#Seeing Jesus in an Unexpected Place

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

by Vanessa Le | You cannot pronounce her name. Our friends and family simply call her “Ba” which means “Ma’am.” No one knows her birthday; her mother died before she was two years old.  She has not, has never been, and never will be, elected to any political office. She does not hold a position in...

[sugugasm]

☆ CLICK TO PLAY ! ➜ 450 DEGREES

YOUR LEVEL IS STARTING SOON . . .

level quest : pov ur neighbor is a firefighter, and you love a man in uniform . . just as much as he loves your chocolate chip cookies.

☆ — a message from the developer : hiii i missed uguys sm, i’m so glad to be back for realsies this time :p don’t mind any mistakes or errors & before you read — nsfw content up ahead so pretty please read these warnings !!! strangers to lovers !!! age gap alert ➜ toji is 35 and reader is 25, mentions of sexual themes such as oral, vaginal penetration, pet names such as : sweetheart, angel, baby ofc, princess, honey, etc. usage of sexual terms and usage of terms describing female anatomy, uses she/her pronouns. firefighter! toji x baker! blk fem! reader 333 — word count : 8.0K or 9.0K, i lost track LOL

“fuck . .”

toji cut the engine of his ford pickup and sat for a moment, eyes closed, letting the silence wash over him. every muscle ached with exhaustion, the double shift of 48 hours catching up to him. he couldn't remember the last time he'd slept in an actual bed instead of snatching a few hours on the lumpy firehouse couch in between calls.

sighing, he grabs his duffel from the passenger seat and levers himself out of the truck. as he turns toward the house, a flash of color across the street quickly catches his attention. his new neighbor — you, out puttering in your postage stamp front yard, wearing a tank top the same vivid coral as the geraniums you were watering and cut-off jean shorts that barely qualified as clothing to any old, bitter bastard.

he’d seen you before. many times. whether it was while leaving for an early session at the gym as you walked your puppy, or his moving day . . where he could barely order around gojo and geto, struggling to tell them where they should place certain boxes due to hearing your alluring giggle coming from the house next door, your curls flowing in the breeze as you gossiped over iced lemonade with mrs. johnson on her porch.

his thoughts are interrupted when you glance toward him, face lighting up with a friendly smile as you spotted him. “hi there! nice to finally see you in the flesh instead of just passin’ headlights at odd hours of the night.”

“sorry about that.” toji hoped his answering smile passed for normal and not serial-killer exhausted. “i’m toji, toji fushiguro. i jus’ moved in last month.”

“well m’ yn. welcome to the neighborhood!” you propped a hand on one cocked hip, thoughtlessly drawing his eye to the thickness of your legs that almost looked golden in the sun lighting.

jesus.

realizing he was staring, he jerks his gaze back to your face, feeling his neck heat up at the idea of you catching on. “thanks. s’ a nice area. quiet.”

“i like to think we're a pretty welcomin’ bunch. in fact . . .” you bite your lip, looking almost shy for a second. “i was plannin’ to do some baking later, as a housewarming gift for all the newbies. any requests? cookies, muffins, scones? i make a mean cinnamon roll too.”

an unexpected warmth kindled in toji’s chest at the kindness of the offer. even as his stomach rumbled in anticipation, he couldn't remember the last time someone had gone out of their way to do something nice for him. sadly, baked goods didn't really tend to hold up well on 24-hour shifts.

“that’s really sweet of you, thanks. i love a good chocolate chip cookie, but i’ll happily be your guinea pig for anything.”

“sounds like a plan.” you graced him with another one of those classic, southern hospitality miles. “i’ll surprise you. they’ll be over before you know it!”

“looking forward to it. i better let you get back to . .” he waves a hand vaguely at the riot of flowers on your lawn, colors and smells galore.

“oh, right. see you soon then. welcome home!” with a small wave, you bend to retrieve the watering can, giving him an unobstructed view of her perky ass in those obscenely small shorts.

strangling a groan, toji spun on his heel and double-timed it into the house before you caught him ogling you like a creep. so much for a quiet neighborhood, he thought ruefully as the door shut behind him. you were gonna’ be one hell of a distraction, though some traitorous part of him looked forward to the temptation. it’d been way too long since he'd been around a pretty girl. maybe that's what all this edginess was - his libido waking up and taking notice after a long dry spell.

well, he'd just have to keep any wayward urges in check. no matter how mouthwatering you looked in tiny cutoffs, you were practically a decade younger and a neighbor, at that. off limits. he’d accept your baked goods, enjoy a little innocent flirting, but anything more was out of the question.

resolved, he headed for the shower, already counting the minutes until he could taste whatever delights you were whipping up for him.

the next morning, toji was on his second cup of coffee, basking in the rare luxury of an empty day ahead with no responsibilities, when the doorbell chimed. he opened it to find you, juggling a huge wicker basket with an equally enormous smile. the sweet scent of sugar, vanilla and chocolate wafted out to tease his nostrils so blissfully, just like how your sheer presence teased . . . other parts of him.

