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#Like it does seem like he does half way care for his kids and is angry at the gods for genuine reasons
dangerpronebuddie · 9 hours
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Saw this post from @thatbuddie and cried writing this. Happy Father's Day to all who celebrate and all who struggle through it. Love y'all 🩷
He doesn't know why he's torturing himself. It's not really torture, but the ache in his heart is. He can't help the smile on his face even through the tears as he looks through the box. Seeing how much Chris' artwork has changed over the years is more than enough to have him in a blubbering heap in the floor of his closet. Seeing it while knowing he won't witness how it'll change for who knows how long is almost enough to completely shatter him. Handmade cards, origami swans Shannon taught him to make, origami frogs Buck showed him, and the heart Eddie insisted on keeping rather than tossing out all sit neatly tucked in the box at the top of the closet. His reasons for keeping the heart are too difficult to explain. It's one of his favorites. He stacks each piece carefully beside him, wiping his tears on the sleeve of his hoodie so he doesn't damage the pages. He's not outright sobbing. He'll take it as a win. Chris still isn't speaking to him, but Ramon sends lots of pictures and updates every day. He says Chris is adjusting okay, but not his usual bright self. Eddie knows the feeling. He opens the card from last father's day and can't help but outright giggle. Chris' handwriting is just like Buck's. Small and slanted and barely legible unless you're used to the style. He doesn't know why it's so hilarious. Maybe he's losing his mind. He collects himself with a deep breath and sets the card aside before reaching into the box and taking the next piece from the pile. This one does break him. He remembers standing on the sidewalk as the bus drove away, surrounded by parents who seemed more than happy to have two weeks without a kid to take care of. Eddie couldn't understand how they were so ecstatic to watch their kids leave. He feels the same way now as he did that day. Glad he let Chris go, but more than a little empty without half of his heart. He feels a tug in his chest, like the string that connects them wants to snap. He resists the urge to hold on tighter, just like that morning all those years ago. He blinks through the tears at the writing in the card. Chris' assurance that Eddie would be fine is the thing that has him choking out a sob, dropping the card to his lap as he covers his face with his hands. "Hey, hey, Eds, it's okay." Eddie hiccups a sob and slumps against Buck's chest. He doesn't know when he showed up. He didn't hear the door, or Buck's usual cheerful greeting. He's just glad he's here. There was a time when he'd try to collect himself. Scoop the broken pieces into some semblance of a person and pretend he's fine. But he's not. And he knows Buck's not either. Eddie twists and wraps his arms around Buck's neck, his shoulders shaking with each sob. Buck rubs soothing circles on his back, whispering reassurances to him Eddie barely registers. "I'm sorry," Eddie whimpers, holding tighter. "Hey, it's okay," Buck says softly, his own voice wavering. "I miss him too. I know."
Eddie doesn't know how long they stay curled around each other, holding each other together as the tears fall away. It reminds Eddie of the day Chris left. How he had turned to Buck and broke. They sat on the floor by the couch for over an hour, simply holding each other, clinging to the one and only lifeline they both had left. Eddie sniffles and takes a deep breath after God knows how long, finally collecting himself enough to lean back. He wipes his sleeves across his face and takes another shaky breath. "No word from him?" Buck asks. Eddie shakes his head. "You?" Buck shakes his head. "Doesn't mean he doesn't love you, Eddie." Eddie knows that, he does. But some days, his mind doesn't let him believe it. That was how he ended up in the closet floor, sifting through the evidence. "You still up for lunch with Bobby?" Buck asks after a few minutes. "If you're not, we can plan it another day. He'd understand." "I still want to go," Eddie says with a genuine smile. Just because he's having a shitty day doesn't mean Buck and Bobby have to as well. Buck stands and offers a hand to pull Eddie to his feet. Eddie stands with a groan and winces as his knees crackle. Buck giggles and opens his mouth to speak. "Don't you say a word, Buckley," Eddie warns, pointing a finger at him. Buck smirks and raises his free hand in surrender. "Wasn't going to say anything. I was just going to find your cane." "You're older than me!" Eddie squawks, lightly bapping his chest. "Your knees say otherwise," Buck grins. He tugs on their still joined hands. "Come on. Cap's waiting on us." He practically drags Eddie to the door. Eddie smiles, already feeling a little lighter. Buck's always been able to do that. Always been able to drag him from the depths of his mind so simply. Both their phones chime as they step out into the afternoon sun. Eddie takes his from his pocket as Buck does the same. Eddie's heart stitches a piece of itself back together at the notification. A message to the Buckley-Diaz (Chris picked the name) group chat: Superman: Happy Father's Day guys Love you The tears that fall from Eddie's eyes this time are filled with joy and love. He beams at Buck, who's wearing his Christopher-specific grin. Eddie pulls him into a hug and they dissolve into laughter laced with relief. Eddie knows they still have a lot of work to do. Frank even suggested having a therapy session with Chris. But this? This is a start. This is what finally lets him believe- "We're gonna be okay," Buck says, cradling the back of Eddie's head. Eddie curls his fists in Buck's shirt, holding tight. "Yeah. We're gonna be okay." He presses his temple to Buck's. "Happy Father's Day, Buck." "Happy Father's Day, Eddie."
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aylacavebear · 2 days
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Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 1
When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?
Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You
Word Count: 5393
Warnings: Angst, Past Trauma.
A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers. Not sure when this one will be up and available to read yet. Just getting the chapter list started for it.
----------------------------------------- Chapter 1
You grew up hearing about soulmates, but since you were raised by your Aunt Ellen, it was something you weren’t sure was even true. She’d shown you the mark that had shown up on her hip, your uncle’s name, when she’d turned sixteen. Soulmates clearly were a thing, but you were skeptical, even as a child.
“Hey, you gonna take care of the customers or just stand there daydreamin?” Ellen asked you.
“Sorry,” you quickly apologized, tending to the men at the bar.
How did I end up working here, of all places?
Your mind constantly drifted these days, and it started a month ago. Your twenty-fifth birthday was only three months away. Jo continually teased you when she found you off in your head during work hours. Then there was your Aunt Ellen, who was getting more worried about you as the days passed.
The music from the jukebox sounded far away, almost muffled as you absentmindedly took care of the tasks of cleaning tables, the bar, restocking bottles, and filling drinks. Guys would flirt with you, but you’d only give them that fake smile and move on.
It was the birthday you’d been waiting for, even if you hadn’t wanted to admit it to anyone. You were turning sixteen, and you’d finally see the name of your soulmate. Thanks to your aunt, you had gotten your hopes up.
But the day came and went, and nothing appeared. You had checked everywhere, even behind your ears. There was nothing. It took months to pull out of that depression, especially when those close to you asked about it. You also felt like some sort of freak. In all the research you’d done, you couldn’t find anything about not getting the mark when you turned sixteen.
“Geeze, Y/N. You’re really out of it today. What’s wrong, sweetie?” Ellen asked you, pulling you from your memories.
“Sorry. My mind seems to have a mind of its own today,” you sighed, glancing around the bar for a moment.
“You still bummed about the soulmate thing?” she asked you sincerely, in the way she did when she was gently trying to get you to talk.
You just shrugged your shoulders before taking off your apron, “I have to go help Bobby at the garage again.” 
“Is it that time already?” Ellen asked, glancing at the clock, then sighed. “Alright. Tell the old grump I said hi, and don’t let him work you too hard.” That made you chuckle, “He never does, and I’ll let him know.”
Again, your mind drifted as you drove down the semi-busy streets to Bobby’s garage. He and your Aunt had been friends for a long time, so he was practically family, as was his wife, Jodi. Growing up, you’d spent half your time in the garage, helping Bobby fix cars.
Sioux Falls wasn’t a big town, but wasn’t tiny either. You knew most of the people who lived there, and they knew you. It was more like more of them knew of you, the girl with no soulmate. You sighed as you drove your 71’ Pontiac Firebird Formula 400, a gift from Bobby you had to fix up, down the lonely road leading to his garage. 
“Got something for ya, kid, but you gotta fix her up,” Bobby told you when you showed up for your shift that hot summer afternoon.
“I told you. You don’t have to get me a present this year,” you groaned.
A year ago, you began hating your birthdays, and you didn’t want to celebrate this one. You begrudgingly followed him to his garage, then to the side of it, where you noticed the tarp over something.
Bobby walked over and pulled the tarp off, revealing the shell of a 71’ Pontiac Firebird Formula 400. You had fallen in love with muscle cars as a kid, watching The Dukes of Hazzard. Your jaw hit the floor as you ran over to her like a kid on Christmas.
He was smiling from ear to ear as he watched you look over everything, “She’s all yours, but you gotta do the work. You can’t let any other mechanic touch her. I’ll answer any questions, but I ain’t helpin' either.”
“Are you serious, Uncle Bobby?” you asked excitedly, popping the hood of the beat-up frame.
A small smile crossed your expression with that memory as you pulled into the driveway of Bobby’s garage and parked in the back. It seemed like so long ago, but it was one of your fondest memories that had made your birthday not so bad.
“I’m here,” you hollered, heading over to the car you’d been working on for almost a week at this point. 
“How was the bar?” he asked, joining you in the garage.
“I was a space cadet, and Aunt Ellen is worried about me,” you replied, sliding back under the car to finish it up.
“You’re not a space cadet. I just think you can’t focus around all those people anymore. Come work at the garage, full-time,” he told you, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms.
“I’ll think about it,” you answered, tightening down a few more bolts.
“Besides, Jodi misses you being around more often,” Bobby added in an attempt to persuade your decision.
“I miss her too. Oh! Ellen said hi. I don’t know why she doesn’t text you more often,” you replied, sliding out from under the car, looking for yet another tool for yet another size bolt.
When you were in the garage, you always seemed to be able to focus. You knew Bobby had a point, and you’d been considering it for almost a month, but you weren’t about to tell him that. You wanted to let him think it was his idea.
Yeah, your mind drifted, but it was nothing like at the bar. Here, they were little snippets of memories: kids teasing you in high school, adults looking at you like you had two heads, and then there had been attempts to find a job but getting turned down everywhere due to not having the name of your soulmate on your body somewhere. 
By the time your shift ended, you had the car completely finished. Looking down at the car, you stood there, covered with blotches of grease but beaming with pride. 
“I’ll let the owner know she’s ready,” Bobby smiled, now standing next to you. “Think about it, though, okay?”
“I will,” you replied, giving him a hug before you headed home for the night since you’d already cleaned up the tools you’d used.
You lived in a cute little house not far from Bobby’s garage. It was the only thing that you had from your parents, along with a handful of pictures. You’d lost both of them to a car crash when you were only two, having no real memories of them. 
Since you were two when you had lost them, you never asked Jodi what had happened or if anyone else was involved. You honestly didn’t want to know. 
Dropping the things from your pockets on the table, you locked your door and headed to the bathroom. Your thoughts drifted again as you did your typical night routine.
“I’m sorry you’re having such a hard time finding work, sweetie. You can’t work here till you’re at least eighteen. I can’t break that law for you,” Ellen sighed.
You crossed your arms and went back outside to your car. You knew why no one in town would hire you, and it was a stupid reason. However, being a teenager still, you were all hormones and now needed to go blow off some steam.
You peeled out of the parking lot and down the road to your parent's place, which would be yours in less than a year. The drive was short due to the speed you’d chosen to go, and a cloud of dust rolled over your car when you parked out back of the house.
Between the punching bag, the target practice, and throwing your knives till your arm was sore, you had finally calmed down some. You made a call to Ellen and told her you were going to sleep at your ‘almost’ house. She didn’t like it but didn’t argue either.
You cried yourself to sleep that night, curled up in the soft bed that would eventually be your permanent room as the sun set slowly. The thought of being alone for the rest of your life hurt more than you’d ever tell anyone.
Dinner that night consisted of leftovers, and you were thankful you’d prepared them ahead of time when the week began—baked chicken, potatoes, and gravy. You were far too out of it to even worry about a vegetable. 
I’ll tell Ellen tomorrow.
Finally deciding to quit working at the bar as you cleaned up dinner and headed to bed, almost feeling as though a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Slipping under the covers and getting comfortable, you also felt more relaxed than usual. 
—----
Two hours into your shift, and Ellen had already had to pull you out of your head a dozen times. It was Saturday, so even the morning hours were busy today. You were just thankful that you never had to cook, knowing you would have ended up burning most of the food.
“Can you at least pay attention to the ones at the bar? Jo can handle the floor today,” Ellen told you, again sounding worried.
“I’ll try,” you sighed, glancing at the men sitting there.
There was no point in apologizing again. As you began taking care of the drinks, the bell over the door dinged, signifying yet another customer. Typically, you wouldn’t have even looked up, but something pulled at you.
It was three men, none of whom you recognized, and two of them looked to be around your age, with the third being older. All three of them sat at the bar, so you went over to get them drinks.
“What’s your poison?” you asked, putting on that fake work smile and not really looking at them.
“Three beers,” the older of the three said, “And please tell Ellen to come over.”
You were slightly confused but agreed. You set their beers down in front of them, then went to find Ellen in the back. “Hey, there’s a guy out here that asked for you.”
“Did you get his name?” she asked as she dried her hands.
“No. He didn’t say. He’s with two other guys who are younger, though, if that helps?” you replied as you followed her out of the back room.
You stopped halfway down the bar, but you were still behind it, as she was now on the other side, making her way to the three of them. The older man stood, both he and Ellen smiling as they embraced in a hug, which confused you. You managed to keep up with the drinks for those at the bar but couldn’t hear what the four of them were talking about.
“Y/N, come down here and get these boys a refill,” Ellen hollered, motioning for you to go over to them.
Rolling your eyes, you did as she asked, putting on that fake smile again, “Here ya go.”
“Thanks, Sweetheart,” one of the two younger ones said to you with what looked to be a flirtatious smirk.
“Don’t be flirting with my niece, Dean. She’s still what you’d consider innocent,” Ellen scolded the one who had just spoken to you, but to you, it sounded more like a teasing sort of joking around, which made you slightly curious. “Thanks. Like I need some stranger to know that sort of thing,” you grumbled.
“Sweetie, these are the Winchesters. They’re practically family. You met them when you were little,” Ellen replied, smiling happily.
For a moment, you were somewhat dumbfounded as to what to even say. You couldn’t seem to remember meeting the three of them. Ellen introduced you to John Winchester, the father of Dean and Sam, who were four years apart in age.
“I hate to do it, Aunt Ellen, but, I need to talk to you about something before I leave in ten,” you finally told her.
“What’s up?” she asked, looking quite puzzled.
“I need to take some time off for a while,” you mumbled, feeling bad.
“Take all the time you need, sweetie. I know things have been rough for you lately,” she said softly, then she gave you a hug. “And tell that old fart to stop by sometime.”
“Thanks for understanding, and I will,” you replied, relieved as you hugged her back. Then you looked over at the Winchesters, “It was nice to have at least met the three of you since I don’t remember meeting you before now. Not sure when I’ll see you again, though.”
“How come?” John asked, seeming fairly curious.
“I’m going to be working my other job full-time for a while. It’s the love of my life, honestly,” you replied with a smile, giving John your full attention.
