your bedroom was?

How did he find you at the bar?

Stalker, you tell yourself. He’s a creep, you’ve always known that.

Then where’s your dog?

“N-no,” you warble, bucking again. Nearly scream as his cock twitches inside you; only reason you don’t is because you can barely breathe as it is. He’s so deep inside that he’s practically in your lungs. “No way you’re my — there’s no way. You’re crazy. I’m gonna— ah!”

He draws out as you speak, gradual, and then plunges in again all at once, cutting you off. Grinds his hips in a dirty circle too, burying himself as deep as he can.

“Aww, poor thing,” he coos. “S’alright, baby, I knew this would happen. We jus’ gotta get all those big, scary feelings out first. Then I can explain it all nice and slow.”

You try to scream at him. Try to curse him out, tell him there’s no way in hell you’re listening to a word he says now; never mind letting him spend another second with his dick in you.

All that comes out is a high-pitched keen as he starts fucking you without further preamble. It aches, but you can’t tell in what way. If it hurts, if it’s the best you’ve ever had. Both? Your nerves feel haywire, brain dragged to lust-stupid depths.

“See, there we go,” he rasps, punctuating with a sharp snap of his hips on that last word. “My perfect little mate. Your cunt was made for my cock, made to be bred by me. Isn’t that right?”

You try to shake your head, but his grip keeps you from doing more than sending electricity down your spine, hair pulled taut.

“Yeah it fucking is,” he growls to his own question, canting your hips back further. His fingers grip cruelly into the flesh, sure to leave bruises. You wish you didn’t enjoy the sensation, wish it didn’t make you spasm around him helplessly.

“‘Bout time I owned you right back, don’t you think?” He continues, never stopping or even slowing. You yelp as he tugs your necklace again, arching your back at a steep angle. “Even collared yourself up for me. All it needs is my name.”

Something about that drives some awful, slutty part of your brain fucking wild. The idea of you with a tight leather choker — a collar — with his name (you don’t think about what name) hanging from your throat…

“Like that, don’t you?” He chuckles meanly. “Who’s my good little slut? Who’s my perfect, soaked little breeding whore?”

Tears spring to your eyes as you realize the “I am” is right there on the tip of your over-saturated tongue. If you had air, brain cells, any ability at all, you’d be crying it to the ceiling like the toy he’s treating you as.

He’s going to ruin you, you think. He’s going to fuck you broken. You’re crying and wailing on his cock, think you’d actually throw a tantrum if he pulled out and left you on the edge right now. Would, you realize in horror, beg for him to keep going.

And then he snakes his hand around your hip and starts rubbing your clit — fast, hard little circles. Just the way you like; the way you’d do it yourself. Relentlessly and cruel, even when you try to writhe away from how fast you can feel yourself getting to the edge. Almost frightened by it, how quickly he’s mastered your body’s pleasure.

Frightened by the extra stimulation at your entrance, too. A little extra friction at first — shocking because you’re leaving a puddle on the sheets. But then the friction becomes pressure, becomes… more.

“W-wha….?” You slur, hips wriggling.

Soap (Johnny?) snarls in your ear and that feeling at your entrance grows. Feels, you realize with alarm, like stretching.

“Gonnae take my knot so well,” he rambles, accent thick like syrup, trickling into your empty brain, filling you up with meaningless sounds. “Plug you up full of my cum, breed you right just like you need.”

Any questions or confusion are whisked away by the extra stimulation at your entrance. The sensitive nerves getting just as much brutal attention as your inner walls, your cervix, that sweet spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back.

It all becomes too much all at once and crashes through you, devastating. You clamp down around him tight and needy, lean all your weight back into his thighs. And he practically howls as he sinks into you and stays, grinding and humping without ever actually pulling out again. You feel a flood of heat that seems to go on for an absurdly long time, cock pulsing against your overstimulated walls, milked for every last drop.

You shudder as your brain tries and fails to process it all. Like trying to decipher a foreign language from white noise. It’s nothing but static to you.

You can feel a tongue against your shoulder, scraped of blunt teeth. Soap/Johnny licking the sweat from your skin and nipping bruises into the flesh. You make an annoyed noise that comes out whinier than intended, shoving at his face.

“Get off, you bastard.” Your voice is pathetic, thick with tears and fractured in a hundred places.

“Can’t, bonnie, even if I wanted to.”

You scowl, try to look at him over your shoulder. He takes that opportunity to nuzzle against your temple.

“What?” You ask. “What are you talking about?”

“Did ye hear me?” He chuckles. “Well, maybe not with the way you were screamin’. You’re all knotted up, baby. Can’t pull out — ‘less you want this pretty pussy to tear.”

You jolt, nearly yank yourself off out of pure fear, but Johnny keeps you still again, humming.

“Easy now,” he croons. “Still fussy? Need another to settle down?”

Useless as your brain may be, it recognizes what he means by “another one.” You think you might pass out.

“No,” you snap, petulant even to your own ears. “I want you to explain… explain everything.”

“Alright, hen. C’mere.”

He gently lays you out prone on the bed, then rolls you both on your sides. Hitches your leg up over his hip. You want to protest, but it helps the ache in your poor cunt.

“H-how are you still hard?” You pant, traitorous pussy twitching around him.

He growls in your ear, can feel him grinning against the lobe. “Will stay that way for a bit, lass. Don’ worry, you jus’ have to lay here all nice and still. Keep me warm while I explain things to you.”

And he does. How there are shapeshifters out there in the world, rare as they are. That he comes from a line of them. Recruited to military, as most of them are.

How he was on standard patrol when he smelled you for the first time.

“Like a wet dream, bonnie. Fertile. Spring. Smelled like mine.”

How he instantly knew you were his mate. That he just needed to make you see it. Never a good time to explain it all to you — and then there were interlopers and your silly little books and your pesky toys. How he tried to drop hints around the house, let you come to the correct conclusion on your own. But you never did.

“Honestly it’s a good thing I’m here, hen. You’re so oblivious. Lived with a man and never even knew it.”

That he tried to go about it the other way ‘round, as a man, but you’re just so stubborn. And then how it all led up to tonight. To you finally, finally realizing what you really needed: your mate.

You should be angry, furious. There’s a lot to say about… well, all of it. It’s horrifying and violating and… and…

And he hasn’t stopped bullying your clit since he started talking. Cruel, tight circles. Drawing the hood back with two fingers and stroke with a third, slow and languid and just soft enough to make your head spin. Rhythmless taps. Even pinches when you try to chew him out at one point, half turning to scowl. Instead have his tongue lapping sloppily at yours as your mouth gapes open soundlessly.

Makes you cum twice just like that without ever interrupting his own story, cock still hilted — knotted deep inside you. Honestly, you probably miss a good portion of it, some of the finger details for sure. But you get the broad strokes (among other strokes).

He licks at your overstimulated tears when he’s finished, nuzzling and kissing your cheek.

“I-I miss my dog,” you mumble finally, hands balled against your chest.

“Aww, darlin’,” he sighs, sounding genuinely apologetic. “We’re one and the same. I’m always your boy no matter what form I take.”

It would be more comforting if his dick didn’t throb calling himself your boy.

“‘Sides, I’m better than a normal mutt,” he continues, tugging you against his chest. You want to hate that is instantly makes you feel a little better. “Wolves mate for life, after all.”

First | Previous | 1fur1

Masterlist

[sp0o0kylights]

Steve and Gareth as cousins warm up, part two! 

First part is HERE. 

Next part is HERE. 

Reminder: Someone on Twitter proposed Steve and Gareth as cousins whose family had a major falling out, and then someone else brought it up recently and long story short no idea who to credit the idea too bc you can’t search for SHIT on Twitter but it's theirs not mine.

Warnings: Steve and Robin Get (canon-S3) Drugged. 

"I'm just saying the other theater is cheaper." Eddie said around the straw jammed in his mouth. 

He carried the largest bucket of popcorn Starcourt’s movie theater offered, alongside the two boxes of candy he'd also demanded Gareth buy him. 

"Easier to sneak into, you mean." Gareth corrected, with his significantly smaller bag of popcorn. His, he planned to share with Jeff, Grant having snuck in his own food. 

Gareth himself would have snuck in the cheaper (and far larger) snacks, but Eddie had thrown a fit about going to the mall to see a new movie instead of Hawkin’s far older theater. 

Of course, the older theater also had several disadvantages, key of which was terrible seating, and so, Gareth had bribed him with whatever treats he wanted. 

His wallet took a hit but fuck it, at least they got to actually see the screen. 

Not that they even made it into the fucking theater, because someone chose that moment to crash into Eddie. 

Popcorn kernels and soda flew everywhere, with Eddie only avoiding it landing on him and Gareth both by years of dealing with this exact bullshit in school. Of course, the mall wasn’t school, and neither of them had their guard up. 

"What the hell man--" Eddie spat, immediately on the defense, as they both turned to see what jackass wanted to cause problems this time. 

Except Gareth had recognized the person who bumped him. 

"Steve?" Gareth asked, causing  his cousin to totter around and face him. He was in his Scoops Ahoy uniform, which remained to be absolutely ridiculous, but that hadn't been what had drawn Gareth's attention. 

No, that would be the absolute wrecked face staring at him with a doped up grin. 

All thoughts of the movie immediately faded away. 

"What happened to your face!?" Gareth demanded, immediately stepping up into his cousin's space, eyes darting over the damage. 

Recent black eye, split lip, blood splatter all down one side of his neck, nevermind his clothes… 

"Robs!" Steve called over his shoulder instead of answering, body moving as if he was walking on a wildly rocking boat and not solid ground. "Come 'ere!" 

He beamed, which had the horrific effect of resplitting his lips. "Meet Gareth, my baby cousin!" 

"I am two years younger than you." Gareth argued on automatic. He didn’t look to see how Eddie took this little piece of info--he’d figure out what he’d say later, when Steve wasn’t covered in blood. 

It did not stop Robin from reaching out to pinch his cheeks. 

She too, Gareth realized, was clearly high on something, both of them giggling and weaving on their feet. 

At least Robin didn’t appear to be hurt--or at least, not hurt as badly as Steve. 

"What the hell did you two take?" Gareth demanded, looking between them as he quickly put his popcorn back off to the side. 

"We didn't take anything, dad." Steve said bossily, rolling his eyes. He spoke in a voice so unlike himself that Gareth knew his own face was doing something crazy. 

Not that he could stop it because what the hell. 

"What my patriotic friend here means is that we don't know." Robin added, smacking a hand onto Steve’s shoulder. 

(The entire sentence was slurred and sounded like she'd shoved candy in her mouth before she started talking.) 

"You don't know?!” Gareth asked, taking in the way Steve flinched when Robin touched him. Added a mental note to check his cousin's shoulder too. “How do you not know?" 

Gareth wasn't panicking, he wasn't, except he absolutely fucking was. Steve's dad was going to kill him, disown him, and throw the body out of his house--in that exact order. 

Gareth’s parents wouldn’t take him in, not unless his mom felt she could use it to one up her sister in some way which meant that Gareth was going to have to sneak Steve in and out of the house like he was some--some puppy Gareth was trying to keep and--

"Did someone give you two something?" Eddie asked, interrupting Gareth’s spiraling. 

"Give is a very strong word." Steve said with a snicker. 

Robin nodded so much she looked like a bobble head. She leaned in, nearly falling into Gareth in the process. “In fact it’s not the word I’d use at all! I’d use…” She trailed off, screwing her eyes up in thought. 

“Made us?” Steve suggested as Gareth finally gave in to his instincts and reached out to steady his cousin. “Forced us?” 

“Socked it to us!” Robin added with a weird amount of glee, and the two of them once again collapsed into giggles.

Literally, forcing Gareth to try and steady them both. 

Which meant Eddie was right--they’d been drugged. It made perfect sense-- Steve wasn’t the kind to experiment with drugs beyond weed. Had in fact, given a very long lecture about how he’d make Gareth go on runs with him if he ever found out Eddie had given him anything stronger than weed. 

There was no way he’d change now, and especially not around a jobsite. Particularly one as busy as the mall. 

"You can't tell anybody." Robin continued, eyes so wide they were more white than pupils. "But we got truth serumed!" 

As if that made any fucking sense. 

Gareth turned a half frantic, half disbelieving look to Eddie--whose own face scared him almost as badly as Steve's did. 

He was hiding it, and doing a good job of doing so, but Eddie was the one person Gareth knew better than Steve. 

Right now? Eddie Munson was furious. 

Not mad, or upset, or even as pissed as he had been the time Tommy Hagan had thrown his drug box in the river. 

He was enraged. 

"Hey." He said, and the only thing more shocking than realizing Eddie was this mad was hearing him talk in a calming, almost playful voice. "Sounds like you two sailors had a pretty rough time. Why don't we go to the bathroom and get you both cleaned up? I bet you'll feel a little better." 

It was clearly the right move, because both of them looked downright delighted. 

"He thinks we're sailors!" Steve said, cupping a hand around his mouth and leaning to talk in Robin’s ear as if he was whispering. (He wasn’t.) 

Robin’s grin grew impossibly wider, before Eddie stepped forward to help Gareth half guide half herd the two into the nearest bathroom. 

"I know you." Robin said, squinting dramatically as Eddie opened the door with his regular flair, bellowing for anyone in the place to get out. 

It was Steve's turn to nod enthusiastically. "That's Eddie, Robbie." He said.

"I'm honored King Steve knows such a humble peasant's name." Eddie bowed as Gareth finally got both Steve and Robin into the bathroom, trying to get them to sit on the floor before they fell on their asses. 

Which just made a hurt expression appear on Steve's face. "’Course I do. You have really pretty hair." 

It had the effect of making Eddie look like he’d been punched and Gareth had to quickly turn his bark of laughter into a cough. 

"I bet it's soft.” Steve continued, as he pressed his back against the tiled wall and slowly slid down to the floor. “Gare, is it soft?" 

"It's very soft." Gareth agreed, trying to wet a paper towel with shaking hands. Finally he gave up entirely, ripping the plaid sweater he had tied around his waist and shoving one of the sleeves into the sink. 

“Oh my god.” Robin said abruptly, sitting up from her own slouched spot on the floor as if she’d suddenly been stricken sober. “It’s him! He’s your type!” 

“What’s my type?” Steve turned to her, as Eddie leaned his back against the door to the bathroom, blocking anyone else from entering. 

“It’s like--like Nancy! But boy Nancy.” Robin seemed to think this made a ton of sense, and given Steve’s immediate groan maybe it did to him, but Gareth was too freaked out to even begin to process what the hell they were on about.

Probably nothing, given they’d been drugged. 

Eddie seemed to pick up on his general anxiety and poor attempts at shoving down his own freakout, because he gently called out Gareth’s name. 