“g’mornin’,” you chirped. “i come bearing gifts from the sugar fairy.”

“so i smell . .” his mouth waters as he relieves you of the basket and ushers you inside, noting how your flowered sundress set off your peaches-and-cream personality. no shorts today, but the dress was nearly as enticing as it grasped on to your curves. he wondered if your skin would taste as good as you smelled, then mentally slapped himself.

down boy.

“i hope you don't mind me just droppin’ by like this. i wanted to catch you before you got busy.” your smile faltered slightly as you glanced around the spartan space with its generic bachelor furniture and decided lack of personal touches. “if s’ not a good time . .”

toji set the basket on the coffee table and turned to her, hands raised in mock surrender. “you came to my house bearin’ gifts of dessert. trust me, it's never gonna’ be a bad time. i may actually make some sort of sugar delivery beacon to summon you in the future.”

your laugh sounded a little relieved. “aww cute, sounds like my kind of bat signal. i’ll have to get you a spotlight shaped like a cupcake.”

“make it a cookie and you've got yourself a deal.” he grinned at you. “can i interest you in some coffee to go with whatever magic you've got in there? smells incredible.”

“coffee would be great, thank you.”

he led the way into the kitchen, noting how you took in details like the depressing lack of clutter and decoration. the only personal items were a handful of framed photos stuck to the fridge - him and his siblings as kids, his parents' wedding portrait, shots of fishing trips with his buddies — one with snow-white hair and the other with black. it struck him how sterile the space was, more like a way station than a home.

you didn't comment on it, instead you just leaned a hip on the counter and watched him pour a darkened substance into a ‘worlds worst morning person’ mug. there’s a comforting silence as he catches a whiff of your light perfume over the powerful espresso aroma - something floral and citrusy. it suited you.

“i wasn't sure what kind of treats you'd like, so i made a sampler of my greatest hits,” you say brightly. at his gesture, you unpack the basket, setting containers and various utensils on the table. “okay so . . we’ve got triple chocolate chip cookies, blueberry muffins, apple cinnamon scones, and my famous brown butter cinnamon rolls.”

“good lord,” toji shook his head in awe. “you made all this yesterday? after we spoke? do you even sleep?”

you laugh and accept the steaming mug he offered. “who needs sleep when there's sugar? besides, baking relaxes me. i love seeing people enjoy my creations.”

as if on cue, his stomach rumbles loudly, and you bit your lip against a smile. “sounds like someone's ready for a taste test. don’t be shy . . dig in.”

toji didn't need to be told twice. he selected a cinnamon roll, still warm from the oven, and bit in with a moan that would've been beyond embarrassing if his mouth wasn't full of heaven. “shit . . think i jus’ found my religion.”

you giggled that giggle that’d been stuck in his head since the day he heard it. “the cinnamon rolls tend to inspire a cult-like devotion. you haven't even tried em’ with the cream cheese frosting yet.”

he halted with the pastry halfway to his mouth for another rapturous bite. “there’s frosting too?”

in answer, you pulled a container from the basket with a flourish. “i figured you could handle adding your own so it didn't get soggy.”

“you’re an angel.” he slathered a generous amount of fluffy white frosting on the roll, not even caring that he probably looked like an overexcited kid.

watching him take another blissful bite, you cradled your coffee mug in both hands. “soo . . what d’you do that keeps you gettin’ home at such odd hours? i promise m’ not stalking you, but it's a quiet street. hard not to notice the comings and goings.”

toji washed down the sticky-sweet mouthful with a swig of coffee. “i’m a firefighter. we work 24-hour shifts, so my schedule can be pretty unpredictable."

interest sparked in your eyes. “really? that’s so cool! i bet you have some amazing stories.”

“eh. a few,” he allowed. truthfully he tried not to dwell on some of the things he'd seen, the memories that still occasionally jolted him awake in a cold sweat during the night. “it’s rewarding work, but not exactly a picnic for the social life.”

you give him a sympathetic look over the rim of her mug. “i can imagine. is that why you moved? needed a fresh start?”