“What’s that, kid?” he asked, which made you wonder if perhaps he knew Bobby since Bobby called you that all the time.
“I fix cars. Hate to do it, but I have to run,” you replied quickly, heading for the door and out to your Baby. However, your heart about stopped when you saw the black 67’ Chevy Impala parked next to your Firebird.
“Damn…” you breathed out in quiet shock and awe.
Shit! I’m gonna be late.
With that thought, you shook your head, pulled your gaze from the car, and drove to Bobby’s garage for your shift. It indeed was a beautiful car, and you knew that no one in town drove one of those. Through deductive reasoning, you figured it had to belong to the Winchesters. You just weren’t sure which one. Whichever one it was, though, they loved that car, and you knew it with how well it had been taken care of.
The leaves on the trees were changing colors already, and the light breeze was finally cooler than the summer heat that you hated. However, you didn’t notice much today; you were too excited to give Bobby the news.
You knew the smile you couldn’t hide would give it away, but you stepped into his little office anyway. You didn’t even have time to say anything before he did.
Bobby was smiling from ear to ear when he looked up at you, “Nice to know Ellen didn’t give you a hard time about being here full time. You can whip those boys on the morning shift into shape for me.”
“Like they’d listen to me,” you chuckled but rolled your eyes.
“They better, since you’re gonna be their boss from here on out,” he told you seriously.
“Wait? What?” you asked, in complete surprise.
“Kid, you know your shit, and you’re good at your job. You’re better at your job than the four boys I got workin here already. I’d rather just have you than all of them 'cause I know you’d get the job done like it should be, and you never cut corners,” he explained, being completely serious.
“I- I don’t know what to say,” you stammered, still shocked.
“Just say thanks and be here at six tomorrow morning. Take the afternoon off and rest up,” he smiled.
You went over and wrapped him up in a hug. He knew the only reason you worked in the garage late was to avoid the boys he had working there in the morning. You had tried doing the dating thing after your sixteenth birthday, but realized quickly that no boy wanted anything to do with you.
That night, you were still smiling, even if you were apprehensive about being someone’s boss, let alone four grown men. People in the town were mostly courteous toward you but treated you like a plague of some sort since your soulmate's name never appeared on your body. 
—-------
As you got ready that morning, you attempted to calm your nerves, but it didn’t work. You gave yourself mental pep talks all morning and even on the drive, but that wasn’t helping either. Your heart was still racing as you parked out back like you usually did.
Bobby was the only one at the garage for the moment, and he even told you to breathe more than once. He explained that you’d still be working on cars, but now you’d also be keeping an eye on the boys he had working there and telling them when to take their breaks. It seemed simple enough.
Benny, Cas, Garth, and Jack were decent guys and were all friends. They’d spend time at the bar in the evenings when you were at the garage. It was how you had avoided a lot of people in the town since they really wanted nothing to do with you. The part you were worried about was interacting with them, as their boss. Bobby was standing next to you as the four of them arrived and mingled into the garage.
“Boys, meet your new boss,” Bobby said sternly, and all four of them looked up at you.
You were sure your heartbeat could be heard throughout the room as you froze under their gaze. The only one who didn’t look at you like you were a waste of space or something to avoid was Garth, and you made a mental note of that.
Something in you snapped with how they looked at you, and you laid into them before Bobby could comment on their expressions. “Look, I know that at least three of you would rather not work with me. I’m not a bitch, but I will be if I have to be. You don’t like this, there’s the door,” you told them sternly, putting your hands on your hips.
“Seriously?” Benny asked, annoyed. His Cajun accent was thick, and if it weren’t for his attitude, you probably could have listened to the man talk all day.
“Yes, Benny. She’s got the right to fire you if need be. I suggest you don’t give her a reason,” Bobby replied, crossing his arms, almost daring the man to challenge his decision.
Garth stepped forward, though, with that kind smile he always had, “I, for one, am looking forward to working with you, Y/N. You seem like a nice person, fair.”
Your expression instantly softened, and you smiled at him. “Thanks, Garth.”
“Alright, get to work,” Bobby told all of you before he headed into his office to keep an eye on things.
You turned from the four of them and headed toward the newest of the cars that had been brought in the day before. Your nerves were shot, but you were proud of yourself for standing up to the three of them. Pausing for a brief moment as you looked down at the car, you decided on something.
I’m gonna just be me. If they don’t like it, they can quit.
You turned on the radio to the classic rock station, then got to work on the car. Benny raised an eyebrow and just watched you silently before he got to work with the other three. It was odd for you with the other four working there, too. It was something you weren’t used to, but you found yourself keeping an eye on them, even while you worked.
An hour into the shift, Cas had stopped working and sat on one of the barstools, sipping some water. You watched him out of the corner of your eye for a few minutes while still focusing on your current task. Five minutes later, he was back to work. You took mental note of it and focused on your task again.
Each of them did that, taking turns to sit for a few minutes, have water, and then return to work. It puzzled you, but you weren’t ready to ask them why they did it, at least not yet. 
Just before nine, you heard it before you saw it. The beautiful purr of that Impala you had seen the night before. A smirk crossed your lips while you were unbolting the upper portion of the water pump for the current car in front of you. 
The Impala stopped, and then she was silent. You could clearly hear three sets of footsteps heading into the garage. The four boys erupted with greetings to the Winchesters, more Dean than the other two. Even Bobby joined in. 
So, they do know each other. Too bad the boys know them too. So much for maybe making a friend now.
You sighed and slid under the car, going for the bottom bolts now that the top ones were loose, completely ignoring the ruckus of greetings going on only about twenty feet away from you.
“Kid, you gonna come say hi?” you heard Bobby ask, and you realized he was standing next to you.
“I really wanted to get this finished, since the part finally came in, and this poor car has been sitting here for a week waiting,” you replied without moving out from under the car.
“Kid, don’t make me pull you outta there,” he told you a bit more sternly, and you knew he’d do it.
“Fine,” you grumbled, sliding out from under the car.
“So much for not running into you again, Sweetheart,” Dean smirked, which made you roll your eyes.
“Dean’s gonna be starting tomorrow morning. Dean, she’ll be your boss, so don’t try anything funny. She’s also practically my niece,” Bobby told him, far sterner than you’d heard him talk to anyone before, which only piqued your curiosity as to what their past entailed.
“I’ll behave, Bobby, I promise,” Dean told him, somewhat seriously. 
You noticed a small twinkle in not only Dean’s eye, but also in Bobby’s. It was like there was something they both knew but weren’t saying, at least not in front of you.
“You better, boy. I got no problems telling your dad and making him fire you,” Bobby replied, glancing at John.
That was when it hit you. You’d seen the initials JW on several different pieces of paperwork and even a couple of packages that had been delivered to the garage. John was Bobby’s partner in the business, and Dean was supposed to inherit it when John passed or retired. You were a bit surprised, though, that you had the power to fire the boss's son or at least write him up if you had to.
John’s laughter filled the garage at Bobby’s statement, “If I have to get involved, you’ll be in far more trouble than just losing your job.” There was a joke in there, but you could also hear the hint of seriousness in his tone.
What do the three of them know but aren’t saying around me? This is so frustrating.
“I said I’d behave,” Dean grumbled, crossing his arms and leaning against the car closest to him while the boys gave him a hard time. But it was there, even if only a hint of it, a smirk, and you noticed.
That was when John and Bobby both turned toward you, and for some reason, it made you nervous. “We’re having a little get-together tonight at Harvelle’s, and you’re invited. Sam graduated and is getting a full ride for law school, and that calls for a celebration,” John told you with a far softer smile than you thought the man was capable of.
“Uh, sure, I guess,” you replied, completely unsure of the idea of being around people who really wanted nothing to do with you.
“Good. Then we’ll see you there around say, seven?” John replied.
“Okay,” you answered, not sure what else to say.
Due to your attention being on John and Bobby, you missed the silent conversations going on between Dean, Sam, and the four grease monkeys on the far side of the garage. Dean was mostly watching you while Benny and Cas were telling him things, about you. Sam was also watching you, but his was more out of curiosity than anything else.
John and Bobby hung out in the office with the door closed for at least another hour. Dean and Sam were distracting the other four while they worked. You, well, you were changing out the water pump, ignoring all of them. It was what hurt the least. 
While you were tightening down the bolts under the car, you noticed a pair of feet standing next to you.
“You really don’t remember us, do you?” he asked.
“Sorry. I really don’t,” you answered, focusing on the bolt that was being a pain to get to.
“Wow. Kinda surprised since we went to the same schools and grew up in the same town,” he chuckled quietly, and you realized it was Sam and not Dean. Sam had a softer voice, and he didn’t call you sweetheart.
“I’m really sorry. I was kind of a loner,” you told him and finally got the bolt tightened down.
Sliding out from under the car and looking up at him, you felt like an ant with how tall he was. You shook off the feeling, got to your feet, and bent over into the engine so you could finish bolting the water pump in place.
“I remember. I heard about what happened, or uh, I mean- what didn’t happen when you turned sixteen,” he told you with that softness you were thankful for.
You shrugged your shoulders briefly, “Doesn’t matter. At least Bobby let me work here. All I ask is that you aren’t being nice to me out of pity. I’d rather be ignored.”
“I don’t pity you. I actually wanted to tell you something I found out while I was at college. It’s rare, like it only happens to one in a billion people. A traumatic event before the age of five can leave a child too scared to get their soulmate’s name when they turn sixteen,” he explained.
You froze where you were. It was more than anything you’d been able to find, and for a moment, you wanted to hope. You quickly brushed it away, though, remembering how badly you’d felt the last time you got your hopes up.
“You gonna keep going or just leave me hanging like that?” you asked, a little sharper than you intended.
Sam took a deep breath, and you missed him glancing at his brother momentarily, “Well, what I read said that the other person still gets their soulmate’s name. The one that went through the trauma has to fully heal from it before they get their soulmate’s name.”
You rolled your eyes, “Kinda hard to heal from something I don’t remember.”
“I just wanted you to know that me and my brother don’t see you like others do, and we’d like to be your friend, if you want,” he replied, then walked away to leave you to your thoughts.
Great. I don’t even know what to do to heal that sort of thing. I don’t even remember my parents. And now, the boss’s kids want to be friends with me. No, that can’t go horribly wrong, can it? Plus, I have to go sit through a celebration with people I don’t remember and others who want nothing to do with me, even if Ellen, Bobby, and Jodi will be there.
You focused on the car but finished it quickly before the Winchesters were even ready to leave. After wiping off your hands, you closed the hood and put the tools away before driving the car out to the finished area so it could wait for its owner to pick it up. When you headed back inside, your eyes were only on the office door, which was still closed. You didn’t see Dean watching you again.
“Hey, Bobby. Cars finished. I didn’t see anything else out back. What do you want me to work on?” you asked, setting the keys on his desk so he could get the paperwork together.
“How about you give Dean the tour? Show him where everythings at?” John suggested with a smirk before Bobby could say a word. “I figured Benny would do that, since they seem like friends,” you replied, not wanting to interrupt the six of them.
“I’m sure he could, but he won’t. You’re their boss. Comes with the territory,” John told you.
“Yes, Sir,” you replied in a slight mumble, heading back out of the office, closing the door, and then leaning on it.
As you crossed your arms, you watched the six of them. They looked like they were enjoying whatever conversation was happening between them, with Dean laughing at something he must have found funny. With a deep sigh, you walked over to them, slipping your hands into your pockets.
There was instant silence the moment you got close to them, but you didn’t let the hurt show, “John said I should give you a tour and show you where everything is,” you explained to Dean, not really looking at him.
Dean glanced at the office door then back down at you, “If that’s what my dad said, then lead the way, Sweetheart.”
Why does he have to keep calling me that? It’s not like he knows me. Maybe he calls all girls that, and it’s just his thing or something like that. 
“Yeah, not like you been in here a day of your life,” Benny teased him, which made you look up at Benny, confused. “Huh?” was the only word you could manage.
“Oh yeah, Dean’s been working in here since he was knee-high to a grasshopper,” Cas chuckled, teasing Dean.
Your gaze went from each of them and then to Dean, tilting your head in a fair amount of confusion. Dean rubbed the back of his neck nervously and looked away from you.
“What’s wrong, Dean? Worried she’ll figure it out?” Benny stated.
“Figure what out?” you asked as Dean glared at Benny.
“Nothing,” Dean snapped, still glaring at Benny.
So, Dean’s got some secret he doesn’t want me to know about. 
“Do you still want that tour I’m supposed to give you?” you asked with a sigh, looking more at the floor than anywhere else.
“Dean, you were here less than a month ago. Did you really forget where everything is already?” Cas teasingly asked him.
You’d had enough, so headed out of the garage, tossing your hands up and hollering, “Never mind,” just before making it outside. Once you made it to your car, you texted Bobby and told him you were heading home since there weren’t any more cars to work on at the moment.
The six of them watched as you drove past the garage entrance and then down the driveway. You missed Dean punching Cas in the jaw. You missed John and Bobby going off on Benny and Cas. You also missed Dean going off on Benny. You were too pissed and hurt to even look back.
Bobby didn’t text you back, but you knew if he had an issue or needed you at the garage, he would have said so. The moment you got home, you went straight for the punching bag, needing to get the anger out of your system so you could shower.
How am I gonna get out of tonight? Can I even get out of tonight? Probably not. I’ll have to show up, at least. I can always leave early, though, right? 
You groaned at the thought of having to be around people, knowing full well that getting out of it, even early, was going to be difficult. At least you weren’t required to dress up any, so you went for a pair of black jeans, a dark blue shirt, and your favorite deep green flannel pulled over it. At the garage, you typically had your hair pulled back, but for tonight, you left it down.
Parking near the back of Harvelle’s Bar & Grill, you were just staring at the building, dreading going inside and having to “people,” as you called it. The sun had already set, and the darkness was allowing the glimmer of stars to be seen in the night sky, but you didn’t notice them, just the bar in front of you.
----------------------------------------- Chapter 2 - Coming soon
Story Master List Main Master List
Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @jamerlynn @jackles010378 @bruhidkjustwannaread @onthehuntforshinies
If you'd like to be tagged, drop me a comment.
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wolffoxnation2 · 4 months
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The absolute Loki slander in The Sword of Summer when he hasnt even done anything (yet) is hilarious to me.
Everyone is absolutely bullying this poor lad and he's just sitting there eating his purple pop tarts and talking to Magnus.
Gunilla: Loki and his spawn are pure evil and want to cause Ragnarok.
Samirah: My father is evil and i hate him.
Odin: Loki is not to be trusted he is pure evil! and manipulative and wants to start Ragnarok!
Meanwhile Loki: *eating poptarts and sitting on odin's throne* I dont wanna start Ragnarok, im having too much fun, you should probably not bring the sword to the place where its fated to start Ragnarok, bud. You should leave it with your uncle who is a Viking nerd and would probably love it. Also fuck the gods, they suck. Also i like you Magnus, youre funny :)
So this:
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(From Hammer of Thor) was just uneeded.
(also funfact we dont actually know what Loki is the god of. The fire giant thing was him being mixed up with Logi, a fire giant/god)
The worst thing he does in the first book is hold Rudolph's—Randolph fuck, whatever his name is— family hostage and burn him. But Magnus doesn't know that yet so theres not any reason for him to be hostile, infact Magnus has littarly expressed feeling sorry for Loki when Loki tells him about his punishment.