“I think it’s wet enough.” He added with a raised eyebrow. His eyes drifted purposefully to the sink and with a curse, Gareth snapped shut the water off. 

His hands were still shaking. 

“Give it to me.” Eddie said gently, moving to take the shirt from Gareth’s hands. “Here, swap me Gare, and guard the door.” 

Gareth did, as Eddie knelt down to take Steve’s chin in one hand, and carefully began dapping his wounded face with the wet sleeve. 

“May I ask what battles you two sailors have been involved in?” He said, continuing to sound like playful, fun Eddie and not like he was about to murder half the town (which, Gareth could tell by body language alone, is what Eddie actually felt like) “Did you happen to catch a glimpse of the villains who did this?"

“Robin melted into Steve, rubbing her face in his shoulder. “You wouldn’t believe us.” 

Eddie smiled his most charming smile, a full blown rouge grin he played up as he continued to wipe and dab at Steve’s wounds. “You’d be surprised at what I believe in, my fair lady.” 

Steve tried to talk, but ended up hissing as he ran into Eddie’s fingers. 

“Russians.” He managed to get out, when Eddie quickly took the sleeve away so he could talk. “We got kidnapped by fucking Russians. Also we kinda saw some shit and they’re after us. Possibly you now if they saw you with us.” 

There was the briefest of pause as Steve and Robin stared at Eddie, as Eddie stared back. 

Then Steve and Robin as one started howling with laughter, so hard that Robin’s head ended up in Steve’s lap with Steve’s own head resting on hers. 

Eddie turned to give Gareth a pinched look. “Russians.” He said, still calm despite it all. “Right.” 

Which had to be the fucking drugs speaking. 

Gareth just took a deep breath as Eddie managed to gently prod Steve back into putting his chin in his hand, shaking his head ever so slightly. 

He didn’t know who he was going to actually have to murder, but at least Eddie looked to be on board with acting as his backup. 

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

I love how you characterize Aaron Hotchner! Would you please write something for him along with the quote ‘keep your eyes open, sweetheart’? Completely up to you, but was definitely thinking about some heavy angst 🙃🙃

"look at me" - hotch x gn!bau!reader - 985 words

cw: injuries and depictions of violence, general angst, anxiety, hotch literally just being a hero as per freakin usual

why hello my love! thank you sm for this request <3

i don't write a lot of angst, it's certainly something i need practice with! but i really enjoyed writing this and i smooch ur lil forehead

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

People always say that in a near-death experience, your whole life flashes before your eyes. 

Not yours. 

You didn’t see your whole life, no. You saw bits and pieces - learning to ride a bike, walking at your high school graduation, pinning your FBI badge to your blazer. And then you just saw Aaron. 

The first time you met, shaking hands as a brazen formality in the middle of a case, feeling his deep, brown eyes scrutinize your every move, watching him watch you. He was testing you back then, seeing if you’d be a good fit for the team.

The first real conversation you shared with him - The Beatles, which song was his favorite? Laughing at him when he said Yellow Submarine. 

When he held your hand for the first and only time on a particularly rough case, about four months ago, and promised you that things would get better. 

When you comforted him for the first time, about three months ago, after Haley left him. You promised him that everything happens for a reason. 

Five minutes ago, when you told him you felt certain the unsubs were going to strike again. You felt it in the pits of your stomach, you told Aaron. And he just nodded and said he trusted your intuition. Then he held the door open for you, and led you out of the police station, into the dead-quiet night of the street.  

He clicked the key fob in his hand, and the SUV burst into red-hot flames and sent you both flying. You were immediately knocked unconscious, your body thrust out into the street flippantly, like someone had simply thrown a baseball. 

You come to on the concrete, your head pounding. All sound is muffled, but you see Aaron on his knees, hovering over you. His face is covered in dirt and soot and blood, and he keeps cupping his hand over his ear. 

“ - hear me?” Sound is restored in the middle of Aaron’s question. It’s abrupt, like someone changing the channel on the TV, but you can hear again. You feel dizzy and disoriented as you prop yourself up on your elbows. 

“Stay down,” Aaron instructs, guiding you gently to lay flat on your back once again. Your entire body is throbbing. 

“Aaron,” you feel a panicked, whispered sob escape you. He grabs your hand and you feel him squeeze it. Your eyes roll into the back of your head. You feel dizzy, like you might pass out again and Aaron’s grip tightens around your hand. “It hurts.” 

“Keep your eyes open for me, sweetheart. Please?” The endearment rolls off of Aaron’s tongue like he’s said it a million times before. He hasn’t. Your relationship with him has been professional-ish up until this point. You’re not sure how he feels about you, exactly, but at this moment, it doesn’t matter. 

 He doesn’t even acknowledge that he said it. “What hurts?” Aaron’s speaking loudly, like someone who has headphones in. His hand is still pressed against his ear. 

“All of it,” you murmur. “Everything.” 

You feel tears in your eyes. Your stomach is in knots and you feel like someone is sitting on your chest. You blink a few times, feeling the tears drip down your face and onto your lips, salty and full of dread. 

Aaron’s checking you over, you realize, lifting your head gently and quickly to make sure you’re not bleeding. He’s talking to you, telling you what he’s doing so you don’t panic even more. He uses feather-light touches to lift your arm, and pain shocks you, coursing through your wrist. “Shh, hey, I’m sorry,” he says, laying your arm by your side. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Your wrist is broken.” 

You blink a few tears away. 

“I’m going to pick you up, Y/N,” he tells you. He never calls you by your first name, but you’re in so much pain that you can’t even be jarred by it. “Can you move your other arm?” 

It feels laden, but you can. You nod and whimper in confirmation. 

“Can you hook it around my neck?” He asks as he slides his hands under you. The crooks of your knees and your back are cradled by Aaron’s arms and you wrap your arm around his neck. Once he determines you’re stable in his arms, he lifts you up. You hear sirens blaring as they get closer, and you see Aaron grimace. You feel his body tense up, his fingers curl around the fabric of your shirt. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask him in an unfiltered mumble, sniffling as he carries you towards the nearest ambulance. 

“It’s just my ear. I’m fine, Y/N. I’ll be fine,” he promises, but you feel how labored his gait is. It’s taking everything in him to carry you to the ambulance. You want to tell him to stop, to remind him that the paramedics can bring the gurney to you. But you’re so tired, so dizzy. You think maybe if you just rest your eyes a little bit, you might feel better. Your head tilts to rest in the crook of Aaron’s neck. Your eyes flutter shut. 

“Y/N, you might have a concussion. You have to stay awake, okay?” Aaron’s voice draws you back. Your eyes are shaky when they open, and you see him looking at you with weighted concern as he sets you onto the gurney. 

The paramedics load you shakily up into the ambulance, and you reach your uninjured arm out. “You’re going to the hospital with me, right?” You ask. 

Aaron nods, climbing in after the paramedics and sitting beside you. His eyes are piercing and full of consternation as he takes your uninjured hand in both of his. He runs his fingertips over your knuckles, nodding assuredly, though you are certain he is feeling exactly the opposite.  “Yeah. Of course. I’m not going to leave you.”

[hqbaby]

five — crush them

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 1.9k content. profanity, lots of stress first thing in the morning

When you wake up, you’re vaguely aware of the foot on your face. And the elbow pressed against your thigh. And the hand on your knee. And the drool on your sheets.

You open your eyes, blinking as they adjust to the light, and look over at Sukuna, spread out on the mattress in a deep slumber. There’s an impulse to kick him, an impulse to laugh at how he hasn’t changed at all, still as much of a restless sleeper as he was in high school. But there’s another impulse—to jump out of your bed because you are so fucking late for training.

“Holy shit!” you exclaim, throwing Sukuna’s leg off of you as you practically crawl out of bed, half of your body still asleep while the other fights for its life to get up. “I’m gonna die!”

Sukuna’s awake now, eyes wide with panic as he watches you scramble to your closet and grab your shorts, shirt, socks. “What?” he says loudly, scrambling to get up too. “What’s happening?”

You pull your shirt off, completely ignoring the fact that you’re getting undressed in front of your well-known pervert of a best friend, as you search for a sports bra in your dresser. “I’m late!” you say, more to yourself than to him. “Coach is gonna have my head!”

“What?” he says again, louder this time, as he topples out of your bed, his head hitting the floor. “Fuck!”

You glance over at him. He’s rubbing his forehead as he searches for his hoodie. “Why are you panicking?” you ask, panicked.

“Because you’re panicking!” he says. He finds his hoodie and pulls it on, quickly rushing for your bedroom door. “I’ll drive you! You can change in the car!”

You’re standing in your bedroom in nothing but your bra and pajamas, hands full of clothes. If you were thinking clearly right now, you’d tell him he was being stupid. There’s no way in hell you’re going to get changed in his car. What is he even doing here in the first place? But your better judgment has escaped you and the only thought in your head is loud and blaring: You’re late.

“Move faster!” you tell him, grabbing your tennis bag in the corner and rushing past him. At least you have enough sense to not forget your phone and house keys before you’re running out of the apartment, Sukuna hot on your heels.

The two of you eschew the elevator, both knowing just how much time you’ll lose waiting for it, and run down the three flights of stairs to the parking lot.

“Where’s your car?” you yell at him over your shoulder. It occurs to you then how ridiculous you must look, half-dressed and completely deranged. You can’t bring yourself to care.

He points at the beat-up thing at the end of the parking lot. “There!” he says, tossing you the keys. “Go!”

You run ahead and start the car, jumping into the backseat as Sukuna finally catches up to you and gets in the driver’s seat. He steps on the gas as you haphazardly change into your clothes before checking to see the time. 

You’re ten minutes late as it is. You are so going to pay for this.

“Can’t you go any faster?” you ask him, smoothing out the creases in your shirt.

“Not if you don’t want to die.”

“I’m already gonna die!”

He swerves onto campus grounds, speeding as the car darts straight towards the sports complex. “If we die, do you think we’re going to hell?”

“Definitely,” you say, already on the edge of your seat as he pulls up in front of the gym. “Bye!”

You rush out of the car, running past a group of bewildered guys from the basketball team as you zoom ahead, running on pure adrenaline. When you get to the gates of the tennis court, you stop dead in your tracks.

Your bag.

You’re running back, already out of breath when you bump—well, crash into something. Or, to be more specific, someone.

There’s a moment when you feel your legs give under you and you’re ready to fall onto the ground. You hope that it’s a clean fall, one that won’t end in you dissolving into a puddle of flesh and bones. You wait for the fall, the pain, the terror.

And it never comes.

Instead, you feel two hands on your waist. A chest against yours. A voice saying your name with concern.

You look up.

Satoru.

His eyes are on you, searching for any signs of injury, any signs of distress. His grip on you is tight and familiar. His gaze is scrutinizing, but oh so comfortable.

There’s an impulse to cry to him and tell him that you’re late for training. That you’ll probably never see you again because you’re going to die very soon. That you want him to hold you forever. That you miss him. That you want him back.

You jump away, not allowing yourself to melt into his touch even if your body is screaming at you to let it. “Shit, I’m sorry,” you say as you try to find your balance. You realize that one of his hands is still on your waist. “I didn’t see—”

Another voice calls your name.

Sukuna runs towards you with your bag in hand. His footfalls slow when he sees you. When he sees Satoru.

“You forgot your bag,” he says, blinking as he processes the picture before him. You and your beloved ex who has his hand on you. “I thought you were late.”

You don’t have time for this, you decide, rushing over to grab your bag from him. “I am,” you say, already turning to run back to the court. “Thanks!”

You’re leaving before either of the two men can say a word.

“Finally gracing us with your presence?” your coach, Yuki, says as you step onto the court. To your relief, she doesn’t look too upset, even slightly amused. “Had somewhere better to be?”

“No, coach, I’m sorry,” you say as you take your place beside Mai. The rest of the girls on the team look at you with worry, confusion. “It won’t happen again.”

She crosses her arms over her chest and sighs. “You know what to do.”

You hang your head. “How many?”

“Five,” she says, hands already waving you off. “Go, go. We’re doing drills.”

You nod, dropping your bag on the benches before going off to do laps around the court.

It’s only as you’re running that the whole morning dawns on you. You woke up next to Sukuna. You got undressed in the back of his car. You literally ran into Satoru. And Sukuna found you with him.

It shouldn’t bother you as much as it does that your best friend who, yes, you are dating but only as a ruse, saw you with your ex. But it still leaves a weird feeling lingering in your chest, like a cough that’s just waiting to explode.

What should bother you more is how you were so ready to fold for Satoru. And, yet, that somehow feels right. It’s like you always knew you’d want to run back to him given the chance. It’s like you never wanted to leave in the first place.

As you hit your fourth lap, one thought strikes you: You don’t feel as tired as you usually are.

The past three weeks have been a haze of sleepless nights that have rendered you useless in the morning. You go to class, go to training, find it in yourself to eat, then lie in bed wide awake. Any moments of rest have quickly been interrupted by your recurring night terrors.

But you slept well. A solid few hours of dreamless sleep. As much as you want to deny it, you can’t help but think that it has something to do with the fact that you didn’t sleep alone. That Sukuna was right there beside you the whole time.

“What’s up with you?” Mai asks, handing you a bottle of water when you finally finish your laps. “You’re not usually this out of it.”

You take a swig of water and wipe your forehead with a towel. “Just a weird morning.”

She doesn’t buy it, because who would? So she stares at you, hard eyes waiting for an answer. While both Maki and Mai are capable of being completely terrifying, there’s just something about Mai that makes you shrink back, want to run and hide.

“The breakup’s been tough,” you tell her, immediately regretting it as soon as you say it. You can’t believe you’ve become the kind of girl who falls apart because of a guy. It’s embarrassing, but now you realize it’s probably warranted at times. Especially times like these. “It’s just a bad time.”

She raises a brow. “You can’t let it get in the way though,” she reminds you. “We have a tournament next week. I’m not losing my scholarship because you’ve decided to slack off.”

Now, that strikes a chord. That lights a fire. That starts a challenge. Like fuck are you going to let her think you’re slacking off.

“Fuck you,” you say, putting your water bottle down. You take your racket out and nod towards the court. Two of your teammates are already on the other side of the net. “Let’s crush them.”

She grins at that. “That’s my girl.”

“You can’t let her egg you on like that,” Maki says, watching as you slather yourself with Salonpas on the floor of your living room. “She’s just being a bitch. Like always.”

“I know,” you tell her. You wince as your muscles tense beneath your touch. “But she’s right. I can’t let Satoru get in the way.”

Your friend eyes you suspiciously. You can tell that she wants to say something, but she’s clearly holding her tongue.

“What?”

She feigns innocence. “What?”

“You have something to say,” you tell her. “So say it.”

Maki shrugs. “Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.”

“It is.”

“Maki.”