“somethin’ like that. the job costed me my marriage a couple years back. got tired of walkin’ around the old place alone, so i thought a change of scenery might do me good.”

change of scenery in deed. toji even went as far as to relocate to a different state after his divorce with his wife. even the landscaping around the city had become too much of a heartache. what was once a happy, sensual marriage quickly turned sour the moment toji began working more. the position as chief hadn’t sounded that horrible in his head, but if he knew he’d come home one night - the clock reading exactly 3:17 am, to an unrecognizable man fast asleep in his bed, naked next to his wife, that that position could’ve waited. could’ve been passed on.

there’s a silent second between you two, your face still, “i-im so sorry,” you say softly, and toji feels relief when he sees that your eyes were warm with understanding, free of the pity he'd come to dread whenever his divorce came up in any other conversation he’d have with someone who didn’t know him.

he shrugged. “it is what it is. we married too young, grew apart. my hours didn't help. no hard feelings though.” he mustered up a wry smile. “what about you? you’re a little young to be living the retired grandma life, baking up a storm in the 'burbs.”

you grin, allowing him to lighten the mood. “hey, hey, hey, this grandma can party with the best of em’! fyi, i stayed up past 10 last saturday watching bad girls club.”

toji clutches his chest in feigned shock. “damn, so scandalous! what was the special occasion?”

“all have you know . . i was trying to perfect a new macaron recipe. passionfruit with dark chocolate ganache. they’re a fickle mistress though - one minute too long in the oven and they're as dry as bones.”

“sounds like bakin’ is more than jus’ a hobby for you,” he observed.

you toy with your mug. “it’s my whole life, really. i’m in my second year of culinary school, specializing in pastry arts. when i graduate, i’m hoping to open my own bakery. somewhere people feel welcome and cared for. a safe space, i suppose.” he stares, and you duck your head with an embarrassed laugh. “sorry for the tangent . . it probably sounds so silly.”

“not at all.” toji found himself impressed by the passion and dedication evident in your voice. you had a dream and you were going after it. he remembered that feeling. before the reality of adulthood had started chipping away at his own youthful idealism.

he wanted to say something to encourage you, to protect that light shining in your eyes for as long as possible. “for what it's worth, i think you're gonna’ be amazing,” he told you seriously, holding your gaze. “if this morning’s haul is any indication, you'll have lines around the block.”

you shield your smiling face sweetly. “that’s kind of you to say. i appreciate the vote of confidence. speaking of . .” you hesitate, then forge ahead. “m’ actually working on developing an original signature recipe for my final. multiple components, flavors, textures. the works.”

“sounds ambitious,” he said, eyebrows raised. “what’d you have in mind?”

your eyes sparkle with enthusiasm at the question, the thought of genuine curiosity making your heart flutter. “deconstructed black forest cake. dark chocolate cake, kirsch-soaked cherries, vanilla bean whipped cream. i wanna’ play with it, update it. maybe turn it into a trifle or a parfait of some sort.”

toji was no culinary expert. hell - he didn’t even know what half of those things were, but even he could tell you were on to something special. “that’s incredible, yn. lemme’ guess - you need a guinea pig?”

you bite your lip nervously, smile turning impish. “i didn't wanna’ impose, but since you offered the other day . . how would you like to be my official taste-tester? i can't really pay you, but you'll get free rein to sample every variation.”

“where do i sign up?” he was only half joking. even if your creations turned out to be awful, which he highly doubted, any excuse to spend more time with you sounded like a win.

you laugh. “i think i can waive the usual application process on account of the fact that you're doing me a huge favor. plus, it means you won't be able to avoid me constantly showing up at your door to force-feed you desserts.”

“oh no. however will i cope.” he feigned a put-upon sigh.

you shot him a look of amused reproof as she packed up the empty containers. “try to contain your disappointment. i promise to space out surprise sugar bombings. wouldn’t wanna’ make you sick of me or my baking."

“i don’t really think i ever could . . to be honest,” he declared firmly. on impulse, he reaches out to still your fluttering hands with his own. your skin was so soft and warm, sending a tingle zipping up his arm. your breath pauses at the contact and your eyes flew to his, startled.

“i mean it,” he said, voice gone low and intent as he tries to infuse sincerity into every word. “i can't imagine ever getting tired of you. or your company.”

for a suspended moment you just stare at each other in silence. then you swallow, sounding a little breathless as you replied, “likewise. m’ really glad you moved in, toji.”

“me too,” he said roughly. and though he knew he shouldn't, that he was venturing into dangerous territory, he allowed himself to stroke the delicate bones of your wrist with his thumb. just once, to feel your shiver lightly in response. then he released you and stepped back, moving to hold the door open for you in unspoken signal.

“i’ll get out of your hair now,” you murmured as you gathered the empty basket with hands that trembled just slightly. “but i’ll see you soon? for taste testing purposes, of course.”