Also how is Thor the first, and likely only god to say that Loki isn't pure evil
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redsray · 23 days
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i do love the idea of the wayne kids giving bernard shovel talks about taking care of tim and all that but also give me batfam who are just as protective of bernard as they are of each other.
give me bernard, attending his first wayne gala as tim's significant other. having a suit custom tailored and funded by bruce even if bernard insists it's not necessary because he already has one. arriving at the gala anxious because of course he is, it's a goddamn socialite event, but being protected from every side by the wayne kids even when tim is dragged away.
Socialite: Oh, and who might you be?
Bernard: Oh, um, hi. I'm Bernard Dowd, nice to meet you.
Socialite: Dowd? I've never heard of your family before. Who...?
Bernard: I'm not here with my family, miss, I'm here with my boyfriend.
Socialite: ... Boyfriend?
Bernard: Yeah, I'm here with Tim.
Socialite, frowning: Tim... as in Drake-Wayne? He has a boyfriend?
Dick, coming up next to Bernard: He sure does! Bernard here is practically one of ours now, aren't you? He matters to Timmy, so he matters to us.
Bernard: Dick—
Dick: C'mon, let's get you back to Timmy. Farewell, Mrs!
Bernard: I could've handled that.
Dick: All the rules that apply to my siblings during galas apply to you too. I'm sure you could've, but you shouldn't have to. I've got your back too, now, yeah?
Bernard: ... Yeah. Thanks, Dick.
Jason, coming up to Bernard at the bar: Not to freak you out, kid, but there's a guy starin' at ya from the other side of the bar. Y'know him or should I encourage him to look away?
Bernard, startled: Huh? (looks around) Oh. No, I don't know him. Why... is he looking at me like that, actually?
Jason, scowling: 'S just how the slimy fuckers at these events are. Can't keep their eyes off anything that's small, young or pretty. Disgusting. I'll deal with him— where's your annoying other half gone, inferior blondie?
Bernard: Tim? He got pulled away for quote; 'something important' by some lady. He said he'll meet me here after he's done, so I've been waiting.
Jason: Huh. If I see him I'll point him yer way. Hey, don't be 'fraid to ask any of us questions or for help if ya need it. We know the best how daunting this shit can be.
Bernard, genuinely touched: ... Thanks, Jason.
Jason: Yeah, yeah. Don't tell Timmers I said that, though, he'll call me a loser.
Bernard, laughing: I won't.
Bernard, being talked to by several people at once and a bit overwhelmed by the attention: Uh— I'm—
Damian, stepping between him and the socialites: Dowd. I require your assistance.
Bernard: Um— hi, Damian— with what?
Damian: You will see when we get there. Follow me, Drake's more tolerable half.
Bernard: Okay... so what do you need from me?
Damian: Nothing. You seemed to dislike the attention from all of the nosy adults over there. It was the most efficient way of extracting you from the situation.
Bernard: Oh. Thanks, Damian.
Damian: Tt, don't thank me yet, Dowd. I am still criticising your choice in romantic partners.
Bernard: Didn't you threaten me with a katana to not dampen Tim's mood in any way shape or form?
Damian: Slander. I said quote 'if you make Drake more annoying by breaking his heart I'm going to maim you.' I don't see how you got the message you did from that.
Bernard, grinning: Sure, Damian. Sure.
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luveline · 1 month
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JADEEEE i'd love to see an interaction between hotch and teacher!reader outside of school? maybe jack sees her first and step away from hotch for a moment to say hi, hotch gets scared when he realizes jack left but reader comes with him just a moment later because she's panicking too like 'why are you alone? where's your dad?' and jack takes her to him. is that ok??? i hope so! love you <3333
I love you ty for your request! —Hotch flirts with Jack’s favourite teacher, because he’s never as subtle as he should be. fem, 2k
Jack reads a couple of books a week now his dad is home more often. His mom used to read to him some because he loves them, but she preferred to tell her own on the fly. His dad isn’t as good a story teller, and when he does try the stories don’t end up very happy, so they read. Sometimes two or three books a night if they're short ones. 
With Jack’s library card they can borrow ten books. With his dad’s, another ten. Twenty altogether, enough to last the month if they’re careful or if dad gets called away a lot, which he usually does. 
“Can I look for Super Pup?” Jack asks his dad. 
Aaron sits on a chair a little too small for him in the kids section. “What?” he asks, looking up from the back of the large picture book Jack’s just handed him. 
“Super Pup?” 
“I’ll help, buddy.” Hotch looks like he’s going to stand, then hesitates. “In a second. Don’t go where I can’t see you, Jackers.” 
Hotch is tired. He didn’t come home until very late, but he’d woken Aunt Jess anyway and, when Jack woke, there his dad was sleeping in the beanbag by his bed. He’s sore all over now and exhausted from a restless night. Jack feels sorry, as much as he can for being six nearly seven, but he also knows that his dad doesn’t mind the hurting. It was nice to wake up together after a few days apart. 
And now he’s brought him to the library, and after that they’ll go for groceries. Jack should be quick. If they get home before dinner time his dad will ask him if he wants to nap together, which is the best. They just lay there in the big bed with the fan on and snooze until it’s too late to cook, so his dad breaks out the takeout menus, and promises he won’t do it again with a quick hug from behind. 
As though it makes him a terrible parent for feeding his kid. Jack can’t know how guilty it makes Hotch feel to do it, and Hotch doesn’t seem to notice how much Jack loves these days where his dad is exhausted and totally his. 
Jack runs around looking for Super Pup. Hotch’s phone beeps in his pocket, and he fights to keep his eyes open.
A ways away, you browse the fiction section in a crouch, knees somehow totally under your skirt, flicking aside spines of skinny books for something you can read at lunch time. Something that doesn’t require much attention, and could be read in short intervals. You used to demand a half hour to yourself when you first started teaching, but that was before the lonely kids started cropping up. Kids with no friends, or sad smiles, who want company and quiet alike. 
You reach for a pink-spined Japanese translation as a little hand pats your elbow. You’re so used to kids you say, “What’s up?” before you remember you aren’t at work. 
You turn in your crouch to look behind you. “Oh, hi, Jack! What are you doing here?” 
“Me and dad are looking for books.” 
You smile at him genuinely, happy to see your favourite student, even if you’re terrified on the inside at the prospect of his father. He’s the most gentlemanly man you’ve ever met. He’s arduous in how respectful he is, he’s understanding, and he’s tall, dark, and handsome. It is a chilling collection of traits. You stumble whenever you have to talk to him. 
But Jack is easy. You and Jack talk every day. “What sorts of books? Just for fun?” 
“I want to read Super Pup.” 
The kids love Super Pup and his magic bark. You stand promptly, suddenly much taller than Jack as you brush down your skirt. “Wait,” you say. Mr. Hotchner gets called away for work all the time, but he wouldn’t leave Jack alone, would he? “Where’s your dad? You’re not by yourself, are you?” 
Jack laughs. “No! I’m looking for Super Pup! Dad’s tired.” 
You can’t decipher exactly what those two things have to do with each other, but you can guess how panicked his dad will be to find Jack so far from the kid’s section. Fiction is the other side of the library. “How did you end up over here?” You offer your hand. “Should we go back and find your dad?” 
“I saw your skirt, Miss L/N. I like the flowers.”
He takes your hand, clumsy to your gentleness. “Thanks, honey. Let’s go find dad before he calls his scary friends and has your name on the news.” 
You get to the kids section slowly. Endearingly so, but nerve-wracking, too, because Mr. Hotchner can be intimidating. Jack likes holding your hand, you think, clinging to your fingers as he guides you across the library, past the staircase down to the first floor, and back to the kids section. 
“Jack?” Mr. Hotchner asks loudly, turned away from you both near the graphic novel selection. “Jack.” 
“Mr. Hotchner,” you say. 
“Dad!” 
He spins on his heel. His shoulders relax noticeably, but the stress in his gaze remains. 
“Jack, I said stay where I can see you,” he says, not half as scolding as he could be as Jack lets go of your hand and runs to his legs, where he stops. “Please, buddy. You gotta listen to me.” 
Jack turns between you and his dad with a smile, “But look, it’s Miss L/N.” 
“I can see,” he says softly. 
Mr. Hotchner leans down, taking Jack up into his arms with impressive ease, and begins the walk to you where you’ve stayed. 
“I hope he didn’t interrupt you,” he says. 
“Please,” you say, “he’s my favourite. Just–” You wince. “Don’t tell anybody at school I said that, Jack. Please.” 
“I think we can keep this secret,” Mr. Hotchner says. 
“He was just telling me that you’re looking for Super Pup. If you don’t find it, we have copies at the school library. And we can always order you one.” 
Mr. Hotchner gives you a small, and what you know to be rare, smile. “I don’t think he even looked.” 
“I did look!” Jack disagrees, though his disagreement barely has any attitude to it, a credit to his upbringing. 
“You clearly weren’t looking in the right place.” 
“I was too. How would you know, you were sleeping!” 
“I wasn’t sleeping,” Mr. Hotchner says to you. 
You tuck your hands behind your back. “It’s okay, Mr. Hotchner, I believe you. In my classroom we like to say we’re resting our eyes.” 
“Aaron,” he says, as he says whenever you speak to each other, and as you always forget to call him. Not a demand but a suggestion you’d swear to be bordering affectionate. 
You’ve been Jack’s teacher for two months this year, and almost the entire year previously. In the summer when they leave, you’ll find out if you’re moving up a grade with him, but until then, you’ve made the most of such a nice kid, and you aren’t shy to tell that to Aaron. You don’t mind that Jack spends his lunch time with you. He embodies all of the reasons that pushed you to become a teacher in the first place. 
And his father is a good reason to stay. He’s one of the only nice (hot) dads. 
You do worry often that he can read your expression. His lips have quirked into a bemused smile, what’s so funny? He’s terrifying. 
“Aaron,” you rush to say, and fill the silence you’ve made, “It’s nice to see you.” 
“It’s nice to see you, too. You’ll see me on Monday, so you’ll be sick of me by Tuesday.” 
You rock ever so gently on your heels. “You aren’t working.” 
“It’s Jack’s birthday.” 
You nod, pleased. “I know! I know, we already talked about what cupcakes he wants, didn’t we? Everybody’s gonna have rainbow sprinkle, and for a treat we’re going to watch a movie before lunch.” 
“Do you do that for every kid?” 
“I do.” 
“How do you afford it?” He lowers his gaze. “I just mean, it’s expensive to do that for every birthday.” 
“Luckily for me and unluckily for the kids, quite a few of them have birthdays outside of term time. Thirty students is three trays of ten, and that doesn’t usually break the bank, even if things get tight. But… I don’t know, I guess I just have to make room when it does. It’s special to feel special, and,” —you smile, exuberant and a little shy at once, clutching your elbow in your hand— “Jack always makes everybody else feel special. ” 
The boy in question turns into his fathers chest, pleased beyond words. 
Aaron gives you a long, long look. “Thank you,” he says. 
“Oh, you’re welcome.” 
You say goodbye to Aaron and Jack and wish them both a good weekend, which you spend wondering what the pressure of Aaron’s hand would be like on your shoulder, and if you should be ashamed of yourself for thinking about it at all. He seems like he’d give a good hug. You catch yourself picturing him opening a door and ban yourself from thinking of him at all. 
Monday morning, you stand at the door ushering your students inside, and you can’t help beaming when Jack and Aaron arrive. 
“Aw, Jack, where’s your birthday badge?” you ask, fall air nipping your nose. 
“He was feeling too shy,” Aaron says. He’s in casual dress again. Some men should be banned from half-zips, it’s inhumane. 
“You were?” You bend just a bit, hand in your pocket. “Well, I thought you might be, so I brought my badge from home. It’s super shiny, bud. What do you think?” 
You show Jack the badge, It’s My Birthday in silver against a rainbow backdrop. 
Maybe it was silly to bring, but you had a feeling he wouldn’t want to wear one, and maybe he should. He deserves for all his friends to give him some attention, and to have them fight over who gets to sit with him at lunch. 
“We have something for you,” Jack says. 
You stand straight. “You do?” 
Aaron hadn’t been expecting to be the one to give it to you, that much is obvious. He hesitates for a second before he passes you a small brown box, the top of which is made up of four leaves folded into a dome. You have an inkling of what it might me. 
“Thank you… Can I open it now?” you ask. 
“I think you should wait for lunch,” Aaron says. 
You raise your eyebrows but abide by his suggestion, murmuring another thank you as Aaron bends to give Jack a hug. “Have a good day. I’ll be here to pick you up, I promise,” he says.
It’s a great day. The kids are excited for cupcakes and overjoyed to get them before lunch. Not a crumb goes uneaten, and as they all sing for Jack with his borrowed badge, he’s actually happy for the attention. He doesn’t eat with you at lunch, which is a great thing even if you love his company. 
Alone, you fold back the leaves of your mysterious box and smile like an idiot when you confirm what’s inside. A cupcake slightly more sophisticated than rainbow sprinkle spreads icing across the brown carrier, and a business card leans against the other side. 
The front of the card is as you’d expected it to be spelling out Aaron’s contact details from work, and you combust thinking he wants you to call him, but it’s the back that you’d been meant to see. You read it as you fold down the leaves of the cupcake carrier, 
Thirty students, three trays of ten. What does that leave for you? —Aaron. 
Flirt, you think firmly, happily. He’s such a flirt. 
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evilminji · 3 months
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Been Watching Weird Fruit Explorer(?)... and I just...
W-Who let Bored Danny have BooTube?
Sorry, YOU-Tube. He has TWO Apps now. BooTube is bigger. Way more random, yet... somehow more niche? Meh. It's what happens when you get billions of billions of people who all have their own Obsessions to rant over, on a site.
Ember's channel is pretty lit, tho, ngl.
He stopped using YOU-Tube almost overnight. Too many ads, weird algorithmic pushiness. No thanks. It was too small and too "trying to take my money". You know?
Buuuuut? See.... TUCKER is the Tech guy.
Coding and that sort of stuff. HE does hands on work. You want a toaster? He can MAKE you a toaster! With LAZERS! Runs off The Goo! But a program? Eeeeeeeh? Hit it with hammer maybe? Monkey make fire? Hit with stick? Blergh.
Yeah, he can SORTA push through.
But he suuuucks.
And like... he had a headache, okay? His project had just, quiet literally, exploded in his face. So when he looked at his phone? All the apps were blobs. He clicked the one that LOOKED kinda right. Shoved his arm in his phone and brute forced a channel set up.
He figured he could ramble about Space!
It's not like he cared is anyone LISTENS or not! It's a "for him" thing, you know? Like a diary. But more... putting on a ☆~show~☆?
So he rambles from the floor of his Lair's Lab, crashs and wails in the distance, green sky occasionally visible as he lazily floats by windows. Dropping... juuuust past human knowledge understanding of Space. Talking like he's STUDYING somewhere. Referencing PAPERS no human will ever be able to find.
But a few they WILL.
Some of which, are currently? Only half written.