She stretches out on your couch, her head lolling to the side as she lies down. Avoiding your eyes, she says, “Maybe it’s not just Satoru who’s getting in the way.”

“What do you mean?” you ask. “I haven’t broken up with anyone else.”

“Sure,” she says, looking at you now. “But you and Sukuna have been spending an awful lot of time together.”

You find yourself shaking your head automatically, as if you were just waiting for her to say that. “That’s stupid.”

Maki gives you a knowing look. “Okay,” she says and drops the subject completely. She knows you, and she knows you’re definitely going to be stubborn about this. Because there really is nothing going on with Sukuna. He’s just your friend, nothing more. “So what are we having for dinner?”

“Do you mean what are you going to buy me for dinner?”

The two of you bicker before deciding on heating leftovers from the other night. You’re not exactly sure that the leftovers in question are still edible but that hasn’t stopped you before.

While Maki raids the fridge, you unplug your phone from where it’s charging by the couch. And that’s when you see it. Or, well, them.

booger: i left my sunglasses at ur place

booger: give them back tnx

satoru <3 : i hope training was okay

satoru <3 : can we talk sometime?

notes. idk about you guys but i would run back to gojo at the first chance too 🧍‍♀️

[stayinlimbo]

We Become We

pairing: husband!lee minho x reader genre/warnings: friends to lovers, marriage of convenience, fluff, poor attempts at me trying to be funny, mc's gender is not specified word count: 1.02k note:  i am not dead yay. i tried my best since i haven't had time to write for almost a month so please take this as a peace offering ♡

Marriage. It’s an interesting concept, isn’t it? 

You’ve always thought so, at least. Two people agreeing to sign a legal document and tethering their lives to each other for whatever reason, be it love, societal expectations, familial pressure, financial security, etc. 

Yours happens to be a man named Lee Minho. The same man you’ve been friends with for as long as you can remember. The same man who asked you to marry him for a reason you didn’t get to learn until he was already down on one knee. 

(“I’m sorry, you want me to WHAT?” “Marry me. Please, I need health insurance.”

“Okay, yes, sure, whatever; now please get off the floor. People are staring.”)

Lee Minho, who, after dragging you to the courthouse and legally becoming your husband, finally elaborated on how his job would pay him more and cover both of your health insurances if he was married. So really, in his words, he was “doing you a huge favor” by marrying you. 

And, in all honesty, he really was. No, you didn’t have a ring to show off your new husband’s weird skill at finding loopholes in company policy, and you’re like thirty-five percent sure the two of you are committing some kind of marriage fraud, but does it really matter when you can finally start using the hot water in your dingy apartment without worrying if you’ll have enough money to fund your crippling caffeine addiction? The government will have to drag you kicking and screaming before you resort back to mankind’s cruelest form of torture: cold showers. 

Not to mention that marriage didn’t even change your relationship with Minho. And why would it? You’re still you, and he’s still him. He gets on your nerves just the same, maybe even a little bit more after he decided to frame your marriage certificate in his living room and send a photo to all your mutual friends. You’ll never forgive Minho for laughing at your helplessly panicked state when the group chat wouldn’t stop exploding with messages and incessant calls. 

You’re still his best friend that resides in his apartment four out of seven days of the week while he inhabits yours for the other three. Maybe that’s why, two weeks after your “wedding,” when it was time to renew your lease, Minho suggested with a simple shrug of his shoulders that you move in with him since “you’re here all the time anyway.” 

You’ve really got to learn how to say no to him because now you wake up next to your best friend/roommate/husband in his one bedroom, one bathroom apartment at the crack of dawn with a light pressure on your chest and fur in your face when his cats decide you need to wake up right now to feed them. 

Not to say you don’t like the new arrangement! No, that would be the furthest from the truth. 

Sure, you didn’t appreciate your skin care routine being interrupted by the unexpectedly high-pitched scream Minho let out when he saw you in a face mask for the first time, and what kind of person still has their phone’s brightness turned up all the way before bed? But who else would willingly tolerate your deliriousness before your morning coffee or indulge in your pleas to cook your favorite food three days in a row? 

Living with Minho has only made the purely platonic feelings you harbor for him grow stronger.

That’s what the fluttering in your chest means every time you see him, right? The reason for the smile that grows on your face when you hear the distinct jingling of keys at the front door?

Yeah, that must be why heat spread across your cheeks when he handed you his phone to text one of his friends back, because since when did the heart emoji make an appearance next to your pinned contact name?

You just care about each other, that’s all. It’s normal to want to make sure he arrived at work safely and ask how his day is going during your lunch breaks. It’s normal to start receiving back hugs before bed—a comforting weight as Minho’s chin rests on your shoulder while you apply the rest of the products to your face. 

It’s natural to have doubts about the nature of your relationship during an evening walk, acutely aware of his fingers lightly brushing against yours as you silently study his features illuminated by the soft glow of the scattered streetlights. What if he meets someone else and falls in love with them and wants a divorce and– oh. 

Has he always looked at you like that? With his gaze softening as it locks with yours? With the corners of lips lifting into the gentlest smile you’ve ever seen? With all the stars shining above you finding a second home in his eyes? A look so loving that it takes your breath away and you can’t tell if you’re about to laugh or cry in relief. 

And when you return home to get ready for bed, the familiar feeling of hands wrapping around your waist and a careful pressure resting by the crook of your neck quells the remnants of your worries.

It’s you and Minho. Minho and you, just as it always has been. Just as it’s always meant to be.

The distance between your bodies on the bed becomes nonexistent when you curl yourself into his side, laying your head on his shoulder and intertwining your legs with his as he immediately, unhesitantly, adjusts his arm, his fingertips finding purchase on exposed skin and roaming across the span of your back. A kiss to the top of your head is the last thing you feel before the gentle lull of breathing and the rise and fall of his chest begin to soothe you to sleep. 

…

Ah, marriage—what an interesting concept. Two people agreeing to sign a legal document and tethering their lives to each other for whatever reason, be it love, societal expectations, familial pressure, financial security, etc. 

You love your husband, and you’re beginning to think he loves you too. 

liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

taglist: @linospuddin @linocz @spicyhyunn

[chastiefoul]

regret | alhaitham

a/n: a very messy drabble based on some idea that popped into my head. basically about a y/n who's very in touch with their feelings vs alhaitham handling those feelings (to nobody's surprise, it didn't end well)

tags: angstyyy

part 2 here

1.5k words

to say that you get along with alhaitham would be a stretch.

anyone would agree that your interactions consisted only of you always pestering him and alhaitham barely tolerating it. this causes amusement but also worries, you both being the polar opposites and all.

the arrogant and cold scribe versus the bright and cheery you. there’s a line, a wall if you will; that made everyone wondered, how long would the strange dynamic last before something eventually went wrong.

and it finally did.

❀

hanging out with kaveh is something of a routine, with you studying the same subject; architecture. people were always naturally drawn to you, kaveh wasn’t the exception. you both get along with each other pretty quickly, and he’s been a close friends since. you even got to know alhaitham through him.

alhaitham said once, that you both were pretty similar albeit with different words—or to quote him as he spoke with such exasperation, “archons, now there are two of them.” still however alike, he quietly also thought there’s a key difference, a very apparent contrast that he couldn’t help but notice, even he didn’t try to.

you and kaveh both were very in touch with your emotions, meaning all of your actions often solely driven by feelings. although with kaveh he wasn’t ashamed of this, always stating clearly—or unnecessarily,  if something had upset him. but you on the other hand chose to hide that displeasure, masking it with an uncertain smile, one that’s clearly forced. as though wanting to halt any further argument. that somehow infuriated alhaitham.  

everyday you would always greet him without any care in the world. even though every conversation you had with alhaitham, somehow always turned into something he had to won, that he had to have the last word. he also couldn’t figure it out himself what got him so worked up every time he talked to you.

❀

“kaveh, don’t you think alhaitham is a nice person?” one a peaceful lunch you asked. he shot you a disgusted look, as if the question had offended him. “are you in your right mind?” he quickly retorted. “well despite him looking so fed up and all that, he still talk to us, doesn’t he?” you played your food with your fork. “... and that’s why he’s ‘nice’? dear god the bar is in hell—no it’s even below the devil’s foot itself.” he sighed, really couldn’t believing his ear. what got you so infatuated with him anyway? in all honesty kaveh was having a hard time remembering if there was ever a time where alhaitham was nice to you, he only recalled your cheery attitude getting shot down by alhaitham’s apathy every single time.

wait. he knew what this is.

“you like him.” kaveh suddenly said. you couldn’t turn your head to him any quicker. “what?” you panicked. “you heard me. now i just need to hear you admitting it.” there’s a playful smile on kaveh’s face, he’s teasing. “you won’t, cause i don’t.” you said, trying hard to be calm while eating your food. “mmhm,” kaveh hummed knowingly, an annoying smirk plastered on his face. “you know what? i don’t have to listen to this, i’m leaving.” you pouted, gathering your stuff. “yes, and you know what your in-denial self should listen to instead? me.”

“shut up!”

❀

“good morning, alhaitham!” you greeted him per usual with high energy. he hummed a reply, acknowledging your presence. when you just lingered there showing no sign of leaving he sighed. “how many times do i have to tell you my office is not a playground where you can hang around however you please?” he asked, preparing to sort out the documents from the fresh pile that just came. “i was just—nevermind that, do you need any help?” you asked with a smile. however the harmless question just tick something unpleasant inside of the scribe, he knew you meant well, truly he knew that. “do i look like someone who’s incapable of doing my own job?” he questioned in a cold tone.

“of course not! i just thought since i was a little free-“

“right. you thought, that never went well though, did it?” the viciousness was out of nowhere, you were caught off guard.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you narrowed your eyes at the harsh words—like he was saying that you were some kind of an idiot. he was always ill-tempered towards you, but he didn’t need to be this harsh over a mere offer to help.

alhaitham could feel he was being unreasonably mean, but he just couldn’t stand it. your useless kindness, your warmth, your concerns over his well-being all of these were so strange for him and his initial reaction was to reject and mock them. alhaitham felt like he was above it, it was too troublesome. he was fine living up to this point without the concerns from other people, and he was sure as hell he wasn’t going to start not being fine without it anytime soon.

 “why do you always think i need help? or do i need someone to remind me when to have my meal, or telling me to be conscious of my sleep schedule? frankly, it made me very uncomfortable,” once he started he felt like he couldn’t stop. alhaitham was mad, but if someone had asked him why he also wouldn’t be able to find the words to explain. he just was.

“well excuse me for trying to look out for my friend!” you raised your voice.

“friend? i never once thought of you that way,” he said. that shut you up real quick. the confession left your mouth agape, your chest ached. just what you are to him then, for the past half-year? but then when you think about it again, when has he exactly treat you as if you were something more of an acquaintance? in the end it was on you to assume, but it still hurts nonetheless.

in the brief silence alhaitham found the answer as to why was he so aggravated every time he talked to you.

alhaitham was blunt, he was ruthless in commenting on things that are out of place according to him. he was arrogant, often thinking that he’s above everything else, this include his way of life. a life of solitude; without the need of other people. but then you came, and his principles was shaken. alhaitham was a lot of things, but none would say that he’s fickle. yet, his rage right that second was a living proof that perhaps alhaitham was never the winner of those meaningless conversations he had with you. that truthfully, you already had him at the first good morning greeting you had given him with a bright smile.

and that is alhaitham’s hardest pill to swallow. you, a single person managed to make him almost change his entire life principles he had believed his whole life. and that’s as terrifying as it is infuriating to him. he couldn’t let you sway him more than this.

after what felt like eternity you finally responded.

“there’s a limit to being heartless, don’t you think?” you weakly said, you don’t even know what you were hoping for as a reply honestly. “there’s also should be a limit to your groundless assumptions.” he didn’t even look at you as he said these things, which perhaps good since you seriously couldn’t hold your tears anymore.

you had never believed rumors about people, as you will never know the truth unless you verify it yourself. but there, standing quietly as your tears wet the floor; there was no denying it anymore, alhaitham was indeed a heartless man who has zero empathy towards other living being.

“maybe i was wrong about you, alhaitham.” you smiled sadly.

it’s better this way.

“you were. now if you don’t mind, i have work to do.” he stated firmly, meaning: get out. which you will do gladly once you said your piece.

“it’ll do you good in the future to not be so driven by your emotions,” he still thought he was in a position to lecture you.

“yeah? and it’ll do you to good get off your high horse once in a damn while, you’re not fucking better than everybody else, alhaitham.”

“maybe so, but i certainly know i’m above acting solely over any emotion i’ve felt in the moment. i stopped doing that after i turned six, actually.” to think he'd mock you for crying.

“fuck you, alhaitham. enjoy your ‘alone’ time, i hope it stays that way forever.” you walked away from his office, swearing to yourself that it will be the last time you set foot on that damn place. alhaitham rarely see you frown, and to see you that angry and he was the cause of it.. silence got the better of him, the insides of his chest was swirling, he wasn't sure what to feel.

when your footsteps was finally out of hearing, alhaitham brought his palm to his face, his emotions getting the better of him. he saw the the hurt in your face, it was beyond saving. there’s nothing he could possibly say or do to get you to forgive him. and that was his intention of course, to get you to hate him. but he never thought he’d be ready for that.

alhaitham days quickly returned to the monotous routine. a quiet cycle, he thought he loved that. it's easy to realize that he did not anymore.

he's already so used to you. he kept waiting for you every morning, maybe if he wished hard enough you’d forget everything and just came back like nothing happened. but those days didn’t come, the memory quickly turns into anguish but more than that, regret.

aside from his ego, perhaps this regret is also something he would take to his grave.

-

part 2 maybe??

[zayne-li]

Heartbreaker Attacks!

Rating: Explicit

Length: 2.8k words

Here it is. The sex pollen fic. I forget who posted about this, but whoever it was, here you go.

I’m currently in the middle of the woods when I get a notification on my hunters watch that there is a wanderer attack nearby. I follow the coordinates through the underbrush, ducking under branches and avoiding rocks, and when I emerge, I’m in… Zayne’s backyard?

Well, sort of, the entire thing is enclosed in a high fence, but the location ping on my watch tells me that the wanderer is still ahead of me. I don't actually know if he’s home right now, but the fact that as I walk around the perimeter, it seems to be pinging from inside gets me worried fast. From inside, I can definitely hear some kind of commotion going on. But why would Heartbreaker attack a house randomly like this…? No, it wouldn’t just show up to destroy property, I decide, Zayne must be inside. At that moment I hear the distinct and familiar sound of Zayne’s ice spikes crackling and lodging themselves in something, possibly the wall. Luckily, only a few weeks ago, Zayne gave me the code to his front door, deciding it was “only fair” because I’d given him my apartment key. You know, just in case of “emergencies”. No other reason.