But then? Oh YEAH... he should eat! You know... Sam keeps bringing him fruits and veggies and stuff from her internship at that Botanical Lair. Stuff never seen before of Earth. Or hasn't been seen in centuries.
Again, like, a FEW that? Randomly? Have???
He picks up something sharply purple, bright orange insides. Crisp crunch. He makes a face. And starts to ramble about it, distracted from Space. "Weirdly mushroom-y" he notes. "Kinda bubblegum sweet? But like... CHEAP bubblegum. Like it hits you all at once and is kinda chemically. But it disappears real fast? Huh. Spicy too..."
It's the first video on the Playlist. One of hundreds. Two of the green Lanterns RECONIZE that fruit ad HIGHLY toxic to humans, can't recognize what planet they're seeing. Or how this alien teen got himself on YouTube.
He seems... unaware of how incredibly famous he's become.
But his strange techno Pharoah friend has not. HE is both perfectly aware and apparently amused. Has taken to feeding him rare and hazardous flora and fauna, to see if it tastes good.
....there have been an alarming number of plants from dead planets.
And the comments the kid makes? Alarming as hell.
Sam's just pleased everybody's getting their greens. Danny's glad him n tuck get to hang and do "try weird foods and fuck around, bro time". They've made lazers! Talked about stuff! Debated why Martian Manhunter is THE superior Justice League member.
Danny understands. Wonder Woman is a BAMF. But he's biased, Tucker. He doesn't CARE if she has a sword and flowy, impressive locks! Shape-shifting telepath! From MARS!!! *imaginary mic drop*
And Tucker? Is conquering the YouTube scene with this charming, weird, relatable young alien. Who rambles about Space, debates nerd stuff, eats weird plants and describes them, and makes sci-fi technology! Theme? WHAT THEME? Phantom is a weird channel, man. You never know what you'll find!
And no one can get rid of it.
Believe them, governments have TRIED. Censorship? Not possible. Not without removing the whole SITE.
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sttoru · 9 months
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toji making suggestive comments towards reader infront of newborn megumi, then reader getting mad at him telling him to never do it again 😭😭
⟣ tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff + suggestive themes. reader gets called ‘mama’.
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“don’t start.”
you knew it — just by taking one glance at your husband from your seat at the couch — you knew toji was up to no good. his hands in the pockets of his shorts, eyes half lidded whilst checking you out and the corner of his lip curled up into a menacing grin; he was seconds away from making inappropriate comments about you, to you.
“ain’t said nothin’ yet.” toji shrugs, smirk still in place. he sits down next to you on the couch and looks down at the baby who was curled up on your chest.
it was an adorable picture; to see the mother of his child being so nurturing and caring, so loving and content. it was an every day sight, yet those mundane moments intensified the urge to take you to the bedroom and shower you with his. . . affection.
megumi babbles something in the meantime, his saliva creating a wet spot on your shirt — which you don’t mind since you’ve gotten used to it, “what is it, ‘gumi? hmm? cutie.”
you giggle and tickle your little son gently. your focus was entirely on him instead of toji, who had already snuck an arm around your waist by the time you realised the proximity. his breath tickled your ear;
“you look so fuckin’ sexy right now, mama.”
you gasp in response. not at the seductive and flirtatious words your husband had whispered, but rather at the fact that he cussed in front of megumi. you made it a household rule — to try and swear less in front of your child. and yet there toji goes, breaking that rule a week after its made.
“toji. what’d i say about cussing in front of your child?” you warn with a glare, but that does nothing more than turn toji on more. he loved it when you bossed him around or had an attitude.
megumi’s babbles and coos had died down eventually. he was more engrossed by the way his parents were interacting in front of him. you didn’t seem as ‘happy’ with toji’s words, however, and that made the emergency alarms in the little baby’s head go off;
“bwah! bwah!” megumi’s smacks toji’s thigh with his tiny hand. the impact wasn’t rough, but the sound of the slap on toji’s bare skin sure made it seem like it was.
you grin as megumi comes to your ‘rescue’. the small slaps didn’t seem to stop until toji gave up and defeatedly redrew from you—scooting just a few inches away from his son and wife.
“got what you deserved.” you lightheartedly comment to your husband. megumi didn’t seem to stop there; the kid sticks his tongue out towards his father’s direction for a split second—rubbing salt into the wound.
“watch it, megumi. i’ll fight ya if it means i get y’r mommy’s attention.” the dark-haired man jokes with a smirk tugging at his lips, his fist gently and carefully making contact with megumi’s chubby cheek. the little boy huffs and instantly tries to nibble onto toji’s knuckles, which was incredibly adorable.
“oh-ho? seems like i finally have an opponent worth fighting. .” toji comments before lifting his hands up in the air, fingers bent at the knuckles, teeth bared — re-enacting a scary monster creature of some kind,
you watch the two with amusement; megumi wasn’t backing down at all and was flailing his arms in the air as toji slowly approaches him again, making tiny noises in protest. your husband was also making some noises, though less. . . cute. his were more growling like—it showed the dedication to his role, at least.
“got’cha! c’mere,” toji grins as he suddenly grabs and lifts megumi up in the air; putting him in air-jail as he likes to call it. the baby kicks and squeals, trying its best to get out, “now—are ya gonna let me show mama some affection or should we do this the hard way?”
megumi protests once more like he actually knows what was said to him and kicks his legs frantically, causing both toji and you to laugh at your baby’s antics.
you sat back and watch the two go back and forth like that for a good while, enjoying the moment. you felt all giddy seeing them interact and wanted nothing more than to kiss and cuddle with both.
and of course, you wished that precious moments like these would never come to an end any tjme soon.
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churipu · 3 months
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SURPRISE COOKIES FOR MAMA 𓆝 ⋆。𖦹°‧
ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. nanami kento x female! reader
ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. both of you have a three year old daughter, broken conversations from your daughter bcs she's a kiddo, i'm leaving all of you to name your daughter.
note. midterm week, i'm going to try uploading, but if i don't, just know that it's not me ignoring my wips or you. love you all mwah <33
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"this me!" (daughter) pointed at an old picture of . . . a young you with a blue thin strap floral sun dress posing cutely in front of the camera — a big smile on your face, showing off your pearly whites, "i pretty."
nanami who had his back leaning on the couch could only muster out a soft chuckle, he had his hand on the young girl's small waist to hold her up right; preventing a tumble or two, "that's mama. she looks lovely, doesn't she?"
(daughter) craned her head up to face nanami, her e/c doe eyes blinking, ears unbelieving that the portrait was her mother, "mama? no, this me! i so pretty," she pointed her chubby finger towards the portrait, which is undeniably almost as big as she is.
"mhm, that's mama," nanami caressed his daughter's head lovingly, "you do look a lot like mama, you know?" he whispers, eyeing the portrait (daughter) had laying on her small lap.
half a decade ago — nanami told himself that he isn't fit to be a family man; he swore the both of you talked about kids, and how you'd both wait at least until later on into the marriage. but (daughter) was a surprise pregnancy, and the best thing that has ever happened to the both of you.
"this no mama, this me papa," (daughter) pouts, her soft lips puckering out slightly.
nanami used his free hand to flip the photo album, showing a picture of (daughter) as a newborn. a pink colored bandana around her small head, eyes shut in content, "this is you the day you were born," he cooed out, letting his daughter take in the picture.
what a bundle of joy she is. nanami remembered every second he spent inside the delivery room by your side — letting you dig your fingers inside his flesh, because he knew the pain that you were going through at that moment couldn't compare to anything else that he was feeling. all he cared about was you and his daughter.
"this me?" (daughter)'s meek voice resounds. nanami nodded, eyes gazing into his daughter's doe ones, "i so pretty."
nanami smiled warmly, "yes, you are pretty, just like mama," he compliments; pinching her chubby cheeks gently, "it still surprises me how you're an exact copy of your mama . . ." he pats her head, his palm engulfing her whole head.
(daughter) nods her head vigorously, "mama and me twins!" she cheers happily, kicking her feet.
the male chuckles, "mhm, twins," he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her up — standing as he puts the picture album on top of the coffee table that sat in the middle of your living room, "mama's coming home soon."
"we take cookies out of cooler, papa," (daughter) pats her father's cheeks gently before wrapping an arm around his neck to hook herself close to nanami, "warm for mama."
nanami vaguely remembered the day he passed by a baking class near his office. where he first saw you, holding onto a young boy's hand — no younger than six years of age, guiding him to whisk what seemed to be cake batter. he stood out of the glass pane, staring into the class for at least the next three minutes out of his twenty-four hours just to look at you.
he thought you looked pretty (and the display cake looked pretty as well, but that was besides the point).
but he never saw you again until three months later at the same place, and you noticed him. surprising. considering he was staring yet again for the second time. but he didn't think that you'd go out your way to talk to him right at that moment — and he was thankful you did.
"mhm, we're going to warm it up for mama," with ease, nanami opened the cooler and grabbed a plate of messily made classic chocolate chip cookies wrapped with saran wrap. (daughter) contributed to most of the procedure, and nanami thought it was the third most beautiful thing besides you and her. he's a proud dad.
the process of warming the cold cookies was short — with (daughter) prepped on top of the counter, with nanami's arms right by her sides. the two of them smiling at each other in silence, waiting for the oven to let out the satisfying 'ding!', hopefully before you came through the door.
unfortunately, things don't always go the way he wanted. and there you were, with your usual (color) coat slung over your arm, heaving out an exhausted sigh, mumbling out a soft, "i'm home."
(daughter)'s head turn to face the door, eyes widening in panic as she then faced nanami, "mama home, papa," she whispers, covering her mouth to hold back a loud giggle.
nanami nuzzled his nose into hers, "want to go hide from mama?"
the young girl nods her head, almost immediately wrapping her arms around her father's neck, "go go go, papa, hide, hide!" she whispers, giggling as she fit her small face into the crook of nanami's neck.
nanami laid a hand behind his daughter's head, he passed by you who had just walked through the short hall leading towards the living room, sending out a slight signal through his eyes as he walks into (daughter)'s sage colored room. he laid the young girl down onto the rugged floor, "go go, hide from mama."
the girl wasted no time scurrying under her bed, giggling softly. on the other hand, nanami walked out of her room with a small smile, approaching you.
"something smells good," you greet the male, opening your arms for a hug. i mean — what else do you need after a long day of work besides a warm hug from your husband?
nanami's arms felt like a blanket engulfing your body, he buckled his knees slightly to press a short kiss on your lips, "(daughter) has your baking abilities, 'm not surprised. good day at work?"
you nod, "tiring day, a boy spilt heavy cream all over the floor and his mother blamed us for it," nanami's face hardened a bit after hearing your story, "she practically went on a cursing spree in front of the kids, the cops had to restrain her."
the male grazed his finger on your cheek, "i'm sorry about that, she didn't hurt you, did she?"
you shook your head, "no worries, where's my baby, hm?"
nanami pinched your nape gently, "she wanted to surprise you with her cookies, she's in her room hiding. go see her and i'll be there with the cookies, yes?"
"you're too nice to me," you jokingly said.
"just to you," he rolled his eyes, brushing his lips over the hollow of your nose, "go, go. she's waiting for you."
you pulled yourself away from his embrace, putting your coat on top of the kitchen's counter before sauntering over to (daughter)'s room, knocking on her door. which resulted in an indubitable string of laughter from your own blood and flesh from under the bed, "baby? where're you?"
her soft and hushed giggles didn't stop when you step inside her room, "are you . . ." you pretended to open the closet, "here!"
and (daughter) stifled back a laugh when you failed to find her. and the next attempt, you squat down to eye under the bed, "there you are," her loud laughs finally chimed out, "give mama a hug, please?"
the young carbon copy of you crawled out from under the bed, immediately rushing to your lap to give you a warm hug, "i miss mama . . ." she pressed a kiss to your cheek, "mama miss me?"
you cradled her body back and forth, "mama misses you so much."
"i have surprise for mama," (daughter) abruptly pulled back from the hug, "surprise cookies for mama!"
the scent of chocolate entered your nostrils as nanami walked inside the room with a plate of freshly warmed chocolate chip cookies, "it's not a surprise anymore when you tell mama about it, isn't it?" he asks with a slight chuckle.
"'ts okay, mama still surprised. i bake cookies with papa," (daughter)'s eyes twinkled with happiness when nanami laid the plate down on the floor, "i bake cookies like mama. try try mama!"
and so you did, "'ts so yummy, good job, baby!"
nanami tugged on your arm towards him, slithering an arm around your waist, "'f course she did, you're her mama, y'know?" the male leaned in to place a short kiss to the tip of your nose.
(daughter) shrieks out, "papa cooties!"
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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mieczyslawsravenclaw · 3 months
Text
Eidetic Memory Be Damned -Spencer Reid
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•Pairing - Spencer Reid x FemFBIAgent!Reader
•Rating - 18+, Minors DNI - Smut - NSFW!!!
•Summary/Prompt - Spencer is tired of only having the memory of you to enjoy during his spicy times , so he just has to intrude into your hotel room after a case is finished…
•Warnings/Content - p in the v unprotected (hey kids- DONT DO IT) ; cursing ; Spence loves to beg to nut in you and does so ; creampie ; some pain play? (just a lil hand on the throat dealio and some hair pulling) ; LOTS of praise on both sides (good boy, pretty girl, etc) ; very mf horny lol ; (basically they do just about everything from first base to last bestie slay)
•Word Count - 3.3k
•Authorʼs Note(s) - Iʼm so mf rusty at writing smut so this is probs not the best, I just wanted to write some Spencer spice cause I had a spicy dream about him lmao RIP >_< Also this'll be my first official post of my writing on Tumblr slayyyyy
•Additional Tags - Switch!Spencer , Switch!Reader , Spencer is a needy brat LMAO , Team has ‘no ideaʼ you two are hooking up (Be so mf fr they do) , Good aftercare is so valid , Spencer loves being cuffed and teased muahaha
As much as this last case had taken out of me, I was more than happy to get to spend some time in my hotel room while the jet refueled and everyone got their bearings. Itʼs not home - far from it, Iʼd been missing my own bed for the majority of our time here in whatever state it was now - but at least it was something.
But of course, the reprieve wouldnʼt last long - a sharp knock on my door confirmed that, about 20 minutes after Iʼd laid down to sleep.
“What…ˮ I groan, frustratedly looking over at the clock.
The knock, again, more persistent this time. And I recognize its pattern now, three short tap-taps. Spencer.
My heartbeat, despite my minor annoyance at being woken up, is hammering now. Spencer seems to do that to me, from the moment Iʼd realized I have feelings for him, carrying into whatever it is that we are now. Secret trysts that Iʼm sure are no secret to our team members, especially Garcia, because sheʼd pried it out of me almost immediately and now waits in her dark little room with nothing else but excitement for the latest updates on us, it seems.
“Are you awake?ˮ A gentle but still much-too-loud voice asks.
I tumble out of bed, rushing to the door. I donʼt even have time to make sure I look okay - Iʼm much too worried about anyone else hearing him. The door is unlocked and pulled open in record time, a stunned lanky man quickly and semi-quietly forced inside.
“Spence, someoneʼs gonna hear you if you keep on like that.ˮ I chastise him, shutting and locking the door behind us. No sooner have I done so, than his lithe form overtakes me, nestling into the crook of my neck with a groan that seems both relieved and not relieved at all.
“Donʼt care,ˮ He pushes me back, until my legs meet the mattress and fold. Quickly following on top of me, he sighs, “Been too long. I miss you. You know I have an eidetic memory, yeah? Doesnʼt mean shit when Iʼm up late and even thoughts of you arenʼt enough to keep me satiated.ˮ
“Someoneʼs gonna-ˮ Hear, I want to say. He knows, of course he does. And Iʼm only half-complaining, with his lips at my neck and his leg sneaking up between mine the way he also knows.
“Donʼt care.ˮ He repeats, the low moan at the back of his throat breaking through into the silent room. “I told you I miss you. Should I tell you about what I use my memory for? And just how much that hasnʼt been enough lately? Or should I show you?ˮ
Itʼs clearly a rhetorical question, but still, he seeks the permission I am more than happy to grant.
“Tell me. Uh, show me. I mean-ˮ
“I can do both,ˮ Even in the dark, I know heʼs got that matter of fact smirk on his lips. He reaches down, holding me by the hip with one hand while the other slips into my pajamas, a practiced motion heʼs all too good at by now. “Usually this is what I remember first. The way your skin feels, how nice it is to make you tremble beneath my touch.ˮ
I buck up, and he chuckles.
“All too eager, arenʼt you? Clearly youʼve been thinking about it too, huh, pretty girl?ˮ A pointed question he knows Iʼll struggle to answer, with his hand and his voice torturing me so.
“No eid- identical- uh, no memory recall whatever for me.ˮ
“Still wouldnʼt satiate, I bet.ˮ He remarks, casually rubbing circles and patterns over my panties. This is how he operates, surely and with no warning. A gentle but firm kiss to my jaw, and he continues, “Itʼs like that for me, at least. I know no amount of recalling how you feel under me will be enough to match just how nice it is.ˮ
Heʼs right, and of course he is; I can barely handle the teasing, the tone his voice has taken in this short amount of time. And I currently dont care if weʼre heard, either.
“Spence-ˮ
“What is it, sweetheart? Too much for you? Not enough?ˮ
“Please?ˮ
“Words, honey. Youʼve gotta use your words. Or you can show me, Iʼm okay withthat too.ˮ He guides my hand down to his.
“More.ˮ I plead, working to undress myself before his hands take over.
“You only have to ask.ˮ
True to his word, Spencer pulls the fabric away, no longer allowing it to be a block between us. Itʼs lost somewhere in the sheets as he kisses me, his practiced hands no longer in the mood to tease. He slips a finger in, and when I let out a keening whine, another, his free hand going automatically to my mouth.
“Now as much as I say I donʼt care, youʼve gotta be a little quiet for me,ˮ He goads, knowing this will only make it harder for me to do so. His breath is hot in my ear, his fingers working a motion thatʼs both breaking pent up weeks old frustration, and yet causing more tension in my belly. “Much as I love your voice. Your sounds. The-ˮ
I rut up against him, my lips opening around his thumb. He works it into my mouth, his voice lowering even further.
“Cmon, show me how much you missed me, huh, princess?ˮ
I moan, words lost in my mind as it spins. Every tug of his fingers between my thighs is building a high Iʼm chasing, and when I get to this point, Iʼm not talking - he is. And he knows it, knows the right words to say to build and break me.
“This is what Iʼm after, this is what I canʼt just remember. Because itʼs all too much to remember how good it feels to destroy you.ˮ
Please, please. I canʼt hold off much longer.
“Now are you gonna cum for me, sweetheart?ˮ
I nod, lips opening and letting his hand free from my mouth as my breaths grow heavy. “Canʼt - Please, Spence, please-ˮ
He presses me further into the mattress, murmuring sweet and dirty nothings into my ear as the dam breaks and I ride my high. Iʼm far too sensitive following, and when I try to push him away for a moment, allow myself to collect some sort of reprieve before we continue, he chuckles lowly.
“See, I can recall that clear as day. But itʼs so much sweeter to have it happening in front of me, you know?ˮ He nestles in beside me, turning me to face him.
Nigh immediately, Iʼm reaching for his belt buckle. Of course he wouldnʼt have changed into comfortable clothes, not even this late- Iʼm sure this was his plan all along, and he tried to fight it as long as he could.
“Someoneʼs eager.ˮ He quips, the smirk growing.
“Youʼve got me thinking about it,ˮ I sigh, letting him maneuver himself out of the constricting clothing. “Coming over and getting me all hot and bothered. I really ought to…ˮ
“Ought to what?ˮ He goads, pulling me onto him with a low noise as we brush together. “Hmm? Are you gonna say…you ought to punish me?ˮ
I nod, rubbing back against him. He lets out a moan, hands gripping my hips tighter.
“I remember how that feels,ˮ He pulls me closer, voice dropping. “But for your sake, maybe you should refresh me.ˮ
When he reaches for me again, I pull back, pinning his hands down above his head. I know he could get out of it if he really wanted to - Iʼm strong, but not stronger than him - but he most certainly doesnʼt want to get out of it. And Iʼm enjoying it far too much to stop myself now.
“Whatʼre you gonna do, cuff me?ˮ He snaps, the bratty attitude far too practiced and already making me a soaking mess.
“I might.ˮ I reach for my pair, knowing all too well that heʼll absolutely lose it once I let go on him. I can hardly stand the anticipation. “Scared, Reid?ˮ
“Terrified. Please, donʼt. Iʼve been a good boy, I swear.ˮ
I push him back while he pleads, tightening the metal around his wrists. The look on his face, muffled as it is by the darkness of the room, is more than enough to spur me on.
“Not thinking about this at all, huh?ˮ I shed my top, if only for the knowledge that his inability to reach for my breasts drives him utterly insane. “And Iʼm sure you havenʼt spent many late nights with the memory of me riding you, have you? Havenʼt had your hands on that pretty cock of yours, thinking about how it feels when itʼs me, yeah?ˮ
“N-Not at all.ˮ
“Itʼs a shame, then.ˮ I tease, feeling him harden beneath me with every word. “Iʼll have to make you confess, I suppose.ˮ
His eyes follow my every move as I back up, slotting between his legs and bending down to kiss along his hips.
“Youʼll never get it out of me.ˮ He groans.
“Is that a promise or a challenge?ˮ I ask, not breaking eye contact as I place a kiss on his sensitive head.
“Challenge? Would I…challenge you?ˮ He still holds onto a moment of sanity, until I take him in my mouth, and itʼs lost with a sigh of, “Oh, would I.ˮ
I bob my head, my practiced motions coming in handy now. The usually-full-of- remarks Spencer Reid folds under my touch, soft deep moans and babble of confessions and wish I could pull your hair passing his lips while I work him out.
After a few moments of this, I let him free - at least from the torture of my lips.
“Where are you going? Please, I wanna cum for you, Iʼll tell you everything I did while I couldnʼt stand to wait for you.ˮ He keens.
“Oh, Iʼm far from done with you, Spence.ˮ I slowly, agonizingly slowly, climb back on top of him, making sure to back right up against him as he tightens against the cuffs. “Donʼt you worry, Iʼll have every measly confession pouring from you. You know I will.ˮ
“Please, let me out- Gotta touch you, I just gotta-ˮ
“Shh, be good for me, wonʼt you?ˮ I lift myself over his face, pressing my folds to his lips. “Unless you wanna stay in those forever.ˮ
He shakes his head, vibrating a ‘noʼ against me.
“Good. Now youʼre gonna pay your dues and clean up the mess youʼve made.ˮ
Eagerly, he laps at me like heʼs never had it before. His utter submissiveness overwhelms him, letting me ride his face to my hearts content. Words are muffled and entirely lost in it, and I know by now that the sounds Iʼm making alone will be heard, but I donʼt really care. Iʼm too far gone in how good it feels to finally have him making me cum again.
“Can I touch you now?ˮ
I slide back onto him, teasingly letting myself rest with just the edge of him pressing into my folds.
“Can you?ˮ I look pointedly at his wrists.
“I-oh, my god, clearly not, but-ˮ
“How about this?ˮ I amend. “You give me a confession, you get a reward. Sound fair?ˮ
“Yeah, sounds just fine. I couldnʼt get off without coming here, you realize that, donʼt you? Youʼre the only thing that gets me off anymo-Oh-ˮ His confession is cut short as I slide him a bit further in, just enough to spur him further. “I mean, I get off, donʼt get me wrong here. But nothing feels as good as when itʼs with you. Nothing.ˮ
“Keep going, youʼre doing good.ˮ I praise, sinking a bit deeper.
“Goddamn you feel so good.ˮ He moans. “Like, my hands canʼt even come close to this, are you kidding? I can try all I want, and believe me, I have - Oh, my god, please donʼt stop - Iʼve been trying all the time, I admit that, canʼt hardly stand being around you and not being able to just fuck you whenever I want.ˮ
I push down further, the stretch he gives me loosing my own moan. “How much do you wanna fuck me, Spence? Tell me, please.ˮ
“God, all the time. Itʼs all I can think about when I get down to it - baby, can I please touch you now?ˮ
“Punishment is a bitch, isnʼt it, Reid?ˮ I smirk, starting to push him in and out of me, slowly and with a devious grin that falters at just how damn good it is.
“Baby, Iʼm gonna get outta these and fuck you so good-ˮ
“Try it.ˮ I raise an eyebrow, stopping my motions.
“Oh- No, Iʼm sorry, please donʼt stop. Iʼll be good, I promise.ˮ
“Yeah, you will.ˮ I drop as far as I can take him, savoring the stuttered animalistic groan he lets out as I press down onto him, pulling his hair and moving my hips around him. As he is want to do, heʼs thrusting up into me, even if heʼs unable to reach me with his hands held up as they are. “Eager, sweet boy. Iʼm gonna ruin you.ˮ
And ruin him, I do. The tension and heat in my belly rides and breaks several times, with him unable to form real words except for the continuous begging of please donʼt stop repeated on a loop until I feel Iʼm satisfied with his demeanor.
Once Iʼve tortured him enough, I reach for the cuffs, ready to let him off the leash - knowing that once I do, the balance will shift. Truthfully, Iʼm just eager to let him be true to his word and fuck me like heʼs been dying to.
“You donʼt need any more confessions from me, then?ˮ He huffs, sweat slicked across his brow from the effort of holding back - though heʼs not really done so, has he?
“One last one, I suppose.ˮ I pull off of him, and the pout he gives nearly makes me sit right back down on him again.
“Alright, Iʼll be good and honest with you, then.ˮ He continues while I set to unlocking the cuffs, “You know the other day, just after we got the final piece of evidence put together?ˮ
I nod.
ˮI was so psyched, I couldʼve taken you right there. I donʼt care that everyone would have known, would have seen. Itʼs just something you do to me.ˮ He finishes, his tone light. Oh boy, Iʼm about to get railed. “I love you. And now Iʼm gonna fuck you like Iʼve been wanting to for weeks.ˮ
No sooner is he free, tearing off the shirt he was wearing and looming over me with the hungriest of looks at my body before pressing himself into me. No wait, no teasing - heʼs not got the control for it, clearly, and Iʼm not complaining one bit.
“Next time, you get the cuffs, pretty girl.ˮ He promises, his hands all over my body now that he can manage it. Hard, precise thrusts, his voice heavy and fucked-out.
“And Iʼll show you just what Iʼve been wanting to do that Iʼm gonna savor in my mind after.ˮ
My nails are leaving deep trails in his back, surely leading to marks that would raise questions if anyone else saw. Heʼs so far in me, almost bottomed out, and itʼs almost too much and yet not enough all at once. I pull him closer, and his hand tangles in my hair while the other clasps around my throat.
“Youʼre all mine.ˮ Spencer growls - truly, thereʼs not other word for it, the purely animal drive taking him to a world where itʼs just us, just this. And Iʼm there too, crying out with the ecstasy his body causes my own.
“All yours.ˮ
“Thatʼs right, pretty girl. Say it for me, I wanna hear you say it.ˮ
“Iʼm all yours, Spence- oh, my god-ˮ
“Good, thatʼs good. My pretty girl. Youʼre so tight, you feel so good wrapped around me, donʼt you? God, what a sight.ˮ Here he is, in his rambles now, and I can hardly contain how close I am. “Wanna tell everyone this is mine. Iʼm the only one that gets to have you, gets to fuck you like this. See you break for me. Only me.ˮ
“Only you, Spence, only you-ˮ
“Cʼmon, I know youʼre close, I can feel it. You get so much tighter, god, if itʼs even possible-ˮ
“Spencer-ˮ
“Thatʼs my girl, cum for me.ˮ
“Donʼt stop-ˮ I can feel the cord in me ready to snap, chasing my most intense orgasm of the night with his words and the feeling of him slamming so deep inside me. “More, Spence, you can give me more-ˮ
“Sweet girl, of course, I know you can handle it.ˮ He pushes himself fully in, my breath catching at the slight pain, yet itʼs still so good, I canʼt stop it, I donʼt want to. “Want me to fuck you so good with all of me, donʼt you?ˮ
I nod against his grasp, and he loosens it a bit, kissing me fervently.
“Please, please cum for me, I wanna feel you all over me, beautiful.ˮ He reaches down, his thumb rubbing circles on my clit. Itʼs the last thing I need to send me over that edge, and I cry out, his name slipping past my lips unwarranted. “Oh, baby, love how you say my name. Like itʼs a prayer, like Iʼm a god.ˮ
“Donʼt stop, Spence-ˮ
“Iʼm close, baby- Oh, I wanna cum in you-ˮ
Another orgasm follows near immediately after this one, and Iʼm grasping at him while heʼs chasing his own, his hands fumbling and his thrusts getting sloppy. He grips the sheets, his breaths stunted.
“Cum in me, please-ˮ
“Iʼm gonna, god, Iʼm so fuckinʼ close-ˮ He tightens around me, muscles shaking as he lets loose, and now itʼs his turn to moan my name a lot louder than he should while he cums. Heʼs so pretty when he does, too - the crease that works between his brows, the round pucker to his lips. Partly through, he kisses me, hard. And when heʼs done, his grip loosens, falling slack on top of me with a contented sigh.
A few moments pass where he just holds me, peppering soft kisses across my face and telling me you did such a good job, baby. Then, he pops up with a smile and comes back with water and a towel, cleaning up after himself.
“Satisfied?ˮ I chuckle, slowly pulling my clothes back on.
“Almost.ˮ He dips his head down, capturing a nipple in his mouth for a few moments. I groan, overstimulated, but still too happy to appease him. “Now, Iʼm satisfied. Iʼm staying in here, okay? Donʼt care if someone sees at this point.ˮ
“Spence?ˮ
“Mmhm?ˮ
“I love you, too.ˮ
1K notes · View notes
loveinhawkins · 2 months
Text
picturing Eddie first meeting Dustin and thinking yeah, he knows how this goes: he’ll be a larger than life, comical figure in this kid’s life for, like, not even a year before he leaves Hawkins High in the dust.