This is the first time I’ve used it though, and for a moment I’m not sure I can remember it. Was it 4102? No… 4210? No… Shit! 0412? Yes! The lock on the door blinks green and I push it open before pausing for a second, realizing something I hadn’t before. 

0412? That’s… My birthday.

I blink and shake my head a little. Not important right now! 

The sounds are coming from the living room, up ahead, and I think I even catch a glimpse of the little pink and purple wanderer. I can definitely hear it screeching, then from through the doorway, I see another ice spike whiz past. Heartbreaker cries, there’s the sound of something breaking, and then a heaving gasp that sounds distinctly like Zayne, before a series of hacking coughs.

When I skid to a stop in the room, Heartbreaker is gone, and with a brief glance at my watch, I see that the metaflux has dissipated. Which means that Zayne took it down. At least for now. Another glance around the room, and Zayne is leaning against an armchair with one hand, while his elbow covers his mouth. He’s still coughing. 

“Are you okay?!” I ask, trying not to sound panicked as he doubles over, now holding himself up by his elbow on the armchair. In just a few long strides, I’m at his side, hands hovering over his back, trying to assess what might be wrong. The first thing I notice is that he’s breathing hard and he’s flushed, though maybe that’s just the exertion from fighting. What I expect to see is maybe a bit of frost on his fingertips or creeping up his neck, but instead, when I place my hand tentatively on the small of his back, I realize he’s burning up. Also… The moment my fingers make contact with his body, he moans. I jerk back almost on instinct, my brow furrowing in confusion. Is he injured there? Zayne rolls his head to the side, and I can see better how he looks, red and panting. “I’m,” cough, “fine… You certainly acted quickly.”

He doesn’t look fine. His pupils are blown, and he has a hazy look in his eyes. My concern grows. I blink at him. “Did you just…”

He looks away, blushing brighter, “... Yes, I believe so.”

“I think you should sit down.” I touch his shoulder and arm to guide him, trying to get him to walk around the chair to sit down, but that touch too has a shiver going through his whole body before he tenses up, though he doesn’t try to stop me from guiding him into the seat. “Are you in pain?”

“No, I… No, not pain.” He gets out after a second, his expression pinched, almost frustrated, and he seems to be trying to avoid looking at me, keeping his gaze settled firmly on the ground and away from me as he clasps both hands in his lap. Maybe I’m imagining things, but I think I can see a bulge in his pants where his legs press together. “Let me get you some water.” “Yes… Water.” He’s distracted. When I return with a glass of water, his condition has already deteriorated drastically. He’s almost panting, one hand gripping the arm of the couch, the other in a fist on his thigh. He’s burning up when I get close, and he seems to have attempted to adjust himself in his pants in my absence. I feel a brief flash of anger go through me, just knowing that he’s in a state like this, and he’s arrogant enough to think he can get away without me noticing. I set the glass down, concerned, and drop to my knees in front of him, taking a hold of the hand on his leg. His eyes drift closed, and he moans softly. My voice is quiet, but firm. “Zayne, what did it attack you with?”

His face pinches more, and he swallows. “An aphrodisiac of some kind, I would assume, based on my symptoms. You… You should go. I’ll be fine. It’ll wear off.” “You’re an idiot if you think I’m just going to leave you here. Do you have any idea what will happen to you if this is left to work its way through your system?” He does. He’s seen patients exhibiting these same symptoms before, on rare occasions. In a hospital setting, there’s not much to do for them except keep their body temperature down and make sure they’re hydrated. From what he’s seen, detoxifying this particular poison is excruciatingly painful, regardless of the drug they're given to ease it. He should drink that water. “Yes.”

“Well so do I, so no, you’re not going to make me go anywhere right now.” I lean over him, hands on his thighs, and he suddenly looks up into my eyes, so needy, and whimpers. “You’d do the same thing if I was in your position, right?”

After a second, a short nod, though it looks like it pains him. “I would.”

“Then stop being a hypocrite.”

His eyes get a little wider as he looks up at me, “But what if I can’t co–”

“Don’t start that again.” I shoot him a look, and sigh at the worry on his face. My hand strokes his cheek and hair for a second, and it seems that’s all he really needs as he deflates a little, leaning into my palm and letting out a soft little grunt from the back of his throat.

I reach forward between his legs, and they seem to part for me almost instinctively. When my hands cups him through his trousers, his head falls back, and his hips rise up to meet me. The sound he makes as I squeeze down on him is a soft, high pitched moan. He’s still gripping the armrest with one hand, and I swear his knuckles are turning white already.

“Please… I need…” Already Zayne sounds a little wrecked, his voice low and desperate. The heat of his cock is heavy in my hand, and I squeeze down a little harder one more time, pulling another groan from him before I let go. “I know what you need.” I reassure him, and start to work on my clothes. My hunter’s uniform is a little complicated to get off, but the good news is that I’ve had a lot of practice. First the belts, then vest, boots, and in only a few seconds I’m shucking off the tight pants, leaving me only in my white button down. When I look up, I realize that Zayne has been drinking in the sight of me undressing the entire time, and one of his hands has now taken place of my own, where he seems to be gripping himself pretty damn tightly, enough that the veins and tendons on his hand have become more prominent than usual. 

As I take a step closer to him, he reaches out, grabbing hold of me to touch me everywhere, and all pretense is lost to him. Squeezing at my ass, my hips, my thighs, everywhere he can reach until he has a strong enough grip to rut me against him. His head falls onto my shoulder, and he’s whining, wordless. I let him do that for a minute or two, locked against him in his strong arms while his hips move beneath me, and then I grab his arm to make him stop. Even though he could easily overpower me, he ceases desperately grinding himself on me, and looks up with wide eyes, blown out by his lust, like a puppy begging for food. Or maybe like he’s afraid he’s done something wrong, and is about to receive a scolding. I brace one arm on his chest, and with the other move back on his lap. He watches, rapt as I undo his pants and pull out his cock. It’s already leaking, red, and throbbing in my grip.

The first touch has him swearing quietly, hips moving into my hand. I squeeze down on the tip as I stroke upwards, and he lets out a broken sound, his body arching for a second. So I do it again, and again, watching him as his head rolls to the side, and he seems incapable of closing his mouth.

“Too hot…” He chokes out. And he is sweating, almost through his shirt already. Were he alone, I think, this is the point by now where he would have attempted to get himself into a cold shower. 

“Let me help you then.”

I start undressing him, and it seems like every brush against him, clothed or not has him reacting, letting out little whines and moans, and he’s almost trembling with the effort to contain himself. Sometimes it even sounds like he’s trying to speak, but every plea comes out half formed. I offer encouragement to him until he’s completely bare, and help him stand so I can lay him down on the couch. I press my full weight on top of him. He’s about to lose his mind, his neck and back arching underneath me, hands tight on my waist. 

“Hey,” I murmur against his throat, and he moans. He’s so hard that I can feel a wet sticky mess starting to form between us, “you still with me?” I ask him, against his lips, barely brushing against them with my own. Zayne just groans and captures my mouth in a bruising kiss, letting go of my hips to hold me by the back of neck to him. His tongue probes at my bottom lip, and he’s moaning so softly and so desperately that I feel a surge of heat between my legs. I open my mouth to him, and he moans louder, his tongue invading me the moment he’s given permission, licking into my mouth, like he’s trying to taste and memorize every part of it. 

When he finally lets me go, he’s gasping, and his lips are now swollen, pink, and shiny with our shared spit. 

It’s frankly, an amazing look on him. 

“I’m here…” He pants, his voice hoarse as his dazed expression meets mine. I’ve never seen him like this before, it’s like he’s almost drunk on sex, and we haven’t even had it yet. “Just… Need you… Please…” Zayne begs, quiet and small, and he speaks slowly, like he’s unsure how to properly voice his own desires. For just a second, I’m overwhelmed by just how… cute he is. It’s my turn to swear under my breath, and I can’t help pulling him into another kiss, which he accepts gratefully. 

I reach my hand between us, rising up on my hips and scooting forward to position myself over him. When I grab his cock he seems to finally realize what I’m doing, and for a second I’m worried he’s forgotten how to breathe, with the way he suddenly goes almost entirely still. His erection is slick already, and I use the mess of cum he’s made on himself to stroke him a few times, until his cock is coated in his own seed. Zayne’s head arches back against the cushion of the couch, and the leg he has braced on the floor moves inwards, jostling me a little as I press the tip of his cock against me. I rub it against me a few times, looking down at the debauched mess of himself that Zayne has already become, and fuck if I don’t feel myself almost gush between my legs. 

“Please don’t tease me.” He sounds almost broken, begging as he tries to arch up into my cunt, whining when I place a hand on his hip to keep him still.

“I’m not, I promise.” I try to reassure him by rubbing my thumb against his skin, where I’ve braced myself on his chest. Then, I get his cock to catch on the rim of my entrance, and sink down all in one go. It nearly takes the breath out of my lungs, the sudden fullness and heat of him inside me, and I let out a few soft gasps. 

“Oh, fuck…” Zayne whimpers beneath me, his voice high and thready. His hands twitch for a fraction of a second, and then he grabs at my waist, like he needs something to just ground him. I start to move, slowly at first, and watch his face screw up almost like he’s in pain, but I think really he’s just trying to stay still. My breath comes out heavier as I brace both hands on his chest and move on him faster, rolling my hips atop his own.

And God, it feels so good that I start to get lost in it myself a little, chasing my own pleasure with his cock, and when I look down at him I see him watching me, his mouth open, and he’s making the cutest little sounds with every movement, growing faster with each passing moment, and then I see it. I don’t stop riding him while I watch his back arch, his eyes close, and his body start to twitch and tremble while I feel him pulsing inside of me. He’s almost silent during his orgasm, only gasping softly, as if he doesn’t have the breath to make another sound.

I don’t cum yet, but I can feel myself clenching down around him at the sight of him coming undone. His hair is messy, his cheeks and ears bright red, and his chest is heaving underneath my palms. He looks completely fucked out, boneless, and like he’s barely aware of his surroundings. 

My hips keep grinding down onto his cock that hasn’t started to soften yet, and I try to angle myself so that I can fuck down almost onto his public bone, because I know if I can get my clit just a little bit of– “Oh god!” I choke out, and start to ride him hard and fast as I feel my orgasm start to wash over me, and I feel how wet it’s getting between us, the squelch getting louder and louder while I work my way through it. 

In the haze, I dimly become aware of Zayne’s hands now taking a bruising grip on my hips, and the pained groans and whines that start to come from him while I use his overstimulated cock. “Oh fuck, oh, mmm, wait, I can’t–” He starts to protest, but during the fall of my orgasm, I feel him start to cum again, in a matter of seconds. This time he is not so quiet. Instead he keens, and inside of me his cock jumps wildly, spurting into me over and over, and as Zayne gasps and shudders through it, for a second I think both of us are wondering if it’ll ever end. 

As it ebbs away, he makes a little sobbing sound, and while I catch my own breath, I feel that he’s still holding tight to my hips. I lean heavily over him, tightening around his cock a few times as I feel it start to soften inside of me, and hear Zayne’s small, almost pained grunt. There’s a long silence, neither of us speaking or looking at each other until I feel his cock slip out of me, flopping back down between his own legs, and then I raise up to look at him. I wonder if I look as disheveled as he does. Not that it matters, because he’s looking up at me and his eyes are almost sparkling. I clear my throat, “Better?”

Zayne huffs a chuckle, and instead looks at his hands as they start to move up and down my thighs, his voice still hoarse, “Yes, much… But I’m afraid I might need a follow up appointment, doctor.”

I roll my eyes, and crawl back over him to steal another short kiss. I don’t miss the way he tries to follow my lips for a second. “Well, then I guess we’ll just have to schedule one.”

[aauroraxia]

Supposed To Be

Armando Aretas

This story is based off of a song called Begin Again by Taylor Swift ^^. For a better experience I highly recommend you listen to the song 🎧!

Sypnosis: Y/N just got out of a toxic relationship with ex named Greg. She finally decided to start dating again. On her first date with her new boyfriend, Armando she has many flashbacks of her past relationship. Armando shows her how love is supposed to be, and not all love is toxic.

Warnings: None

I took a deep breath in the mirror, doing a little twirl. I looked perfect, my tight red dress, hugged my curves. My curly hair curled perfectly around my face. My black high heels made me a little taller than I actually was, but I don’t care, I think I look perfect and I hope he thinks the same.

I was finally dating again. After breaking up with Greg, I was scared of dating. Until I met Armando. He told me that he didn’t know my ex or what he did for us to break up, but, that he was nothing like him, he’s one of a kind.

One of my friends had offered to take me to the restaurant I walked out of my house grabbing my phone, purse, and keys, and walked to the car. As I sat in the passenger seat I started thinking.. ‘Remember what happened last time you went on a date’

Flash Back Start 𖣔

I arrived to the cafe that Greg asked me to meet him at. I looked in the mirror in my car, fixing my hair. I wanted everything to be perfect.

I walked inside the cafe, glancing around looking for Greg. He was nowhere to be found. I started panicking, thoughts flooded my mind.

‘He couldn’t be standing me up’

‘He wouldnt’

‘Would he?’

The waiter sat me at a table. I caught a few weird glances from other couples. I pulled my phone out of my purse, checking the time constantly, and maybe to see if Greg texted. After about 25 minutes, he hadn’t called or texted.

Tears flooded my eyes. I put my phone away and gathered my things. It’s time to go home.

As soon as I stood up I heard the cafe bell ring. I turned around to see Greg walking in the shop. His brown hair, messy. He had on a blue button up shirt that wasn’t even buttoned completely.

Had he even tried to look nice? Was this “date” really not that important? I balled my fist up, sitting back down in my seat, waiting for him to walk over.

He sat in front of me in silence. No ‘Hey, I’m sorry for being late.’ No stupid excuse. Just silence.

Flash Back Ends 𖣔

I shoved that memory deep down in my mind, or at least I tried. I started my car and drove to restaurant I was meeting Armando at.

I walked in the restaurant, hoping Armando was already here. And he was. He waved me over to the table he was sitting at. Walking over to him, he looked at me with a small but genuine smile. He stood up and pulled out my chair for me.

That was so nice! I sat down across from him, locking eyes with him. He wouldn’t take his eyes off of me.

Flash Back Start 𖣔

The rest of the date went pretty well. Greg told me this lame excuse of how he couldn’t get a stain out of shirt, that’s why he was late. He asked me how was my day and after I answered him he explained how his day went.

While explaining my day I made a small joke. I guess he didn’t think I was funny because he just stared at me, with a blank unreadable expression on his face.

Embarrassing…

I quickly changed the topic to work, to avoid any further embarrassment.

“Hey, I think you look really pretty tonight, but um I’m not that much taller than you and you wearing heels makes you taller than me.. I don’t like the look so if we’re supposed to be together could you stop wearing heels?”

The audacity..

It’s not my fault that he’s shorter than Peter Pan. But this date already started rocky so I just smiled and nodded.

Flash Back Ends 𖣔

“Te ves hermosa. Ese vestido y esos tacones te hacen ver muy sexy.” Armando said.

I smiled at his sweetness. I knew he wasn’t much of a talker but he was putting in a effort to talk, and that’s all I needed.

“How are you?” He asked

“Good, what about you. Apart from being hunted from the police.” I joked

He leaned his head back, laughing. Last time I told a small joke I was hella embarrassed. But that wasn’t the case this time, thankfully.

Soon, a waiter came and took our order, we ate and talked about any and everything. He even payed for both of our meals. Damn, he couldn’t be any more perfect.

He offered to take me home and I agreed. “Any specific song you want to listen to?”

I started thinking.. “Can you play ‘Fuck It I Love You’ by Lana Del Rey.

“Yeah”

Flash Back Start 𖣔

When Greg invited me to his apartment, on the way there I asked him to play that same song. “What does the song even mean. It’s boring and sad. How about something else.”

I looked at him in utter disbelief. Did he really not understand the meaning? Once again I just smiled and nodded.

Flash Back End 𖣔

“Sorry if you don’t like this song.” I said “I know it’s supposedly sad.”

“Nah, it’s not sad. It’s real.” He assured me.

Oh my gosh I think I love him.

Once arriving at my house Armando walked me to my front door. Like he was protecting me.

I loved that. It made me feel like I would never have to worry about my safety with him.

“Como te dije antes, no conozco a tu ex ni lo que hizo para que rompieras con él, pero nunca te lastimaré amor.”

I smiled, placing both of my hands on his shoulders, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. Once I pulled away, he softly cuffed my cheeks, pulling me into a passionate but loving kiss.

“Sure you don’t wanna come in?” I asked him with a playful smirk.

“Quizás lo haga” He said with a smirk, locking his car, and following me inside.

I don’t know how far this “relationship” with Armando would go but, I do know this is how love is supposed to be.

Translations:

“Quizás lo haga” - Maybe I will

“Como te dije antes, no conozco a tu ex ni lo que hizo para que rompieras con él, pero nunca te lastimaré amor.” - Like I told you before, I don't know your ex or what he did to make you break up with him, but I will never hurt you, love.

“Te ves hermosa. Ese vestido y esos tacones te hacen ver muy sexy.” - You look beautiful. That dress and those heels make you look very sexy.

[jrswritings]

Tingles and Giggles - Chapter Six - Tyler Owens x Reader

Get caught up with Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, and Chapter Five! Masterlist :)

Chapter Six - Storm Chasin' Duo

On your way back to the truck, Tyler walked into the visitor center building after giving you the truck keys. You gave him a small smile and walked over to Ol Red, it being the only vehicle in the parking lot. Unlocking the door, you slid into the passenger side and put the keys into the cup holder. You couldn’t tell if it was anxiety or pure happiness building in your chest, but you needed it to chill before your heart jumped out of your chest. 

You never were the one to be asked out in high school or talk to guys much as you were usually studying weather patterns, your first boyfriend was after graduation and only happened after a drunken mistake of a one-night stand. It didn’t last long, maybe four to five months, you chose not to remember. After that guy, it was Derek, who you were with for five years, resulting in him cheating on you. Sure, you flirted occasionally at bars while sipping on a drink, but never had a guy ask you to start dating. 

In a panic, you told Tyler that you would like to hold off and see if you would continue to storm chase if your team split. While sitting there, your emotions turned from anxiety to anger. You were angry at yourself for telling the perfect guy for you no. It came to be such an overwhelming feeling you smashed your balled-up fist onto the armrest, not paying attention to where you hit. You heard three beeps and then a woosh sound, followed by a loud bang and then crackling. 

You looked out the window of the truck to see remnants of a firework floating away in the wind, then looked back at your hand on the button labeled ‘color boom 4.’ As if the last ten minutes couldn’t get any worse, you looked over to the visitor center to see Tyler with his hands on his hips and shaking his head with a grin. 

You buried your face into your hands and silently screamed. As you heard Tyler get closer you pulled your hands away and took a few deep breaths. 

“You gettin’ used to the controls, passenger princess?” He asked, leaning in your window. 

“U-Uh,” you stammered, that was not the response you expected. 

“Don’t worry, they’re cheap little ten-dollar fireworks,” he said with a smile, gesturing to the pipes containing the actual firework stick. 

You stayed silent, hoping the embarrassment would fade and it would be like it was on the drive here. 

“Darlin’,” he said, putting his finger under your chin and pulling your face towards him, “What’s wrong?” 

Did he actually notice that you weren’t okay? Were you making it that obvious? You reminded yourself to work on getting better at hiding your emotions. 

Your lack of response made Tyler worry even more than he already was. He opened the door and leaned his hip against your seat. 

“Don’t think I’m heartbroken or that I’m going to spread that you told me no,” he said, putting his hand on your cheek softly and wiping away the tear you didn’t know you cried. 

“I-I,” you started to say but was cut off by tears falling, your chin dropping to your chest. Why did you feel so bad about telling someone no? 

“Oh honey,” he said, pulling you to his chest, “Don’t be upset, I’m still going to chase after you until you say yes or push me into a tornado.” 

This made you chuckle through your tears, pulling your head off his chest and wiping your tears. 

“Because believe me, I’m not quittin’ on you,” he said softly, giving you the classic Tyler Owens smile, “I’m just gettin’ started.” 

You took a couple of deep breaths, trying to compose yourself to tell him what you meant to say out on the bench. 

“But that isn’t what I meant to say, T-Ty,” you said, taking another deep breath, “I-I honestly panicked.” 

“It’s just me, darlin’,” he said, rubbing your arms.

“That’s the problem,” you said, his eyebrows going up, “I don’t want to say anything wrong or get hurt or ruin what we already have.”

He chuckled slightly and pressed his lips to your forehead. “I understand, how do you think I’ve felt the last few years?” 

“But you’re a smooth talker and I’m just a girl who stares at clouds,” you sighed, resting your head on his shoulder. Why would someone as amazing as Tyler want to be with someone who could sit and watch clouds all day? 

“And I’m a boy who stares at clouds,” he said softly, “Hell, sometimes I think they actually talk to me.” 

“At least I’m not the only one,” you said, smiling slightly and wiping the stray tears from your cheeks. 

“Why don’t we do this,” he said, lifting your chin, “We can go on a few more of these to make sure the connection is there 100 percent, and then after that, we can decide to give what we got a true chance to take flight.” 

“I like the sound of that,” you said quietly, looking into his soft eyes. 

“I’m in no rush for you,” he said, leaning down to put his forehead on yours, “You’re the one I want.” 

Hearing him say that sent tingles down your spine, so much so that your back stiffened to brush your lips against his. Again, in panic, you pulled away with your face turning a bright red. 

“Are you hungry?” He asked, rubbing soft circles on your arm, “I know a nice place up the road we could grab a bite before we head back to Prairie Winds…” 

“I’d like that,” you said, adjusting yourself in your seat and trying not to press any more buttons or switches. 

He gently closed your door then walked to his side of the truck and took his red flannel off, tossing it in the back seat. 

“Sometimes the midday heat doesn’t get to me, but damn, today it’s HOT!” He said, putting his hat on the dash and hopping into the driver’s seat. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t take it off earlier,” you said, fanning yourself with a map you found shoved between the seats. 

“I had better things to worry about than my comfort, okay?” He said, patting his pockets, “Keys?” 

“Cup holder,” you said, buckling your seatbelt and leaning back. 

“Right,” he said, grabbing them and starting the truck effortlessly. 

“Has any of your team tried to reach you again?” He asked, glancing at his phone where Boone and Ben had texted him. 

You pulled your phone out of your pocket, looking at your notifications. There was a group text between you, Jade, and Tristan with Jade sending the message. Your heart dropped as you already knew what the text was about. 

‘Hey (Y/n), we hate to do this while you’re out with that crazy guy from the wranglers, but Tristan and I have decided it’s our time to part ways with the Storm Riders. It’s been a fun journey and we wish you and the rest of the team luck with the season next year. Hope we can still be in contact and remain friends. J&T’ 

You sighed loudly, seeing there was a voicemail from Willow. Could this get worse? 

“Hey (Y/n/n), it’s Willy,” Willow said, “I hate to do this as I know Jade texted you earlier about their departure from the team, but I was offered a modeling gig while at the local mall. It was all crazy, but a marketing rep from Sephora was at the store and actually recognized me from when I sent my portfolio in. You know I love you and I love the chase, but I need to focus on my dreams. I won’t be returning next year to Storm Riders… Let me know if you want to talk about this more…”

You turned your screen off and tossed your phone in the backseat next to his shirt and the flowers, sinking into your seat. 

“Hey, why the sudden sulking?” He asked, starting to back out of the parking spot. 

“You know how earlier I mentioned that I had a gut feeling this would be the last year of chasing for Storm Riders?” You asked, rubbing both your temples as this wasn’t what you wanted to deal with today, or really ever as it was your dream to have your own successful chasing team.

“Ye- oh no,” he said, “Really? Not even in person?” 

“Not even in person,” you sighed, “Willow I can understand as she hates being confrontational in this type of sense in person, no matter who the person is, but then Jade thinks we’ll still be good friends when they don’t even respect me enough to talk in person?” 

“You’ll still be friends, I know you don’t throw friendships away that easily,” he said, turning onto the main road, “But it was disrespectful for them not to say anything in person.” 

“Well, looks like I get to talk to Asher and Finn tonight or tomorrow,” you sighed. 

“I’m serious about what I said earlier, honey,” he said, reaching over and grabbing your hand gently. 

“Which is what?” You said, looking over at him, “You’ve said a lot of things today and it’s only 1:27 in the afternoon.” 

“That you and those boys are welcome to join the Wranglers,” he said, squeezing your hand, “I think we’d make a good storm chasin’ duo.”

Want more? Here's Chapter Seven!

[weirdsht]

LOL HI I HAVE A THOUGHT AGAINNN HEHEHE

Cale and the gang with someone who's a mermaid? They're scared shitless because of the insanity their fellow merfolk are expressing towards creatures that haven't done them anything too big. They can be transmigrated or just simply too self aware of what kind of people they are going to face if they keep meddling with other creatures' affairs with no reasonable explanation.

I love mermaids lol 😞

It can be platonic or romantic. I LOVE HOW YOU WRITE 🔥🔥🔥

Out of Their Minds - LoTCF & Mermaid! Reader

notes: thank you for enjoying my fics! I wrote something more lighthearted this time because I'm realised I kept writing angst. Low-key wanna do a pt.2 of this ngl. Also I know betta fishes live in shallow water but they are the most magnificent fish I have laid my eyes on so I wanted to use them

tags: mermaid reader, male reader (it wasn't planned, i was addressing to reader as a man before I could realise it lol), set after cale heals paseton, paseton/reader if you squint, i made a bunch of bullshit information about mermaids since there isn't much known about them anyways

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

Buy Me Dessert

Navigation Masterlist Out of My Mind (pt. 2)

Sigh 

“This is what you get for working with shady people…”

You stare at the three mermaid corpses on top of a big rock. It was the middle of the night making the sight more eery. It makes you nauseous. Especially as you notice how one of them is armless.

However, you didn’t pity them.

“Serves you right to be honest.”

You whispered in the corpse’s ear as you sat on top of the boulder. Your mermaid tail swaying against a part of the rock that has no mermaid on it.

“How did you lose your arm though? Did you anger the Whale Tribe so much that they took your arm as a souvenir?”

Looking at the sea you wondered who killed them.

“Maybe it was that ruffian called Archie? But I heard rumours from the fishes that the Whale King will beat him to a pulp if he goes too far.”

Humming in disbelief, you continued talking to the corpse as though they were still alive.

“Hmm, but you guys crossed the line first so I guess doing this much to your bodies is nothing.”

You started thinking about what happened to the mermaid tribe as of late. Some shady organizations came and made a deal with them. You didn’t know much but you heard the organization called Arm was asking for a sea route.

“Wait, it’s kind of ironic, isn’t it? You’re working for something called Arm and you lost your arm when you died.” 

With your index finger pointing out, you tried to poke the cheek of the armless mermaid. But alas you couldn’t do it. Too disgusted at their mummified looks.

“Eww, you all look so gross. Why am I even sitting on top of you all? I’m gonna go back now before that weirdo magic spearman who keeps calling himself my hyung looks for me.”

Grimacing at the thought of the guy who insisted you’re his family now, you tried to get off the boulder you were sitting on. You may be an orphan, but you aren’t desperate to acquire new family members.

Shaaaa

As you try to climb down, you hear a soft splashing sound from behind. It sounds like water being manifested out of thin air.

Wait… Water out of thin air?

That could only mean the Whale Tribe. Not just ordinary ones, but one of the Shickler’s children.

Panicking, you tried to turn around while climbing down. Which only resulted in you falling off the boulder and landing hard on your butt.

“Wait wait wait! Is that a sword? Oh my god, it’s Paseton. Wait no should I call you his highness Paseton?”

Teary eyes and mouth spouting a bunch of nonsense because of panic made the half-blood whale stop in his tracks. Usually, when he encounters a mermaid they would spare no time attacking him.

“Are you about to discard those bodies in the water?”

“What? No way! If I did that those weird people would find me sooner.”

“Weird… People?”

Paseton lowered his sword and you relaxed a little. You wiped your tears with the back of your hand before addressing the whale’s confusion.

“Yeah! You should know about it already. I heard the turtles talking about how the mermaids are haunting you because you found out they were working with humans! Oh, but you don’t seem hurt, good for you!”

You gave him a thumbs-up as if you weren’t on the verge of crying because you fell earlier.

The half-blood whale finds you weird. It looks like you have no intentions of hurting him. In fact, it looks like you’re supporting him?

“...You’re that rumoured eccentric mermaid. Son of the previous mermaid leader.”

“No need to make it sound good. I know the rumours actually call me crazy and not eccentric. But yes that’s me, the crazy orphan whose parents got assassinated by mermaids. They're the real lunatics if you ask me.”

Paseton hesitantly shook the hand you offered.

“But why are you here? I heard you’ve gone missing and the mermaid tribe are worried sick looking everywhere for you?”

“You’re one to talk, I heard your sister is going crazy looking for you too.”

Letting go of his hand, you began to explain what happened.

“You already know about it but the merpeople are getting help from above ground. That was also why they assassinated my mother, the previous mermaid leader. She wanted to straighten out the relationship between our tribe and yours. She also initially refused the offer that the humans made. Look where that got her.“

Because of that you became wanted by the merpeople too. They framed it as looking for the lost heir but what they really want is to capture you to exploit your abilities.