And sure, Dustin is, like, ridiculously endearing even when he’s being a cocky little shit in campaigns, and that suits Eddie just fine, ‘cause he can be a cocky little shit at the best of times, downright obnoxious really, he thinks—a part of him’s never outgrown the juvenile, no matter how many times he repeats senior year.
Plus Dustin is crazily good at solving riddles, so Eddie’s remaining months leading Hellfire are definitely gonna be a fun challenge.
Then March comes.
And Eddie’s shaking apart in a boathouse, seeing impossible, terrible things on a loop in his head, Chrissy, Chrissy, God no, please, and Dustin’s there, with a wisdom far beyond his years, calmly leading him out of the dark.
Eddie half expects it to be a trick, but no. Dustin Henderson believes him.
You don’t know me, Eddie wants to say.
But there’s a constant defiance in Dustin’s expression, even when he’s clearly trying to keep things light and breezy, there’s nothing to worry about! Like he’s just daring for Eddie to contradict him.
There’s something assured in how the kid does things, Eddie thinks. He can see how the years of all this shit have shaped him, have him flitting between maturity and earnestness: something born from a childhood that’s not been lost, just altered.
He watches Dustin walk with Steve Harrington in the woods—can read the shared history and fondness hidden in between layers of snark; they’re family, he knows that without a doubt.
What trips him up is that Dustin keeps looking back, keeps drawing him back into the group with complaints that he’s walking too slow, and his eyebrows are raised meaningfully, like he’s really saying that there’s room for Eddie here, too.
And Eddie doesn’t know how to convey the sudden gratitude he feels closing up his throat—feels too jittery still, too raw to do anything justice.
He keeps close when Dustin tears off through the woods, heart in his mouth as the night darkens, Dustin, can you slow down? Dustin!
He pulls Dustin back from the lake’s edge just in time, then feels Steve’s watchful eyes on him—spots a flicker of approval, like he’s passed some sort of test.
And that feeling only grows the longer he’s around Steve, lying through his teeth in The Upside Down, I don’t even know why I care what that little shrimp thinks, and Steve’s giving him this knowing sideways glance, like maybe they’re something of the same; Eddie feels a sudden, unexpected rush of joy at the thought, dancing in and out of Steve’s space, still super jealous as hell, by the way.
“I told you, right?” Dustin says, grinning widely as Steve drives them out of Forest Hills at breakneck speed. “He’s awesome.”
And Eddie feels the fondness of his own smile, feels it right down to his core, because he gets that Dustin’s only being so forthcoming because Steve can’t hear him right now.
Kid worships you, dude. Like, you have no idea.
It hits him then, while roughhousing with Dustin in the grass (a deliberate distraction, trying to make the kids forget about weapons and fire): that he’s never really been the kinda guy who people want to stick around, but now…
Now he’s starting to think that he could be.
Starts to imagine, starts to hope—and that’s huge, something that would’ve seemed impossible mere days ago—as he sees Robin and Nancy laughing at his antics, their weapon-making temporarily forgotten.
They like me, Eddie thinks with wonder, they really like me.
And he wants—sudden and fierce, with all he has—to change the world for them, to make it so Robin Buckley would just be spending spring break watching arty films, dreaming of Paris; so Nancy Wheeler would never need to hide guns in her bedroom, would never have to carry an unimaginable grief.
Steve looks over, too—his laugh carries across the field, and Eddie is caught by the warmth in his eyes; even as Dustin manages to playfully tackle him, he’s still thinking of Steve, and maybe, maybe…
The lightness fades as they go over the plan, but not the emotion: Eddie keeps that tucked away, safe, a promise to himself.
“Uh, are you sure about this?” he says in an undertone to Steve, when it’s first revealed that it’s him and Dustin paired up together.
Steve’s eyes are apologetic, “Sorry, man, I’ve tried every—if there was a way to just, like, sit it out, I’d have—”
“No,” Eddie says urgently, “I mean…” And he points at himself before nodding discreetly to where Dustin is—currently talking up a storm with Erica, something about vents that he can’t make sense of.
“Are you sure?” Eddie presses, trying to put all he’s not saying into the question, I can see how much that kid means to you, I’ve known him, like, six months, Harrington, that’s nothing, why, why do you—
Steve shakes his head. A little smile breaks through his concern. “Yeah, of course,” he says, like it’s nothing.
But Eddie can feel the weight of it. A passing of the torch.
And he doesn’t know how to put what he’s feeling into words: that, apart from Wayne, he’s never really allowed people in, never allowed them to matter like this.
As they drive back to the Creel House, as time runs out and nerves build, he tries to show everything he can’t say; he helps Nancy take stock of supplies, offers Robin his shoulder so she can sleep, and he knows that’s not enough, barely scratches the surface, but it’s all he’s got.
He sits in the back of the RV, watches Steve, tense and silent in the driver’s seat, and knows with certainty what his mission is: get Dustin Henderson safely back home.
And no, Eddie doesn’t know how any of this is gonna go.
But he can hope.
He can try.
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erwinsvow · 4 months
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He recognizes you instantly—Sarah’s friend, the shy one who never muttered out anything more than a quiet Hi, Rafe when he would walk by the pool or pass the two of you looking for dessert in the kitchen.
You’re all dolled up, makeup decorating your pretty face and wearing a yellow dress that’s twice as short as anything he’s ever seen you in. You look out of place in his living room, laying across his couch, eyes fixated on the television which is currently playing some kid’s show. He watches you for a minute, listens to you hum along with the song playing quietly in the background of the episode, looks at your hands fiddle with the strap of your heels.
You try harder again, working to yank the clasp so it’ll free your ankle from its painful constraint, but to no avail. He hears you sigh and curse under your breath, giving up and stretching your legs out. You keep watching the show, what he now recognizes as Strawberry Shortcake, what Wheezie was watching before bed.
“Need help?”
You jump from your position on the sofa, sitting up instantly, turning to look at Rafe with your heart pounding. You don’t know where he’d come from, expecting Sarah who had told your earlier that everyone was asleep.
You look up at Rafe quizzically, confused. You must have had a few drinks with Sarah, the way you look all flushed and warm, breathing heavy and eyelids fluttering. He thinks you look like a deer caught in headlights.
“What?” You say it softly, like you’re embarrassed.
“Your shoes. Need help?”
He thinks normally he’d be a little annoyed to repeat himself, especially with one of Sarah’s stupid friends, but he doesn’t seem to mind as much right now.
“Oh, oh,” you let out, misunderstanding what he originally meant and sighing a breath of relief. You bring your thighs to your chest so you can access your ankles again and watch with those doe eyes while he walks around and sits down on the couch right next to you.
The way you’re bent right now, he can tell you’re definitely drunk, because he can see entirely too much—a glimpse of white cotton between your legs, all the smooth skin of your upper thighs and lower legs. Your strappy heels are white, and he lets himself reflect for a moment that they match your panties, which is ultimately a mistake, because once he starts thinking about that, he can’t stop thinking about it.
“It’s broken, I think.” You stare at your friend’s older brother—the one who you’ve never been alone with before. Sarah complains and talks about what their dad thinks, and you half-listen, agreeing only because she’s your friend, but you’ve never understood what’s been so bad about Rafe.
“I can get it. Let me try.” The way he says it, you believe him right away. In your tipsy state, you don’t think there’s anything he could say that you wouldn’t believe.
The two of you stare at each other for a few heartbeats. It feels like ages because he takes your ankle in his hand, moving your heels into his lap. He takes the first shoe gently, gentler than you thought Rafe would be with you, and pulls on the strap so the buckle comes undone. He slips the shoe off of your foot, letting it hit the ground with a dull thud. Rafe moves onto the next, pulling on the strap again but this time it hurts. You inhale sharply, foot almost pulling away from him, but his other hand on your ankle keeps you in place.
“Sorry, kid.” He tries again, with more care this time, until it loosens and finally frees you. That shoe falls too.
You want to speak but no words come out. Your heart is thudding loudly in your chest again, looking at Rafe while he’s looking at you, your ankles in his hands and his fingers rubbing over the spot your heels had hurt you.
“Thanks, Rafe,” you say quietly. You’re almost worried to let anyone else hear, to let him hear.
“No problem.”
You hear the clatter of a door opening, Sarah’s voice and what can only be her on the phone with someone, confirming that they were here to pick you two up.
“You ready?” You hear your friend’s voice call to you from the kitchen. You don’t want to move but you do, folding your legs back and standing up, sliding down your dress while you walk to the kitchen without even looking back at Rafe.
He sits on the couch with your discarded heels near his feet, wondering what the hell just happened and why he’s hard. He hears a door open and close while his eyes flick back to the television, still playing the episode you were watching.
Then the sound of another door—and you walk back in, settling right back to where you were sitting, now upright, shoulder to shoulder with Rafe.
“Not gonna go with her?” He questions, already knowing the answer.
You stretch your feet out over his lap again, getting comfortable and melting into the sofa, giving him an eyeful on purpose this time.
“Can’t go without any shoes.”
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actual-greenninja · 19 days
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The Hashira And how I think they will act as parents (PT 1?)
Rengoku/ Giyuu/ Sanemi/ x GN Reader (modern au)
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Synopsis: Basically what the title says, this is just a little brain rot, may or may not be trash. Just me talking about how I think they would be as parents, how many kids they would want, etc
Authors note: This was kinda hard because I've never written nor read any works of Giyuu so he might not be written too well :')
Note: NOT PROOF READ
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Rengoku🔥 (⁠ノ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ノ⁠*⁠.⁠✧
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🧡 I see him wanting many children, not too many of course but quite a few! Maybe two like him and his brother, Senjuro. Or maybe even three or four, five if you will let him!
🧡 He wants to be a better father to his children than what his dad turned out to be after his mom passed away. Has nearly sworn off drinking when his first child was born because he didn't want to risk anything , poor thing :(
🧡 However you guys plan on having children doesn't really matter,he doesn't care of they aren't biologically his or not, he will love them!!
🧡 I see him having more sons than daughters, he wants to raise them up right to become good, decent men! And if he has a daughter he will teach his son's to protect her, even though he knows she will be more than capable to take care of herself. If they want to be demon slayers that's even better!
🧡 He tries his absolute best not to be too loud when he is holding his first baby, you have never seen him whisper the way he did when he held his first born.
🧡 Loves hearing his children play! And if he isn't busy he will join in and play along! Usually their games consist of Rengoku chasing them. Maybe he is a demon and they are demon slayers trying to fight him off, it's an adorable sight!
🧡 If he sees you playing with his children he will just sit back and watch for a little. Seeing his love playing with his children brings him so much warmth in his heart
🧡 You could say it sets his heart ablaze (insert laugh track)
🧡 He has a little bit of trouble saying no to his little kiddos. But he knows where to draw the line (some what atleast)
🧡Will randomly send you pictures of him and the kids (he does it shirtless when they're babies. Says they need skin to skin contact). Usually consists of both of them smiling, or watching TV or reading a book or Rengoku nibbling their cheeks.
🧡" Sweetheart! Look at our little sun flower! He's so focussed on the story book you got! And look! Whenever we get to the page talking about parents, he starts to laugh! *Chuckle* it seems he loves his parent as much as I do. Like father like son— huh?"
🧡 It's canon that Rengoku is half deaf and that is why he speaks so loudly, so I imagine his kids definitely gained a habit of yelling naturally when talking like their dad.
🧡Prefers to be called 'Papa' by his kids. I'm not sure why I just see it.
🧡His genes are strong. STRONG. All your kids (if biological) look exactly like him. Hair, eyes, smile and all. He finds it hilarious and will always mock you about it.
🧡Is there to EVERY game or concert, and if the school needs a chaperone he's your guy! Mom's love him, teachers love him, kids love him, even dad's love him. Who wouldn't?
🧡 As much as I praise him, like everyone he isn't perfect. Like I said, he has trouble saying no. But I also imagine that as much as he tries not to be like his dad, is how much he wants you to be like his mom, because he remembers her as such an amazing mother. So there is a bit of comparing but don't worry, he loves you for you!
🧡 Another thing about him being half deaf: hes off like a light when he's asleep. Baby is crying? Sucks to suck because 60 percent of the time he will sleep through it. But when he hears he will be the first one to check on your little one.
🧡Rengoku definitely will feel very hurt the first time his kid gets embarrassed of him. Like when they go through that "YOURE EMBARRASSING ME DAD!!" phase. Like, he will get so insecure and will feel like they don't love him anymore
🧡 "Sweetheart, do I talk too loud when I'm around their friends? Or do I make weird jokes? I thought saying "rizz" was cool??" Is what he will ask In the dead of night, and you will have to comfort him
🧡I imagine that Rengoku would love taking you and his kids camping and will make it a yearly tradition, even though it ends up a catastrophe every year.
🧡Over all a 9/10, amazing dad, had his flaws but honestly who doesn't?
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Giyuu 🌊 (⁠・⁠–⁠・⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ
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🫐 He is okay with any amount of children you're comfortable with. He'd preferably want not too many, but also more than one, so two is a good number
🫐 Poor thing, the first time you told him you were pregnant he was completely emotionless for like two minutes, just staring at the ground. You were so scared but before you could speak he took your hand tightly and started sobbing. He was so happy he was gonna be the father of your baby :(
🫐 And if you told him you wanted to adopt he'd agree, showing support when you made the decision. But the moment he sees the child you're gonna adopt he feels tears stream down his face.
🫐 When he holds your baby for the first time, no matter how many babies you have he will never be use to holding them for the first time. He will be so gentle, whispering to them. He looks a little awkward but it's okay he's trying.
🫐 Faints the first time he sees a diaper. Why does it look like that? Why does it smell like that?! How do you put it on?! He was the youngest so he had no clue how to do this, but he'd learn for you and your baby.
🫐 "Darling! Darling! Please take the baby now!! He— he needs to be changed please!"
🫐"Giyuu I am at work what do you want me to do?!" -you guys when being new parents probably
🫐He's a very quick learner though so you won't have to worry. Soon he's working with the baby without breaking a sweat! You could even say he's a natural
🫐 He still can't handle things like puke and poops though. That's for sure, unfortunately.
🫐 When your kid is older he will definitely be at all the games, shows, recitals, whatever. But he isn't gonna be cheering loudly, he honestly justs blends into the crowd. But the moment your bundle of joy gets of stage he is congratulating them profusely.
🫐 Takes so many pictures of you and your baby. Has so many pictures, and sends it to all of his friend's (so like 3 people)
🫐 Doesn't embarrass your kids often, hes too rserved. But if a child even talks wrong to his baby, he will not hesitate to go up to them and give them a stern talking to, which may be a little embarrassing.
🫐If your kid likes to sing— He WILL sing along and take videos. But God forbid you take a video of him singing, he will chase you for your phone. He's a terrible singer, but he will do anything for your baby.
🫐 Will respect his kids boundaries. If they don't wanna hug in public, sure..he was the same at some point. He will feel a little hurt and go to you for reassuring, but he knows it's just a teenage thing.
🫐 Once tried to sound cool Infront of his kids friends but ended up looking kinda lame. TERRIBLE DAD JOKES AHEAD!!
🫐Tried making a dad joke with his kids friends, all of them stayed silent, so did he. The table was silent until one of them decided to change the subject. Giyuu has never known peace since.