As thanks for not killing you, you explained your special abilities to Paseton. Your poison is three times stronger than normal mermaids. You also possess the ability to heal any poison that comes from water and it’s creatures in it. Another special ability of yours is transforming into a fish. A secret ability that only the direct blood of the true mermaid leader can possess.

“My poison is strong enough to do this.”

Stretching your arms, you demonstrated your poison to Paseton by letting it out on the mermaid beside you. This rendered the already armless mermaid tailless.

“The sight is disgusting each time. Not pretty at all.”

You gag as you watch the mermaid’s tail turn into green goo before it sizzles, leaving no trace behind.

“So what do you think? I was planning on leaving these bodies but I can get rid of them for you. In exchange, you’ll let me be on my merry way.” 

Paseton nodded and you took that as a cue to start disintegrating the corpses with your poison.

“Where do plan to go now?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. The mermaids have gone crazy, I’m too scared to even look at them. Both the whales and the whale tribe won’t leave me alone if they see me because they’ll think I’m one of those lunatics. Maybe I’ll forever transform into a fish and create a fantasy nation and call it Lemuria or something.”

You said it in a joking manner but Paseton can see the fear in your eyes as you talk about the merpeople. At that moment the whale tribe prince pitied you. You have essentially become an outsider with nowhere to run to.

He was about to make an offer when a water whip struck beside you.

“See? That’s what I’m talking about, now a water whip is out to kill me. Wait waterwhip? Witira?!” 

You desperately looked at the man in front of you.

“Hey, I helped you get rid of the bodies right? You said you’ll let me go right? So please explain to your sister I didn’t do anything.”

“What are you doing to my brother?!”

Witira’s angry voice from behind made you look at his brother more desperately. Paseton nodded as he walked towards his sister.

“Noona stop, he doesn’t mean any harm. We were just having a chat.”

“With a mermaid?”

Paseton begins explaining what happened to Witira. From how he gets help from a noble to you helping him get rid of the mermaids. He also explained how you’re on the run from the mermaids and the people working with them.

As Paeston speaks you tried to use their distracted state as an opportunity to go back to the sea.

Keyword being “try”.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You feel the humpback whale half-blood scoop your fish form from the shore. 

“A betta fish huh? You’re quite pretty.”

Good thing you’re a fish so the siblings wouldn’t be able to see you blush. Your fins did shine a little brighter though. Light blue with a red and white undertone that makes you look purple glistened under the moonlight. 

But there’s no way they’ll know that’s how you show being flustered in fish form so it’s good.

“What do you want with me? I already did my end of the deal~”

You whined and flopped around Paseton’s hands, throwing a tantrum. The man only chuckled while his sister watched in amusement.

“Yes, yes. But I want to make another deal.”

That made you stop flailing around.

“Turn back first. The water in my hands is running out, you already splashed most of it out.”

Obeying, you transformed back into your mermaid form. You expected Paseton to put you down then. However, he didn’t and decided to carry your bridal style instead.

He may be the weakest of the whale tribe but his still stronger than most humans.

“So what do you want?”

You crossed your arms, pouting because you lost your chance to make a getaway.

“Well, I was thinking of taking you back with us. You have nowhere to go right? You can just live with us.”

Both you and Witira looked at him quizzically. 

“What’s in it for you?”

“We’ll use your abilities when fighting the mermaids. You also have an information network that consists of sea creatures right? We’ll use that too.”

“Those are my friends, not a measly information network thank you very much. Also, didn’t you hear what I said earlier? I’m scared of mermaids now. I can’t even look at them.”

“Who says you have to look at them?”

You questioned what Paseton was saying. Meanwhile, Witira observes his brother. She agrees with his plan. After hearing what happened to you and your abilities, she knows you’ll be a useful card.

However, she knows her brother. And she knows that the way he's looking at you means more than what his entailing. He also seems confident that he’ll get you to go home with them before the sun rises.

Hmm, maybe that’s her fault for spoiling him too much…

“You don’t have to face them yourself. You don’t even have to leave the Whale Tribe village if you want. You’ll just have to use your abilities from far away and help us defeat the mermaid tribe.”

“...”

You mulled about it for a few seconds. It’s not like you have anything else to lose as you already lost everything. It is also true that you have nowhere to go. Your sea creature friends can only hide you for so long before you have to run away again. It also doesn’t seem like the humpback whale is lying.

Plus Paseton is pretty cute.

Wait what?

“So I don’t have to face them?”

“No.”

“Will I have my own house?”

“Hmm, not yet but I have a house that’s separate from our family residence. You can live there with me”

“Not bad… You promise I won’t meet them right? Including those crazy people that keep calling themself my new family.”

“I promise.”

“Can you buy me a large fish tank that’s installed in my house?”

“Making demands already? I’ll have a custom-made fish tank and pool, just for you.”

“Okay, deal!”

You raised your arms in celebration, already thinking just how beneficial this whole ordeal was for you. You’ll just have to provide them with your assistance that’s being used for the greater good and you’ll be spoiled as a compensation? Sweet.

Witira only shook her head at your conversation. She could already tell she had a lot to explain to her father once the three of you go home.

Oh well, as long as her brother is happy.

[angelfoxx]

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° “COULD I…HELP YOU?”

… in which the genshin hybrids maybe, possibly let you help with their heats/ruts

FEATURING: gorou, tighnari, & yae miko.

WARNINGS: afab reader; do you consider eating yae out at the shrine sacrilege because if so then uh. um. scratches my neck awkwardly

NOTE/S: hey! i’m new and i eat requests UP. if u enjoy my work, pls leave a request and i’ll see if i can do it!

— GOROU

✧ He tries not to mention it to you. Key word; tries. More often than not he’s dealt with his…biological problems…during combat, and when you are leading an entire rebellion, getting off probably isn’t your top concern. Is it annoying? Yes. Does it make him irritable and short-tempered and want to commit violent crimes against the nation? Also yes. He goes absolutely apeshit insane during the worst of his cycle and chances are if you happen to be on the front lines with him you’ll see him lose his goddamn mind because while he may be a very high-ranking general he is also a bitch to the biological system and, archons, the frustration he has to otherwise ignore gets fueled into his job. he commits war crimes against the state

✧ That is, of course, until you. You are now a new factor in his life and considering that you’re not only fighting beside him but also more often than not sleeping over in his tent, bringing him food after he returns to camp, or doing who-knows-what-else, you’re bound to find out one way or another. His leading fear is that you’ll have a rather rude awakening to his issue after arriving at his tent a little too late and finding him trying to sleep, trying, because he doesn’t get much of that anymore between war and also hormones, but he’s afraid you’ll be a little too late and instead of him sleeping you’ll find him halfway curled over himself with his tortured dick slick in his hands and fierce red bleeding over his face as he tries to sate the carnal urge seething in his loins.

✧ He eventually tells you, sort of; he brings you in well before his cycle starts and tells you, as calmly as he can manage, that you should stay away from his tent because the coming week is going to be hard for him. You misunderstand, initially, and immediately start reassuring him that if the resistance is running low on supplies or rations or defenses you’ll go out no problem to provide assistance. This then leads to him having to explain that no, this isn’t anything to do with the resistance, it’s a…it’s a biological problem, and it makes me…frustrated, it frustrates me, and I don’t think I could live with myself if you got caught in the crossfire. He’s really trying not to stumble over his words — this is incredibly embarrassing, incredibly, like, tail-trying-to-tuck embarrassing — but he’s doing his best, and what more could you ask?

✧ You’re not stupid. Biological problems making him frustrated to the point of not being able to see you? He’s dancing around the whole core of the thing and so you half-laugh and look at him and his slumping ears and semi-tucked tail and rose-tinted cheeks and ask him, point blank, if he’s trying to explain rut. He seems almost scandalized by you putting it so simply, but with a whiny groan and guiltily-closing eyes he nods and affirms your suspicions. Now he’s trying to excuse himself; it’s not a big deal, I’ll be fine, I just…it would be best for you to stay away, stay away while I’m dealing with it, but you’re not having it. Obviously, he’s used to dealing with his primal side on his own, but now he has you; perhaps your clear-thinking, never-having-dealt-with-a-rut conscience is what makes you wait for him to finish rushing through his panicked monologue before you step forward, take his hand in yours, and ask if it would be a better idea for him to just…get it out of his system. You know, for the efforts of the resistance and all. It can’t be good to have General Top Dog Gorou not completely focused on the fight, right? So maybe he should just…you know, let you spend the night this coming week and just let his biological problem run its course. You know, for the resistance.

At this point, you aren’t sure whether the damp spot under your cheek is from spit or tears. You can’t exactly check either; it’s like your muscles aren’t listening to you anymore. They’re so rigid it hurts, so stiff you can’t move unless you want to lose what little composure you have left. You’re hot, so hot; despite being clothed in what are now torn-up, ragged shreds of fabric, you feel stifled, overheated; it’s not coming from your surroundings, but rather, your gut, from somewhere deep in your gut, the same place that’s making every muscle go stiff and your legs practically vibrate and your eyes roll back and oh, please, the same place that Gorou keeps hitting, blunt tip spearing up against and hammering into overdrive.

The thought swirls hazily in your head for half a second before you feel hard, slick length pull out of you, bump heavily against the back of your thigh before you hear a shuffle and then a hot tongue is prodding at your sobbing hole, carving searing lines through the thick glaze of spit, pre, and arousal coating the hot space between your legs and flooding over to the insides of your thighs. It’s been like this for so long, so long — you’ve lost track of time. You force a rolled-back eye to come forward; you gaze blearily at the ceiling of the tent, try to find the glow of the moon but it’s no use, not when everything is blurred together with tears and the world feels like it’s spinning and—

Gorou whines between your legs, laps up the arousal your cunt is all but drooling out by this point. His face is glued to you; a broken, absent consideration for whatever little things he’s got in here crosses through your mind as you hear the telltale whisk of fur on tent.

You’re leaning your hips back, ready this time when he mounts back up behind you. Both hands grope around your hips, claw at the seams of your thighs and finally find purchase quite literally on the hill of your pelvis. His chest lays up on your back; he’s burning up, skin on fire as his canines latch onto your ear and his breath threatens to burn your cheek. He doesn’t speak; he can’t, you don’t think, vocabulary reduced to a handful of pants, moans, and breathy half-words, slurred “m’gon, m’gonna, hol’n” as his stiff cockhead prods through your slit and nudges back into the sopping warmth of your cunt. Something clatters to the floor; if the rhythmic, quickening thump of his tail furiously hitting the floor in tandem with his pistoning hips, he’s close, again. How many times had he already? Four? Five, maybe? He’s still going at it as hard as he had in the start; the only indicator that his stamina is lessening is how sloppy he’s getting with his motions. He’s constantly groping around for a hold on your slick skin despite having found one immediately when this all first started; his breathing has steadily grown more labored, and you can feel saliva soaking down your neck as his teeth find purchase beside your nape and he bites down, some last effort to anchor himself as his hips twitch and a fresh rope of heat spills out against that spot deep in your gut.

— TIGHNARI

✧ Much unlike the aforementioned general, his methods of dealing with his rut are…indulgent. He knows better than anyone what the rut is and why it does what it does and how to best work with it. The other researches know this; they know that sometimes, for no apparent reason at all, he writes up a whole patrol schedule for the next several days and sends himself out on the further ones; he’ll disappear for days at a time, often excusing himself with reasoning along the lines of studying the forest over a period of days to ensure that the Withering isn’t rearing its head, or that he wants to record the state of certain formerly-affected plants over a longer section of time. Both are rather normal reasons to be excused for so long; plus, Collei’s got home base under control, and his absences aren’t necessarily unusual. So, it works.

✧ If you pry enough — but wait, Tighnari, we might need you, we’ve got this thing we’re doing…how long will you be gone for? — he’ll explain it to you, and he’ll do so rather eloquently which is wild considering that he’s really just talking about how he gets ridiculously, unbearably horny for a week or so at a time and fucks his hands several dozen times over. He explains it scientifically, simply, and comfortably; he’s casual about what he’s talking about and maybe that’s why you have to do a double take and, as he’s walking out to check on Collei and make sure she’s got things covered, you sort of sputter and turn around and ask if he’s going into rut. He just pauses, looks over his shoulder, and blinks — you feel kind of stupid when he just looks at you and dubiously goes “yes?” Somehow, despite him being the one who’s literally distancing himself so he can masturbate in peace, you feel awkward and exposed. In any case, he just walks away, very casually, to check in on Collei, leaving you to realize that oh, oh, that’s…oh.

✧ When you stop him the night before he leaves — he’s packing a satchel of whatever he needs, you’d guess — you’re the one who’s shifting on your feet and hot in the face as you ask if he needs any help. He just blinks at you, asks what you mean, and flicks an ear when you open your mouth to answer and stammer out something about helping to carry something to his temporary campsite. He says he appreciates the offer but he’s got it managed just fine; plus, he adds, you don’t want to be around someone under (what he calls) animalistic instinct. You don’t quite know how to say that uh, well, haha, funny you say that, because I kind of do, and so you just say you’re worried about him going off on his own. He laughs — he finds that quite endearing — and tells you he’ll be fine. He tells you to go get some sleep; if it’ll make you feel better, he’ll bring you some spoils from the jungle when he gets back, so you can look forward to his return for reasons other than the obvious.

✧ Which, of course, doesn’t work. He disappears the next morning, as expected, but thanks to literally scouting the whole fucking jungle a good bit of adventurer’s expertise you stumble across his camp. Camp, consisting of a hollowed-out tree stump and the starts of a nest constructed from underbrush and reeds. It doesn’t take long to find the fox himself; upon seeing you he’s quick to jump into scolding, to which you literally have to cut him off and say that no, no, you know why he’s here and you’ll leave but also you meant it if he wanted help, like you really meant it, and…

Hands balled into fists, crushing willowy reed-stems in your grasp; to say you’re being drilled into is an understatement. The world had smelled initially like the jungle — damp soil, wild flowers, sweet wood — but now it smells hot, rough, almost wild.

And it’s all because of him.

Breath coming in short, thick half-pant, half-grunts, Tighnari’s chasing refuge from the need exploding through his system; it’s evident in the tendons defined down his neck, the blueish veins starting to stick up under his skin, the sheen of sweat painting his skin a glossy golden-cream. His face tips back; quivering under him, you watch as he groans into the hot, enclosed air of his carved-out camp, watch as he swallows, hard, as if to calm himself down.

Fat chance of that, you manage to think, lifting your head just a little to try a glance at your hips. Your prostrate hips, flat against the jungle floor, legs split apart to leave room for the sharp-eyed hybrid overhead to thrust up into you.

“Is this what you wanted?” His voice is surprisingly steady, considering how hard his hips are rutting and how aggressive the slap of skin on skin has gotten. His voice is aimed down at you; he’s looking down, now, watching your expression change with sardonic eyes. Both tall ears sit almost-flat against his head; he finds you funny, right now, funny even though you’re the one he’s been so desperately fucking into. “Helping me move my stuff, huh?”

You open your mouth to answer and can’t. He knows damn well what you’d meant; he knew it then, too, when he said he’d be just fine on his own. A test to see how far you’d go, perhaps, and one that you’d succeeded. Going on a wild hunt through a jungle to go find him is certainly something, he thinks — and what kind of thanks would it be if he didn’t let you give this whole bitch thing a whirl?

Your breathing breaks as his pace grows quicker; he never falters, not even when you grab on around the small of his back snd dig your nails into the smooth planes of his back. “Gonna,” you gasp, almost voiceless; “gonna, gonna, ‘Nari, gonna…”

Black fur curls against your ankle and trails up your thigh. He finds it funny, how quick you are to break under him; but oh, silly you. Silly, silly you. One round…that won’t do. But you know that, don’t you? That’s why you came out here; to ruin yourself, or to let him ruin you. Isn’t it?

— YAE MIKO

WOMEN. WOMEN RRRRRRAUGH THIS IS MOMMY

✧ If you think anyone is gonna know shit when this woman deals with a heat cycle then you’re wrong. Wrong. Yes, it is very frustrating and yes, she’s well aware of that feeling being there and yes, archons, she’s very poignantly aware that you, her little admirer — she’s poignantly aware that whenever you’re around she finds that feeling getting a little stronger and a little harder to ignore because maybe, maybe she’s a little…a little interested in you, and maybe those comments that sound flirty but you’ve always just chalked up to her being her mean a little more than she lets on, but…no, no. She won’t tell you that. It would be embarrassing and also weird; even Ei doesn’t know about it, and Ei knows most things. She knows her rosy-haired, sly-eyed familiar has taken a liking to you, and she’s mentioned it in brief teasing every now and again — in Ei’s mind, she should really just tell you because human life is short and eternity is damn long — but what she doesn’t know is that hr same rosy-haired, sly-eyed familiar finds somewhere, anywhere — hell, half the time it’s at the shrine where she won’t be bothered — and fucks herself with her hand and pretends it’s you, pretends, and she feels more than slightly foul afterward because she’s doing it at a sacred shrine but archons, screw it, she needs to take care of this or she’ll provoke Ei into another bad decision with her attitude.

✧ Speaking of which; it’s after another casual wander through Inazuma with Ei that you head up to visit her foxy familiar. Much unlike the many times you’ve seen her here before, she’s not in front of that sacred tree; no, she’s staring off into the fenced-off pond, and she looks very far away, like her head’s not all here. Upon calling for her, she seems to come back; she finds your eyes, offers you a charming little smile, and shuffles over as if to make room for you despite her current spot already being separated from the main crowd. Internally, she’s cursing herself for how her heart beats a little harder against her ribs and how the warmth between her legs starts to spread up into her gut, twists around her rationale and puts her world in a haze. Being in the depths of a heat cycle, specifically around you, has her almost scattered; she hears all of your questions well after you ask them and she answers even more delayed than that and so maybe that’s why you’re suddenly so close, trying to get closer to her face with your expression wrought and eyes worried as you ask if she’s feeling alright.

✧ She should push you away. She should, really, because you’re so warm, and you smell so nice and sweet and you look so pretty and untouched and — no, no, she should push you away, but she can’t. She’ll hide it under some smooth, late remark — I’m feeling fine; is this just an excuse to get closer to me? — but the little voice in her head is screaming at her to grab you by the nape and drag you off to a quiet, hidden corner and wreck you because you’re hers, hers, her sweet thing, hers…

✧ You don’t look alright. Have you been sleeping enough? Oh, ever-so-innocent, ever-so-sweet you, concerned suddenly that maybe the thin mountain air has gotten her sick as you press your palm to her forehead to see and — you’re burning up, you’re actually burning up, we need…do you have medicine? I’m not sure if familiars carry medicine, but we can head down to the village…no, no, I’ll head down, you stay here and I’ll bring something back for you, or…

✧ She finally manages a no. No, she doesn’t need medicine; trying to manage to keep her voice from dropping, she gives you the simple explanation of this happens sometimes and medicine won’t do anything about it, and you’re kind of confused because does she mean her period? do fox familiars get periods? when fox familiars get periods do they suddenly burn up like they’ve got a bad fever? but then you realize fox and oh, oh, you think you get it now. It must be evident on your face; oh, you say, face going hot, oh, sorry, I…do you need anything? I can leave you alone — sorry, I didn’t know, this is probably a bad time… but she’s just looking at you, now, and you don’t quite know what to do before you feel hot fingers wrap around your wrist and nails poke your skin. She’s trying to keep up the act; are you asking to help? she manages, suave tone just slightly shaky, and you’re sort of left sitting there dealing with the moral question of whether or not fucking the Electro Archon’s familiar is something you’ll get tit-sword’d for but ultimately, looking at slightly-heaving Miko with her eyes almost glowing and her skin starting to burn yours and oh, is that a blush you’re seeing? you decide that maybe getting tit-sword’d is worth it.

For being such a smooth talker, Yae Miko is awfully messy when it comes to sex. At least, this kind of sex. The sex where she’s dragged you rather hurriedly and rather unceremoniously behind one of the buildings atop the shrine, practically shoved you up against the wooden wall and swallowed any complaints or remarks you may have had about the manner between her lips. Dominant, yes — but messy. Messy, in the way her mouth can’t seem to stay on yours and instead slips off, wets the corners of your mouth and down under your jaw when you try and fail to gasp for breath. Messy, in the way that her hands are immediately moving; one raking down your spine, the other digging into your nape, and then both to your sides, and then one up under your blouse to tear apart the buttons and get a handful of your chest. Messy, in the way that despite her heat being at its worst, especially being neglected for so long, she insists on marking you; you don’t know if the Shogun’s eyes see the shrine but oh, oh, you hope they don’t, because you’re pinned to a wall with her familiar licking and biting and sucking on the soft spots under your jaw so hard that you’re heaving and debating on whether or not it’s okay to wrap your arms behind her head and draw her deeper into you because it feels like fire, it feels like fire on your throat…

“On your knees,” she purrs shakily, breath hot on your neck. “On your knees, get on your knees…you said you’d help me, didn’t you? Be good…listen to me, listen…”

And so, you do. And, really, you shouldn’t be surprised but oh, the way she watches you drop weakly to your knees, land softly in the grass with the wooden wall burning up your back — it’s too much, it’s too much, and your eyes have gone drunken before she can even start to move her clothes, move the pretty white silk out of the way and she’s lowering herself, too, but she really doesn’t have to. She doesn’t have to, because you’re drunk on desire and maybe that’s what gives you the confidence to touch her, wrap a shaky hand around her thigh and stretch up, duck under her dress guys im so sorry it might be a kimono but i actually do not know and i dont want to use the wrong terminology and sound dumb please help and…oh, she smells so sweet, so warm and sweet and—

She swears she sees stars. The long, pitched-tailed moan she lets out is evidence of it; nails scrape along your nape as you tongue at the heat burning fiercely between her thighs, taste thick, sugared arousal on your tongue and groan as you lap for more. She gives you no instructions, no limits, and so you just go all in; you wrap an arm around her waist to steady yourself as you let go of her thigh, reach up with your now-free hand and spread slick, soaked folds apart to get on the source. Her breathing is labored; you can feel her pulse stuttering when the tip of your tongue finds her pulsing cunt, pushes in only to get tightened on. Something warm and soft brushes the hand behind her back; you’ve seen the ghost of her tail a few times but it sure as fuck feels real now, beating against her thigh as you latch onto the sweet well between her thighs and practically drink the effect of her heat as it dribbles down your chin. Heaven, you’re in heaven, and oh, archons, so is she; the wooden wall behind you groans as she shifts, assumably to rest her weight against it as her thighs steady against your head and close you off to the outside world.

[javispunk]

Care

Summary: You wanted to surprise Joel with something nice, but a few thieves got the best out of you. Joel was not happy about it, but tries his best to take care of you.

Pairing: Joel x fem!reader

Content/Warnings: Mention of robbery or assault, 18+ smut (somewhat filthy, nothing too crazy) (minors don’t interact!), fingering, unprotected sex, but also pure fluff, soft!joel but also angry!joel.

Notes: Hi! Please excuse any mistake, as english is not my first language! Please feel free to leave any requests you'd like me to write.

You wanted to tell him, you did, but you knew it would be best not to. Something went wrong at the marketplace. You wanted to sell somethings you had laying around your house for some rations and you managed to do it peacefully. On your way back home, two kids stopped you in the street, demanding your reward. You were reluctant at giving it to them, they would be good to both you but specially Joel, who had been a bit ill and extremely tired lately. You wanted to surprise him. But once the two guys held your arms with brut force between their fingers, you gave up. They let you go with a push, and you ended up facing down on the broken stone floor, resulting in a few scratches, barely open wounds, but still noticeable, stinging your skin every time you moved your face.

You continued your way back home, defeated, not by the scratches you now carried, but because you lost everything. You grabbed your keys and opened your front door carefully, trying not to wake Joel up. He was still peacefully sleeping on the bed. You got rid of your outside clothes, covering yourself with a loose t-shirt. You headed over to the bathroom and looked at yourself in the mirror. You had a few scratches in the right side of your face, beginning at the high of your cheekbone, ending on the low of your jawline. You opened the tap slowly and grabbed some cloth, wet it and tried to apply some to your face.

“Shit.” You said to yourself, as the stinging got worse. You repeated this process a few times, hoping to not make a lot of noise.

“Hey. You’re home.” You heard Joel behind you, still half asleep, as he rubbed his eyes with one hand. With his eyes still closed from sleep, he slid both his arms, one on each of your sides, wrapping them up and connecting them on your stomach. His cheek rested on top of your head, still sleepy and rocking you gently from side to side, like a slow dancing move.

You panicked. What if he looked straight into that mirror and noticed your face? It was nothing much, but you know he would not like it a tiny bit.

“I am.” You tried to disguise your nervousness with a half laugh. You also escaped his arms quickly, and headed to the kitchen, where you pretended to do something for both of you to eat.

“I ate earlier, you don’t have to make something for me sweetheart.” He assured you while following you through the house.

“I’m just super hungry.” You tried to avoid to look him in the face. But he grabbed you once again from behind, pressing his body weight on your back against the counter. His lips hovered your skin, resting on the nape of your neck where he placed a sleepy kiss. Then your shoulder and after that the side of your neck. It was hard for you to reject his touch, but you were scared he would see you.

“How do you always smell so good?” He asked, more to himself than to you, his mouth still in your neck.

“I shower, Joel. You should try it.” You tried nagging him about it.

“Hm, alright. Got the message.” He started running his hand down between your legs. “Wanna join me in there?”

“I can’t Joel”. Your mouth said something your body didn’t want. You turned your head to the side, so he would have more room to kiss your skin. Your hips slightly pushed to the back, hitting the slight bulge on his jeans. “I really should make us something to eat.”

“I’m not hungry baby. C’mon, I missed you. You’ve been gone all day.” He placed one of his hands inside your shirt, just below your stomach, and the other tried to look for the hem of your panties.

He sent shivers down your spine with every touch you traded. And sometimes you couldn’t run from it, neither wanted to. He’s gonna see it anyway, you thought to yourself. You rapidly put down the hand towel you were grabbing this whole time and turned around to face him, grabbing his neck to pull him closer to you.

You felt him smile into your kiss. “That’s my girl.” You felt his hands each on both your sides, lifting you up to sit you on the counter, you immediately wrapping your legs on his waist.

His left hand touched the base of your chest, going all the way up to the base of your neck, which he wrapped easily with his hand, applying some pressure. You sighed a little. Even moaned his name when he pushed you to him by the throat. His hand caressed, rather feverishly the right side of your face, holding it in place. And that is when you slightly hissed in pain. Too rapid and loud to be just a sign of pleasure.

“What’s wrong?” He asked immediately, trying to analyse your expression, trying to fully wake up from his sleepy haziness. You watched his eyes change as he noticed the slight redness on your face and the change of texture on your skin underneath his fingers. “What happened?” His body language changed completely, not moving an inch from you but analysing you with care. “What?” His voice sounded deeper than before.

You closed your eyes in search for the best words. “Joel…”

“What?” He repeated, reaching forward in your direction while raising his eyebrows.

“It’s nothing!”

“Who did this to you?” He asked, as his body tensed slightly.

“Joel… it’s fine, they were just some kids who thought they were funny, I don’t know-”

“I knew I should’ve gone with you. Why did you insist on going alone, sweetheart?”

You shut your eyes, in defeat. “I sold somethings I didn’t need, and I traded it for more rations for you. It was supposed to be a surprise, and now I have nothing.”

You felt him reach for you hand. “For me? Oh honey, that’s okay. You didn’t have to do that. I’ll just do more shifts over night to make up for it.” He assured you.

“More that those you already do?” You paused, looking him in the eye. “Absolutely not Joel. You’re always tired and your health’s taking a turn, I can see it.”

He rubbed the bridge of his nose between his fingers, sighing slowly.

“Let’s just pretend this didn’t happen.” You pleaded.

“But it did.” His voice got low again. “Seriously, who were they?” He continued asking, analysing the right side of your face.

“I have no idea, I’ve never really seem them around.” You continued, as you grabbed his hand again in yours. “I’m fine, Joel, honestly.” You shot him a smile.

He looked at you with worried eyes, hoping he would bump into these guys and beat them to death. Just the thought of someone hurting you in any way made his skin crawl in horror.

“You’re so stubborn.” He finally spoke. “Please.”

“Help me get them clean.” You gestured to your face. Something lit in his face, realising your request. He got up, sprinted to the bathroom to grab everything he needed. You got out of the kitchen counter and sat on your couch. He came back with wet warm cloths and some medicine to apply to your skin.

“No Joel, it doesn’t even hurt that bad. We are so low on those right now.” You spoke with alarm on your tone when you saw him sit next to you, holding the little package.

He shrugged your hand, getting it out of the way, as you tried to take it from him. “Stop. Let me help you.”

You eased as you looked into his eyes while he compressed wet cloths into your wounds. You’ve seen that face a hundred times but still analysed it with such care each time. His worried brow furrowed, meeting the top of his nose’s bridge. Your stare went down his lips once more, alternating it between them and his eyes every now and then. He’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen and here he was, taking care of your scratches, barely visible. You rapidly connect your mouth to his, which took him by surprise. You felt him smile into your lips as he whispered a “okay, let me do this.” and reapplied the cloth to the side of your face.