🫐 Is a very light sleeper, some say he doesn't sleep so if his baby cries, he is the first to go and check on them.
🫐 He makes sure not to sound to negative about himself around his kids. He doesn't want them to end up with a mindset like his.
🫐 Do kids love him? Do parents love him? Do teachers love him? Nyeeehhhh. Quite frankly they forget he exists. He doesn't stand out, but atleast that means he doesn't do anything wrong.
🫐he has some flaws in his parenting unfortunately. You'd expect him to be stern, responsible parent but honestly he will let his kids get away with anything to 'help his chances of them liking him'.
🫐 Also something that isn't entirely his fault is that he is unintentionally emotionally distant as his kids get older. Like, he won't know how to comfort that well. But he will try his best. Nothing but the best for his kids.
🫐 Overall 8.5/10. Great dad, not extraordinary but still pretty amazing
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Sanemi 🍃(⁠ノ⁠ಠ⁠益⁠ಠ⁠)⁠ノ
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🌱 The moment you announce that you're pregnant he is crying and becoming a little frantic. The most stressed out of the three despite his usual nonchalant demeanour.
🌱 He is making sure that you are taken care of, making sure everything is ready for the pregnancy months before
🌱If you guys are adopting he is alot less frantic but still very on edge. Making sure the bedroom is ready. Making sure everything is baby proofed.
🌱 But the moment the baby enters your lives it's like all that stress melts away in the blink of an eye. When he takes the baby into his arms and holds it against his open chest he is whispering sweet nothings into the kids ear.
🌱 Like Giyuu, he can't handle poop or vomit. Especially vomit. The first time your baby threw up on him was on his chest, and unfortunately since he keeps his chest own it slid down to his stomach
🌱 He shrieked. Genuinely shrieked.
🌱 "HOLY SHI— SHHHH....." he is trying his best not to swear Infront of your kid. He doesn't want to be remembered by your baby as an angry man.he can't. He refuses to let that happen.
🌱 You know he is stressed. Very very stressed. He doesn't want to be like his dad, his abusive father that he could only remember beating him and his siblings. He wants to be better, he needs to be better. But this worry leads to him having many sleepless nights where you would comfort him, telling him that he will never be his father.
🌱 When your kid gets older he will definitely take part in any little games they want to play. And he gets a kick out of it when he's the villain, because trust me when I say he is a phenomenal villain for his kids
🌱 Speaking of "kids", he wants more than one, definitely. Atleast three, but if that's too much for you he won't mind at all! He is a Girl Dad™ , nothing will convince me otherwise.
🌱 If he has a kid that looks exactly like him then he will be very careful. His baby is the most pretty, handsome thing in the whole universe, so how can he nitpick his appearance when he knows he has the eyes, nose and hair of his baby?
🌱 Lets his kid trace his scars, wether it be with their fingers or with markers. It gives him a sense of purpose.
🌱 Will he be a chaperone? Hell no. He hates any kid that isn't his. Will he host birthday parties? Hell yes, if it's his kids. But don't expect him to make small talk with parents.
🌱 If his kid shows romantic interest in Giyuus child he will actually combust. He doesn't want to be overbearing but if Giyuus 'spawn' goes near his angel he wil be throwing hands (with Giyuu).
🌱 Speaking of which, when your kid has a crush he will try not to be mad and sad at the same time
🌱 "Oh? Someone has caught the eye of daddy's angel? Well that's... Nice. Who is this kid? Is he nice? What's his name? What does he say? Do you know his parents? You know daddy will always love you the most"
🌱 Gets (very) defensive of his kids. If he's at a parent teacher meeting and the teacher dares to say something like "your child is too (this)" or your child is too (that)" he will get very upset. But he knows when he's child is truly the problem and will sternly check them.
🌱 Takes pictures of your kid doing the dumbest things in the dumbest angles. Have you seen that one pic of a guy standing on a babies shoulders captioned "on baby"? That is what hed send.
🌱 "Hey, babe. Look at our little mochi. Our baby is just the cutest thing alive😊❤️" and it's a picture of your baby from that one angle from the top of its head making it look dumb.
🌱 I imagine Sanemi has a sweet tooth, meaning he has a stash of sweets somewhere and of course he will share with his babies! But only one or two, anymore and he'll start to get a bit cranky.
🌱 He gives his kids punishments like the naughty corner 😭 and will make them stay there for 10 minutes before taking them to their room and calmly telling them where they went wrong.
🌱goes it his kids games/events and cheers LOUDLY. Almost rivals Rengoku. He is yelling, cheering, even swearing but each time it gets to that level he is kicked out.
🌱 Sanemi has quite a few flaws to his parenting. He has a bit of a temper, and although he keeps it in check it's hard to do so when he just came back from work. He will apologize many many times if he gets too upset
🌱 overall 8.5/ 10. He's a good parent, and he tries his best
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Thanks for reading. Reblogs are appreciated. MIGHT make a part two with Tengen, Iguro and Gyomei
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surielstea · 2 months
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Taunts and Tension
Based on this request!
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Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: Reader and Azriel go on a spy mission and come back a little more touchy than usual?
Warnings: Sexual tension | Briefest mention of a threesome | innuendo of oral (m receiving)
2.8k words
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“You have got to be kidding me,” The Shadow Singer grumbled as the High Lord told him we’ve been partnered for his next mission.
“Unfortunately, he’s not,” I huff to the tall male, just as annoyed as him. “Rhys with all due respect, I work alone,” Azriel contended and I scoff. “Does that apply to your love life too?” I quip but they both ignore me. “I know Az, but Eris likes her, he’s more likely to play by our rules if we use her as bait,” Rhys says. “It’s just a meeting, the both of you only have to get along for a few hours,” He hums and I roll my eyes, I couldn’t refuse the offer, he was paying me double for this. “Fine,” Azriel uttered, the fool agreed for free.
“Good, you leave at sunset,” The half-fae instructs then quickly dismisses the both of us when his mate comes into his office, a babbling Nyx in her arms. “Hi sweetie,” I coo at the two-year-old as I pass Feyre on the way out. “Auntie!” He exclaims with a bright smile. The High Lady waved at me and I returned it. “Be careful on your mission tonight,” She advises and I brush her off. “It’s just a meeting, nothing to be worried about.” I smile. “Oh, I wasn’t referring to your assignment,” Her eyes flick to Azriel and my lips form an ‘o’ shape in realization. She chuckled then gave me a wink as the Shadow Singer passed by me, muttering a curse under his breath. I return her smile then nod in a farewell and go the opposite direction down the hall.
The Spring Court was a lot duller than I had expected. Sure the flowers were in bloom and the sun still seeped through the trees but, there was no vibrancy to the colors. “Feyre really did a number on this place,” I hum, looking out at the deserted Court. It still held some beauty, the crystal clear lakes with lily pads floating heedlessly, the rolling hills, and flower fields.
“I kind of feel bad for him,” I mutter, bending down and plucking a daisy from a patch sprouting out the trunk of a maple tree. “Don’t,” Azriel huffed. We were on the border between Spring and Autumn so there was a weird merging between wildlife, the magnolia trees slowly shifting into maples, bunnies sectioned from foxes, and lush forests morphing into rustic woods.
“Are we early or is he just trying to make an entrance?” I sigh, already bored. “Early,” He replies and my shoulders sag. “Can you only respond with one-word answers?” I narrow my eyes on the Shadow Singer. He smirks. “No,” He says and I grit my teeth, looking down at the daisy in my hands.
We go silent for a moment. I stare out at the dusky sky, the last of the sun slipping below the hills. He seems content to continue staring at me, much to my dismay. I didn’t know what for, it’s not like he had to keep an eye on me, and there was nothing I could do that his shadows wouldn’t report back to him, they were often all over me, seemingly out of his control when I was around.
“What?” I snap my head back to him after only a minute, his stare becoming too physical, like I could feel the way his eyes traced my features. “Why are you dressed like that?” He tilts his head. I look down at my gown with creased brows. It was a silk slip, a rich mocha color. I look at what he’s wearing, his usual leathers. “It’s a meeting Azriel, we’re not battling warriors,” I remark. “Is it because we’re meeting with Eris?” He tilts his head. I cross my arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I bite back. “That you’re trying to impress him,” He surmises.
“Nuh-uh!”
“Nuh uh?” He mocks. “That’s your defense?” The brunette scoffs and my frown deepens, leaning against the tree at my back. “I wore the dress ‘cause I didn’t wanna change, okay?” I explain with narrowed brows. “And it’s not my fault he admires me,” I add. “Not that you know the feeling,” I murmur under my breath but of course, he heard it.
He takes a menacing step forward, shadows turning sporadic around him and I roll my eyes on the dramatics of it— anyone else would’ve been begging for forgiveness just by looking into the darkness of his eyes. “What was that?” His hand comes to my chin, forcing my head toward him. I jerk out of his hold with a grimace.
“I said you don’t know what it’s like to be admired, or do you need a reminder that you’ve been chasing the same girl for five hundred years?” This time I was the one to take a step forward, my chest nearly pressed to his. “Because newsflash Az, she doesn’t want you—” I start but his hands come to my wrists and pull them up above my head, pinning me to the tree, his other hand on my hip so I can’t thrash.
His nostrils flared, eyes ablaze and I nearly laughed. “You’re constantly teetering on that edge huh? Can’t ever keep your temper in check?” I arch a brow up at him, my smirk only widens as I watch him grit his teeth. He knew what I meant. Knew that he pounced on anyone who damaged his fragile ego, and talked down on his precious family, gods forbid I mention Morrigan. His hold moves from my waist to my neck, wrapping his large hand entirely around my throat, softly squeezing.
“You’re choking me,” I whisper out and the sadistic fuck has a smile on his face. “You seem like the type to be into that,” He presumes and he wouldn’t be far off if this was a different situation. I flush pink at the idea, it’d be a lie if I said I hadn’t imagined the Spymaster on top of me more than once. My cheeks were burning hot, I was beyond embarrassed, and slightly turned on.
“Not so talkative now, are we?” He was so close, so close his body was pressed to my own, our breath shared as his face hovered above mine, cauldron damn his height.
“Let me go,” I pull at my wrists but his grip is iron, and maybe my attempts were halfhearted because, in all honesty, I didn’t want to leave this position one bit. “You learn your lesson yet? Or are you gonna keep being a brat?” He hums and arousal pools in my panties. I quickly glamour the scent, praying he didn’t recognize it before I got the chance. “Fuck you,” I seethe, continuing my futile attempts to escape. “Such a filthy mouth, you wanna put it to better use?” He asks and if I wasn’t red before I definitely was now. “In your dreams,” I hiss. “Oh love, it is,” He smirks, and my brain stutters. What’d he just say?
My pointed ears perk before I can reply, noticing an unfamiliar pair of footsteps. Not Eris.
“Someone’s coming, kiss me,” I say with a rushed tone. “What?” His hand loosened around my neck. “Just—” I don’t finish and interrupt myself by lifting onto my toes and crashing my lips against his.
He seems taken aback for a moment then to my surprise, leans into it. I melt at the feeling. He was tentative at first but once I showed him this was what I asked for he seemed almost, hungry. His hand slips from my throat and cups my jaw instead, calloused thumb pulling at my bottom lip and forcing them open. I can’t help but obey his silent command, parting my lips wider so he can capture me fully. His mouth seals over mine yet again and my stomach ties into knots, the thrumming sensation in my ribcage making me realize this was a point of no return.
His tongue explored my mouth like it was his and his alone, he was devouring me and I savored every moment. An energy buzzed between us, my wrists still pinned up by his hold, but I wasn’t any less greedy with my lips. I wanted him to taste me, to memorize me, and never forget the feel of his lips on mine, I wanted it to hurt when he had to pull away. Languid movements with his tongue turn into messy, impatient strokes, needing all of me right then and there— and I would’ve given it to him if not for that pair of footsteps returning, so much closer this time.
“What’s going on here?” A gruff voice demands answers and Azriel hesitantly detaches, like he was unwilling.
It takes me a moment to even open my eyes, gods if he’s got me this paralyzed over just a kiss who knows how much more I could take? Azriel lets go of my wrists and I regain consciousness.
“I’m sorry Officer,” I put on my most innocent smile. The male in front of me was Autumn Court patrol, lower in rank based on the patches on his arms. “What’s an Illyrian doing so far from home?” He snarled the word like it was a curse. “We’re traveling sir,” I say, intertwining my hand with Azriel’s. He stiffens at the action as if I didn’t just have his lips on mine. “Travelin’?” The officer scoffs. “Out here?” He hums. “Yes sir, it’s our honeymoon,” I grin wildly, trying to capture the excitement of newlyweds as I hold our linked hands up.
The officer raises his brows a fraction, he was buying it. He was visibly older, you had to be ancient as a fae to start having wrinkles and this guy had plenty. “You know, I feel like I recognize you,” He hums and I swallow thickly. It was more likely for Azriel to get recognized out of the two of us, so the Shadow Singer didn’t take his chances and stuffed his face into my neck, lining kisses from my shoulder to my jaw. My hand goes into his hair, weaving my fingers into his soft, dark locks as I continue carrying on the conversation.
“Really? What from?” I tilt my head, resting my luck. “Not quite sure…” He thinks for a moment. “Ah, forget it probably just confusing you with my granddaughter, she’s lovely like you,” He says and I giggle light-heartedly. “That’s sweet to hear,” I smile. “Alright you kids be safe, perhaps find an inn somewhere,” He starts his trek once more. “Thank you, officer!” I call to him and he gives me a wave.
I nearly cackle as Azriel pulls away from my neck, my lipgloss smeared along his lips. I reach up and wipe it away with a teasing smile. “Not much of a spymaster if I’m the one saving you, hm?” I say, hands cupping his cheeks. “You were the one distracting me in the first place,” He defended, crossing his arms and I snicker. “Awh, poor Illyrian baby is pouting 'cause I’m better at his job,” I taunt, his gaze on my lips as I talk.
“Well, that was quite the show,” A familiar, smooth voice intones from a short distance away and I whip my head towards the figure, leaning against a tree with an unmistakable foxlike smirk on his face. “How long have you been standing there?” Azriel questions and it seems like the Heir might laugh. “It’s truly a wonder how your shadows didn’t find me, though I suppose they’re preoccupied at the moment,” He gestures to the ground beneath me where they were pooling at my feet, flicking up and twining at my ankle every now and again, completely forgetting what their job was in my presence.
The meeting went smoothly, Azriel was a bit on edge with the lack of his Shadows but other than that Eris complied easily, he seemed to have something up his sleeve but we’d worry about that at a later date, we were only ensuring his loyalty was still with us.
He updated us on some information including his father, the two males briefing over a plan to take down Beron, and as I stood there I realized I was just for show, a shiny jewel for Eris to look at, keep his attention before he got the idea that he could survive on his own. Not that I minded being looked at by the Heir, he was quite pretty— hel, I’d be lying if I said I haven’t dreamed about both the males in front of me, at once, more than once.
Azriel shadow-walked us back to the House of Wind when we were finished, or rather when he was finished. I probably could’ve stayed a few more minutes just to admire Eris in the pale moonlight, but my plans just had to be foiled by the Shadow Singer.