Your hands pushed his own, guiding them to the sides of your body, as you climbed to his lap, one leg on each side. You were rough on your movements and the pressure you applied on his lap.

“Fuck.” You heard him groan into your open mouth. You continued kissing him, grabbing the back of his neck once more, hoping he would just indulge. “Are you okay?”

“I said I’m fine.” You barely disconnected your lips from his.

“No, honestly, are you-”

“Shut up Joel.” You kept making out with the man below you.

“Yes ma’am.” He mumbled under his breath, as he grabbed your ass with both hands, lifting you up to position you better against him.

You let him feel how wet you were, guiding his hand to part your underwear to the side and sliding his middle and index fingers through your folds. He looked up at you immediately, showing a cocky smile before speaking. “What’s this about?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Seeing you take care of me like that.”

“Oh.” He started, before sliding both his fingers inside you with such ease from how slimy you were. “I’d take care of you for the rest of my life.”

You moaned some curse words into his face, making your mouth fall open to an O as you felt him fill you. He started slow, but picked up his pace while reading your expression. His cocky smile still plastered on his face.

“Faster, Joel.” You didn’t have to say another word. He’d been waiting for this all day. To curl his fingers inside you so deep it would hit your spongy spot he knew you’d love.

His expression changed, sending you shivers when you noticed his other hand tracing your spine and end up on the base of your thigh for support. “You’re so fucking hot when you use my hand like this.” He said, applying pressure on your clit with his thumb, in small circular motions.

You bounced on his hand slightly, desperate for more. “I need you.” You tucked at his hair, while pulling at his belt with your free hand.

Looking down at your hand, he spoke assertively, with a smile on his face. “Take it.”

Frenetically, you began unbuckling his belt and undoing his jeans as best you could, pulling them slightly down so they would be halfway down his thighs, pulling down his boxers the same way. His cock shot right up, now free from all the restricting clothes, propped up in the perfect angle for you to enjoy it. As you felt Joel take his fingers from you, you immediately grabbed him with one of your hands and began to direct it with your entrance. You heard the noises you both made when in contact with each other.

“Ah, fuck.” You heard Joel whimper loud and clear when he entered you. “You feel so good.” You quickened your pace on top of him, letting him help you, positing his hands on your hips, guiding you through his length. “You like it when I take care of you.” He repeated.

You nodded your head in approval, looking him in the eye. “Yes Joel.” You said mid moan.

“Oh my God…” he whispered. “Would you look at that? So perfect for me.”

You cut him off just before glueing your mouth to his. “Make me cum, Joel.”

His hands gripped on your sides with more force, allowing him to fill up in all the way with each thrust. The air was filled with condensation, the sounds of your ass hitting his thighs rhythmically and the now not so soft grunts from him, accompanied with your desperate moans as you began to reach your orgasm.

“You’re so close, look at you.” His cocky smile reappearing in his face.

“I’m gonna cum Joel. Please.” You begged him to not stop.

“Right there with you, baby.” He continued his pace, hoping to get you through your edge. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten until it released with an explosion of nerves. You held Joel behind his neck, pushing his face into your chest, still with sloppy bouncing as you tried to ride your high. He wrapped his strong arms around your torso, holding you steady. As you closed your eyes you felt Joel’s warm spur shooting up inside you, which made you moan again. You were incredibly sensitive and he knew. He gave you some last thrusts while looking up at you, from between your breasts. His mouth open in his usual cocky smile. Your sighs filled the room with urgency while you recovered both, still wrapped around each other.

You melted into each other’s skin, until Joel raised his head and placed a soft kiss on one of your wounds.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t give you that surprise.” You said.

“I got everything I need right here”. You heard him with a stupid smile on your face. “But please let me come with you next time.” You quickly realised that he meant the market or any dangerous place on the city, but instead decided to mock him.

“The shower? Of course, c’mon now.” You got yourself up before he could pick you up again.

You heard him laugh behind you. “That’s not it, but I’ll take it.” As he rushed his foot, trying to get you in his arms again.

[xxmayxx05]

Just the three of us: Steddie x reader

pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem Reader x Eddie Munson

Summary: You develop a crush on Steve Harrington who is your next door neighbor and Eddie Munson the freak of Hawkins. They wouldn’t mind sharing you at all.

Warning: Smut! later in the next part!

a/n: Hi! I will be making this a series, and this is the first part! I am very excited to be back and I hope you guys like it! Send any requests, they are highly appreciated!

You slowly started waking up at the sound of your alarm going off. Groaning softly you stretched your hand out and punched the button to turn it off. Sleep faded away and you sat up, rubbing your eyes softly and stretching your arms; trying to wake yourself up. Today was your first day at hawkins High school. You were originally from NYC but your parents had to move to Hawkins because of their jobs; it was a big disappointment because you were alone once again. 

Getting up and heading to the bathroom to wash up and get ready for school. Changing into a oversized cream color sweater, a black mini skirt with black tights and your black doc martens, you were ready for school. Heading down the stairs, you looked around the living room you didn’t see a parent. Walking to the kitchen you saw a small note in the table. 

“Dad and I had to go away for a work trip, here is $100 for the week. Take care and good luck at school honey” 

Chuckling you shook your head in disbelief and left the note and the two fifty dollar bills in the kitchen table. Of course, they would leave for a week and not tell you anything. You shouldn’t be surprised but there would be times that you couldn’t help yourself but wish that they were more involved in your life and not always give you money to fill some type of void. Grabbing your backpack and keys you walked out; locking the house door and walking to your car. You looked next door and a very handsome guy was walking out of his house.

Taking a deep breath, you checked out your next door neighbor. He was tall, hair done to perfection, sharp jaw line, light brown eyes, and his outfit was casual but cute. The next door neighbor looked at you and waved with a small smirk.

You were caught checking him out. Fuck. 

Waving back softly and giving him a small smile. You started panicking when you saw that he was coming towards you.

“Hi you must be my new neighbor” he said and extended his hand. 

“Hi I’m Y/N, and you must be?” you questioned and shook his hand. Internally you were screaming because of the way he was looking at you. He looked at you up and down discretfully and looked at your lips. Smirking softly when you noticed that, you found a weakness. 

“I’m Steve harrington” He said and leaned in kissing your cheek. “Welcome to Hawkins, love” 

Fuck, you thought. Your legs felt like jelly and you were about to give up at any second but you composed yourself. Not wanting to make a fool out of yourself with the next door neighbor. “Nice to meet you Steve” you said and smiled at him. 

“Are you heading to Hawkins high school?” he asked and wrapped his arms. 

“Yeah, it’s my first day” you said and looked at the way his muscles flex when he wrapped his arms together. Looking back up at him. “You must be heading there right?” you asked, knowing that he was because it was the only high school in this town. 

“I am, if you’d like I could show you around school. Just ask and I’ll gladly do it” he said with a small smile. He noticed that you were checking him out and he didn’t mind it at all. Steve was liking this interaction too much. Ever since you and your parents moved in next door, he had become curious about you. You had caught his eye, at how beautiful you looked. Your hair was in a loose pony tail, beautiful smile, very minimal makeup, you had taken his breath away and he would peak next door to see if he had any chance to see you. To his great destiny, his room was right across yours and could see your room through his window.

“I’ll keep that in mind Steve” you nodded your head and unlocked your car door. “See your around school then” you said and opened the door. 

“See you around, love” he said with a smile and walked away to what seemed his car. 

Getting in your car, you let out the breathe that you didn’t even know that you were holding. Steve Harrington was a huge surprise to you. Maybe this town wasn’t going to be as bad as you thought. 

Sighing as you left the principles office, you now had to look for your first class period. Walking around the hallways of Hawkins high, you were looking for B101. Looking down at the schedule that the principle had given you, you walked a bit and accidentally walked towards someone. 

“I’m so sorry” you said when you walked backward a tiny bit and realized you walked towards someones chest. Looking up from the graphic tee shirt with the drawing of a devil and the shirt saying hellfire club. Looking up you saw a handsome guy with curly hair, beautiful brown eyes and smile. 

“It’s okay, no worries” he said and extended his hand out. “Eddie Munson” he said. 

“Y/n” you said and shook his hand. 

It been a good day for you so far. Parents are away for a week and you met two very cute guys. 

“You seem lost” he said and looked at what you were holding. “I must guess that you are the new girl” he said with a apologetic smile. “Welcome to this hell hole, I like calling Hawkins” he chuckled. 

“Yeah unfortunately” you laughed softly and nodded your head. “I’m originally for New york, it’s very different around here” you said. 

“Holy shit, why would you move here?” he asked surprised. “If I lived in New york, I would never move away” 

“Moved here because of my parents, they are always going to different places so I don’t even know why we moved in the first place” shrugging your shoulders. The bell rang and everyone started heading to their classes. “Shit” 

“What’s your first class?” Eddie asked. 

“U.S history, B101” you answered and gave him your schedule. 

Eddie looked at the schedule and smiled. “It’s fate, we have all the same classes. Follow me madam” he said and extended his arm. 

Laughing softly you wrapped your arm around his and followed him.

It was now lunch and you were thankful. All of your classes seemed pretty easy, but just the though of the homework that you have already gotten was stressing you out. Eddie was amazing so far. In this short amount of time, you couldn’t help but develop a small crush on him. 

“There they are” he said as he pointed out at the table with his friends. Surprisingly Steve was there, you hadn’t seen him around the school when it was time to switch. You followed him and smiled softly. 

“Everyone, we have a new member.” he said and wrapped his arm around your shoulder with a small smirk. 

Looking around the table you smiled at the new faces and there was steve. He looked at Eddie’s arm and then at you. Noticing how he clenched his fist and his jaw was sealed tight. 

Introducing yourself to everyone, you already felt that everyone was really nice and you had a nice feeling. Eddie had told you to sit next to Steve due to the two empty spots next to him. You sat down and realized that you were in between of Eddie and Steve. 

Steve looked at you and couldn’t help but check you out. You were very beautiful and he was jealous that Eddie has spent more time when he wanted to. He would look around the halls before heading to his next class to see if you needed guidance, but he had no luck. Harrington didn’t know why he was feeling this type of way towards you, when he just met you today but he liked it. He just knew that he had to be very careful with his next move. 

Everyone on the table asked you different questions about NYC and how was it living there. Little by little you started opening yourself to them and you felt excited at the thought of having new friends. This town wasn’t going to be as bad as you thought. 

Eddie felt happy that you were having a good time with the rest of the group. He knew that you were going to fit right in with them, mostly feeling more excited at the amount of time that he was now going to spend time with you. Eddie was looking at your beautiful features and smiled softly, his smile faltered a little when he saw Steve staring at you and looking down at your lips. A bit of rage filled his chest and he balled up his fists. He needed to be very careful with his approach towards you and it had to be fast before Harrington. 

After school you went home to put a bit of make up before meeting up with the rest. They have decided to go bowling tonight and you immediately agreed. Eddie had offered to come pick you up and you agreed. The door bell rang and you put the last finish touch of your lip gloss. Walking down the stairs, you opened the door and was surprised to see Steve. 

“Hey” you said softly and smiled. 

Steve smiled and noticed that you put a bit of makeup, you looked even more beautiful with the small amount of makeup. With or without makeup you were still very beautiful. 

“Hey, was wondering if you wanted a ride to the bowling alley” he said. 

“Oh, Eddie offered to give me a ride” you said lowly, feeling sorry. 

Steve felt embarrassed and a bit of rage filled his chest. Munson was starting to make his moves towards you and he couldn’t let that happen. 

Right on time, Eddie honked his horn twice. “You could come with us, I’m sure Eddie would say yes” you offered, not wanting this interaction to be awkward. 

Steve smirked and nodded his head. “That would be perfect actually” he said and waited for you on your porch.

You locked your door and walked with Steve to Eddie’s Van. 

“Hey Eddie, could Steve come with us?” you asked kindly. 

Eddie’s smile faltered a little but nodded his head. “Join us Harrison” he said. 

“Thanks Munson” Steve gave him a bright smile and opened the Vans door for you. You climbed into the Vans middle seat and accidentally your lace pink cheeky panties peaked under your skirt. Steve bit his bottom lip softly and took a deep breath to calm himself down. He got inside and closed the door. Praying that his semi hard on went down before you could notice. 

Eddie couldn’t help but looked down at your exposed thick thighs, he was thankful that you skirt rode up and he was able to see your beautiful thighs. He felt pathetic for thinking this way but he couldn’t help it, he knew that you are very beautiful and was proud that he manned up to help you out when he saw you lost in the hallway. He had to get his shit together and get you before Harrington. 

One month later

Your first month in Hawkins went by really fast and you had great friends. Everyone was very nice to you. You had created a very good bond with Robin and after school she would come to your house. 

‘I’m telling you, Steve and Eddie both like you” she sighed as she laid down on your bed while eating a twizzler. 

“Can’t be, they both are really nice to me and that’s all” you said as you sat on your vanity chair and started to put a bit of makeup. 

“Don’t be delusional, they both are always trying to catch your attention, they always offer you something and stare at you” she laughed softly and sat up. 

“Yeah I did notice that today.” you nodded your head a bit, she was right. Both boys would talk to you and give each other a semi glare to each other. “ I wouldn’t mind talking to both of them” you smirked softly. 

“Dirty dirty girl” Robin laughed. “I knew the New yorker in you would come out some day”

“Look, both of them are very handsome. They are tall, veiny hands, the muscles, oh the muscles. Both of them are my type, I wouldn’t mind if they shared me” you said truthfully and turned to her. “You only live once Robin, it wouldn’t hurt to experiment a bit” you said and shrugged your shoulders. 

“I could help you out with that” she said with a mischievous grin and tapped her fingers together. 

“Robin, you are the best wing women” you said as you got up and hugged her. “I owe you big time” you said and grabbed one of her twizzlers. 

Both girls walked downstairs to the living room and waited for Steve and Eddie. They all decided to do a study group for a class, you had offered your house because once again. Mom and dad weren’t home but this time for two weeks. The doorbell rang, notifying that one of the boys were here. Robin went and opened up the door and hilariously enough, Steve and Eddie were both standing there a bit awkwardly. 

“Hello, lover boys” Robin said teasingly and walked towards you. You were sitting in the middle of you living room, criss crossed with some books spread out around you. She knew that the short shorts and the crop top that she chose for you was going to drive them both crazy. 

Eddie put his backpack down and breathed deeply when he saw how the crop top hugged your chest perfectly and your short shorts barely covered anything. He wanted to take you right then and there if Steve and Robin were gone. 

“Hi guys” you greeted them both and gave a small wink at Robin. Noticing how both boys looked at you. You noticed the deep breath that Eddie took and you turned to Steve who was biting his bottom lip and looked at your semi covered body. “Let’s begin” you said with a smile.