Az flew me the rest of the way into the house bridal style— since you couldn’t winnow straight in due to the wards. His hold on me felt more familiar than usual, and when he put me down he didn’t step away so neither did I.
“Hey,” Cassian said from the dining table, a mouthful of food muffling his voice. We both swivel towards the male, sat next to Nesta who couldn’t be bothered to look up from her book to greet us. “How’d the mission go?” The brunette at the table said once he swallowed his food. We both stiffen, the memory of that kiss has been replaying in my head over and over since it ended and yet it felt odd for anyone else to bring it up.
“Uh, went nice…” I shrug. Nesta looks up from her page, eyes piercing as they read me like the chapters in her book. “Really?” She intervenes and I nod. “Yup, just, so normal,” Azriel blurts out, and for a Spymaster, he was awfully bad at lying. Cassian creased his brows, clearly concerned for his brother. “Why are you acting so weird, then?” Nesta interrogates and the male and I share a look. “I don’t think he’s acting weird,” I scoff. “Do you think you’re acting weird?” My words are fast like I only have one breath to finish my sentence. “Pshh, never,” He shakes his head, looking down at his feet then back up to Lady Death.
“Right, well, man am I exhausted,” I stretch, feigning a yawn. “Yeah, the mission really wore me out,” He sighs, rolling his shoulders like there’s a weight off of them, following me up the stairs towards the bedrooms.
Nesta looks to her mate, a small smirk on her lips. “What?” The lord of bloodshed says cluelessly. “They’re totally going to fuck,” She hums, sinking into her chair a little and picking her book back up.
Azriel and I split off into our respective bedrooms, just across the hall from each other.
I paced beside my closed door, wondering what the fuck was I thinking when I let him kiss me. Sure I’ve always thought he was pretty but that was always a stupid fantasy, not something I would ever pursue… until now. Fuck, I am so finished. I repeatedly hit my palm against my forehead as I racked my head for any thought that didn’t immediately trace back to him. I couldn’t even look at my own hands without thinking about his hands, how they held my jaw— no. I wasn’t going to let myself romanticize this, it was just a mission. Nothing more. Just a kiss. A yearning, passion-filled kiss that fed all my cravings and somehow created new ones.
I groaned, deciding that this was the finest form of torture. I now stand still in front of my door, hoping that if I stare hard enough at it, he’ll come knocking and kiss me again because, fuck, I do want him.
I can’t sit here and wait for him to come rescue me from my own torment so I do it myself, hand coming to the doorknob and before I can psych myself out, I fling the door open.
To my shock, I’m immediately met with Azriel’s figure, his hand up like he was just about to knock.
“You couldn’t even let me make an entrance?” He tilts his head and I roll my eyes. “Shut up and kiss me already,” I grab him by the collar of his leathers and pull him in, the door closing behind him as his lips crash onto mine yet again.
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russellsppttemplates · 4 months
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A blurb for Max Verstappen where he does his best to keep you and the kids away from the Drive to Survive netflix crew but wants you around the new docuseries being filmed about Max and his life off the track
"Netflix people are going to be in our garage tomorrow morning", Max said as he came out of the ensuite bathroom, careful with the noise he was making as the kids were in the living room area of the hotel room, the sofas turning into beds so they could sleep near you still despite the half wall that created a sense of separation between the spaces.
"So we'll just join you for the afternoon then", you added, showing him your understood what he meant, "have you spoken to them about us not wanting their faces shown in the show? You know how they sometimes record the paddock and other people show. I know it's inevitable sometimes, mas maybe blurr it out or something", you tried.
"Yes, I spoke to them this morning. They seemed understanding enough, although there was the usual comment of why and if they could do this or that", Max shrugged, getting in the bed next to you, "what did you tell them?", you wondered.
"Didn't let them get too far. They already know where we stand with you and the kids showing up, so there's not need to beat around the bush again and again. They're butthurt because you appear on the docuseries, but it sounds like it's a their problem and not ours, so I'm not too fussed. And neither should you be", he smiled, kissing your cheek and letting you snuggle up to him.
.
"Are you ready, Y/N?", one of the producers asked as they arranged the camera on your car so it could catch both you and the person asking the questions.
"I'm going to pick up the kids from school now, they're at a very good age now where it's not hard getting them to leave the house in the morning because they love going to school, but also not too hard to get them to leave school because they also love being at home and know they'll see their friends tomorrow", you chuckled, remembering Finn's tantrum when you wanted to take him home and he wanted to stay in school because he wanted to keep paying with his friends whose parents were running a little bit late to pick them up too.
"Is it hard juggling all of this with Max being away for some good chunks of time every now and again?", she asked as you stopped at a red light.
"It isn't as hard as before", you reasoned, "when they were younger and their needs were different, I relied a lot on my mother in law and my parents whenever Max wasn't home, which was really mostly weekends because he arranged the schedule and RedBull made it work. But now they're older and they're at a stage where they are a little bit more independent and, honestly, we just take each day as it comes and go from there", you smiled.
"How is parenting along with Max?", she wondered, "you know, there are many moments in parenting where you think 'this is definitely not the way we should do this but it works for now so we just stick to it' - and you really hope for the best in these cases -, but last week we both went to a parent-teacher meeting and both teachers said that the kids were doing well, they were kind, empathetic, respectful. - And what is there more to ask, you know? - we both got out of the meeting and we're like 'yeah, this parenting thing is going just fine',", you smiled, "obviously, we got home to our little girl having a meltdown about not being able to fly, but really? It's an amazing journey parenting with Max, even when he has to tell our daughter that that's not something humans do and let her mourn a capacity she never had", you chuckled.
(Thank you for your submission ✨️)
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evilminji · 29 days
Text
Okay but? We of the DPxDC? Are COMPLETELY Sleeping on DPXBNHA?
And not even for the Main Plot Shenanigans!
Just?? It has ALL of DC's super powers? But MORE OF THEM. And like 80% of the population has um! Danny can?? Finally achieve his DREAM of being???
JUST SOME DUDE™!
Yeah, he's in Japan. That's a bit of a learning curve. And YEAH, there was a cataclysmic war like a few centuries back that sorta... fucked everybody up. No one wants to talk about it. There may be mass graves and Never Forget memorials. But?
On the SURFACE!
This place seems utopian!
No ghost hunters! Advanced technology! Robust social services*!
Wait... what was that asterisk? What do you mean "corrupt shadowy government organizations"? What do you MEAN "Immortal Supervillians"? NO SPACE PROGRAM!?!? AaaaaAAAAAAAAAAH?!?!? I'M IN HELL!!! This is ACTUALLY THE BAD PLACE, THIS IS HELL, OH GOD NOOOOOOO-!!!!!!
Cause see?
There are SO MANY REASONS he'd end up there?
Think about it! Wish that he lived somewhere his weird biology wouldn't exclude him from becoming an astronaut? In Quirks having Bnha Japan EVERYBODY has weird biology! Y'ain't special! You could TOTALLY be an astronaut!..... if we HAD those! We do not. Shut down that program during the Quirk Wars and never really started it again. (And somewhere, Desiree LAUGHS)
Or MAYBE? Things are getting a little hot on the ground? Bit TOO spicy. The Family Fenton and Friends have fallen back, behind the barely holding shields. Not even the Mansons considerable political maneuvering could stop the inevitably of human fear and blind unthinking hatred. Money can't buy everything, in the end. There is only ONE(1) way out.
Through the Zone.
Plan: Strangers In A Strange World is a go.
They're all Limnal enough to fake it. Sam with her plants. Tucker with his technology and persuasion. Jazz with her limited empathy. Their parents with their... well, weirdness. And with a touch of ghostly assisted meddling? Well, they've always BEEN there! Haven't they?
And that's not to MENTION the random 4 year olds with no control! JUST coming into their powers! With all those big emotions in tiny bodies? Startling events and tantrums? Villian attacks? What could THEY possibly hope to do to control or guide that fresh new power? It does what it does and the rest of us are just along for the ride!
If Danny happens to be minding his business and gets accidentally kidnapped by a VERY distraught 4 year old? Well, that's hardly the KIDS fault, now is it? They're FOUR! That is basically a toddler! Tiny child! They are upset, confused, and didn't mean to do ANYTHING. He's a hero. And Heros don't blame little kids from accidents, no matter HOW stressed it makes them.
No, the curse like a sailor INSIDE their head. Like an ADULT.
Just? Imagine~☆
The slow transition from *starry eyed shoujo sparkles* "This is SO COOL~!" to "huh, that's... kinda weird. And Sus. Weird Sus. Maybe nothing... oh! A distraction!" To "okay, this KEEPS happening, that was shady. You all saw that right? You realize that's not NORMAL, right? That that's fucked up? Not cool?" To "oh god, oh God, OH GOD! I'm in HELL! This is actually HELL! I'm trapped in HELL!!! WHAT THE FUC-"
Like? This kid LOVES space. LOVES the stars. And this is one of the few Superhero Cannon that SPECIFICALLY MENTIONS that IN CANNON? Thanks to Quirks? As in Superpowers? That VERY THING got fuckin SCRAPPED. Gutted. Consigned to be a relic of the past so they could all focus on punching each other Real Good.
He would weep BLOOD. Chew the WALLS. The LEVEL of unhinged this child would unleash? Not as Danny Phantom... but as DANNY J. FENTON? Beautiful. Vaguely psychotic. Definitely doing the Fenton Name proud. God, the NOISE HE WOULD MAKE would be inhuman and yet somehow? Come entirely from his human half.
They👏 Would👏 Hear👏 BOSS👏 MUSIC👏
I don't even know if he'd CARE about the main characters. They'd be tangential at best. The man would be in a one man war with I-Island over their lack of space program and hoarding of scientific progress. Probably living out of an abandoned building or forgotten subway station. Just? The MOST bedraggled, feral genius to ever haunt Japan.
As opposed to the REFINED feral genius. Who is Nedzu.
I bet Danny stands outside his school at one AM waving his scientific papers at a camera and YELLS. Like a deranged lunatic. Mismatched slippers and a "haven't slept in a week" crazed glint in his eyes.
He's Nedzu's new best friend. They GET each other.
And, yes, Nedzu COULD let him in... but it's faster to just let him yell and read the papers through the camera. Who CARES if they both seem insane! Let's shout about advanced physics and engineering at 1 am! Over the speakers!!! Oh? You need to physically SHOW me the notes? Well I COULD unlock the gates... OR just wait for you to finish scrambling up the walls like a feral Racoon, to then throw yourself OVER them.
Either, Or.
I'm just SAYING! We are SLEEPING on this! There is so, SO much fun to be had! Danny breaks rules and minds! His outrage over injustice and the complete lack of SPACE! His protection instincts going BUCK FUCKIN WILD. The INDESCRIBABLE hate boner he would have for Mr. "Lemme just rip parts of your soul out so I can collect your powers like pokemon cards" AfO.
There? Is SO MUCH, guys. SO MUCH!
@hdgnj @the-witchhunter @babbling-babull @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes @dcxdpdabbles @mutable-manifestation
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wynnyfryd · 6 months
Text
Trailer park Steve AU part 40
part 1 | part 39 | ao3
They're lying on their backs, Steve's head on Eddie's shoulder, Eddie running absent-minded fingers through Steve's hair. Led Zeppelin plays on low from the radio beside them, and the conversation ebbs and flows in sleepy bursts of disjointed thought. Talking just to talk. Because they like it; because they can.
"...Did you see Wheeler almost eat shit in the paint aisle this morning?"
"We should paint some stars on my ceiling. Make 'em glow in the dark..."
"God, what I would not give for more pizza."
"Who even eats cold pizza?"
Eddie shifts beneath him after a while, sitting up to bounce his legs and get the blood flowing again. With his weight leaned back on his hands, Steve can't help but notice the long line of his torso. Everything on display through the thin undershirt: the smattering of dark ink, the outline of his ribs, the cut of his slim waist. Steve wants to touch him.
"You know," Eddie says, surveying the empty room, the vinyl glinting in the lamp light, "it's really not half bad for a bunch of kids who thought they were gonna be hanging ornaments all day." He knocks his knee against Steve's leg. "I'd say you're well on your way to making this mobile house a mobile home."
Steve snorts at that, and Eddie pinches playfully at his side until the snort turns into a really undignified laugh and Steve rolls in on himself, curling toward Eddie, begging for mercy.
"You want to tell me what brought all this on?" Eddie asks. His voice is quiet and welcoming, eyes sparkling with some gentle offer of reprieve. The first rest stop sign after a hundred mile stretch of empty road.
Steve's mouth works; opens and closes and opens again, like it'll prompt his voice to sound or his brain to figure out the words. He still doesn't know how to explain — the fear, the paranoia, the way this place was starting to cling to him like black mold. "Just..." he shrugs. "Needed it, I guess."
Eddie gives him a long look. Unwavering and piercing; there's more pus in the wound that he's trying to lance, but he doesn't seem interested in drawing blood tonight.
He releases Steve from his gaze and goes back to his casual stretching — rolling his neck, popping his shoulders, shaking out his legs, his ankles, his feet — and then he gasps "Steve!" in a delighted tone that Steve does not care for at all. Usually means he’s about to get teased within an inch of his life.
"Hmm?" Steve lifts his head to look.
Eddie’s wiggling his right foot, drawing attention to the outer edge of his borrowed sock. "Is that a hole I see?"
Steve follows his line of sight, and sure enough, there's the smallest little tear by Eddie's pinky toe. “Oh, fuck off,” Steve rolls his eyes, “you can barely even see that.”
Eddie spreads his toes out wide, making the hole more obvious. "My, my, my,” he tuts, shaking his head with a big, disappointed sigh.
"You're such an asshole,” Steve mutters. Eddie's beaming; Steve flips him off.
"Well congrats, baby boy,” he drawls like a fucking pest, “now you're officially trailer trash."
"Hey!" Steve’s not sure if he likes that. Makes him blush to his ears; makes something sour roll in his gut.
Unfortunately it also kind of makes his dick twitch.
"Oh?" Eddie leers. His eyes dart to Steve's crotch, and then he shifts so he's hovering over Steve with Steve flat on his back, face on fire, pulse kicking hard. A vein throbs in his inner thigh. "Don't worry, Stevie." Eddie bends to nip at his jaw. "I meant it as a compliment."
"How is that a compliment?" Steve wants to sound annoyed. Is annoyed. But Eddie's skimming a light hand up his side, barest pressure that leaves a trail of tingling warmth in its wake, so the words come out more breathy than he intends.
"Because," Eddie whispers. Steve can feel his smile pressed against his skin. Eddie kisses up his jawline until he reaches his ear; mouths at the lobe and sucks it between his teeth, a sharp bite that makes Steve hiss. "All my favorite things are."
Steve bucks under him. "Trash?" he asks, breath catching.
Eddie's tongue traces his ear. "Mhmm."
His hand wanders to the hem of Steve's shirt, worming his fingers underneath, tickling the trail of hair below Steve’s belly button as he explains that all his favorite things are second-hand. Recycled and discarded items he’s restored with loving care.
Steve’s breath goes harsh and ragged, and he tries not to think about how that might apply to him.
Discarded.
Restored.
Favorite.
Maybe even—
He can’t let himself think the word.
part 41!
tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)
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