“absolutely,” he confirmed. “anytime. y’know where to find me.”

with a final nod and smile, you slipped out the door. he watched you go, admiring the sway of your hips, the bounce of your hair, already counting the minutes until he'd see you again.

you were gonna’ end him, so so sweetly too., he realized with a trace of fatalism.

but what a way to go, huh? death by cinnamon rolls.

the day of the first official tasting arrived, and toji found himself unaccountably nervous as he approached your door. he felt a like an awkward kid picking up his prom date, palms sweaty and heart knocking around his ribs. which was ridiculous. this wasn't a date. just two neighbors getting together to sample some sweets. totally casual.

never mind that he'd changed his shirt three times, vacillating between wanting to look nice for you and not wanting to seem like he was trying too hard. he’d finally settled on a plain black tee and his least disreputable pair of jeans, adding a hint of cologne as an afterthought.

now, standing on your stoop, he wished he'd brought something. flowers maybe — lillie’s like the ones in your garden, or perhaps wine. did people bring wine to taste testing sessions? probably not. you’d most likely think he was a presumptuous idiot.

shaking his head at his own weird bout of nerves, he raised his hand to knock. before his knuckles could connect, the door swung open to reveal you, looking adorably pretty and flustered. you were wearing a frilly pink apron over a gauzy white sundress scattered with tiny red cherries. your hair was bundled on top of your head in a haphazard knot, loose curls escaping to dance around your swelled cheeks. a dusting of cocoa powder streaked one of them.

“toji - oh, you’re right on time! m’ runnin’ a bit behind, so sorry. come on in.” you stepped back to let him enter and he caught a blend of tantalizing scents - rich chocolate, sweet cherries, warm vanilla, and underneath, the subtle floral musk that was purely you. it made his head swim and his stomach clench with a hunger that had absolutely nothing to do with the promise of dessert.

he followed you into the kitchen, blinking a bit as he took in the transformation. when he'd helped you carry in groceries a few days ago, the room had been tidy and quaint, with cheerful yellow walls and kitschy retro appliances. now every surface was strewn with baking detritus - bowls, whisks, spatulas, piping bags. the air was hazy with a fine mist of flour and powdered sugar, swirling in the slanting sunlight.

incongruously delicate paper doilies serving as placemats were scattered with miniature cakes, puddles of sauce, and billows of snowy cream. it looked like a fancy bakery had exploded all over the place.

“as you can see, i’ve been experimenting with a few different iterations of the concept,” you said with a small smile, waving a hand at the sugary chaos. “couldn’t settle on just one. i thought i’d get your input n’ then we could narrow it down together.”

“i’m at your service,” he told you gallantly, skating his gaze over the counter. “i’ll warn you though, my palate isn't exactly refined. you might end up with the bland 'it all tastes good' as feedback.”

you giggled. “i’ll take it. okay, let's start basic.” you gestured for him to take a seat at the flour-dusted table and set a plate in front of him. on it perched a generous slice of cake, glossy with ganache, accompanied by a scarlet swoosh of what he assumed was the cherry compote. a dollop of whipped cream, flecked with black speckles, completing the overall masterpiece look.

toji quickly picked up the fork and took a bite, closing his eyes to focus on the flavors. the cake was intensely chocolate, the ganache dark and silky. tart-sweet cherries burst on his tongue, balanced by the subtle fragrance of the vanilla-specked cream.

“damn,” he mumbled around the mouthful. “fuckin’ fantastic, yn.”

you beam, looking relieved. “yeah? the cake recipe took a while to get right. i wanted something more . . . complex than a standard chocolate cake, so i used black cocoa powder to really amp up the flavor. n’ i even added a little coffee to enhance the chocolate.”

“s’ a winner,” he assured you. “i dunno’ how you could improve on it, honestly.”

“oh i have a few ideas,” your smile turned mysterious. “you haven't seen anything yet.”

over the next hour, you walked him through several variations. chocolate cake layered with cherry compote and kirsch-soaked chocolate cake crumbs, topped with cocoa whipped cream. dark chocolate and cherry bread pudding drizzled with cherry coulis. chocolate panna cotta with drunken cherries and cherry gelée . . . and toji sampled them all, humming with pleasure while you watched him anxiously. your initial nerves seemed to melt away as you lost yourself in describing the ins and outs of each dish - the technical challenges, the way certain flavors complemented or contrasted, ideas for garnishes and plating.

he found himself captivated by your intensity, the way your whole being lit up when you talked about your craft. it was more than just a job or a hobby for you . . . it was a calling. he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt that kind of soul-deep passion for anything. couldn’t take his eyes off the way your slender hands sketched shapes in the air, punctuating your words. delicate, clever hands that created so much beauty.

“earth to toji,” teased, waving one of those mesmerizing hands in front of his face. “did i lose you? too much of a sugar crash?”

toji blinked and refocused on your amused expression, realizing he'd been caught woolgathering like an idiot. “sorry, just slipped into a brief dessert coma. what were you saying?”

“i was asking what you think of this last one. it’s the more . . . wildcard of the bunch.” you pushed a small glass toward him. it looked like a miniature trifle, with layers of cake and cream, a vivid cherry layer in the middle, and a fan of shaved chocolate on top.

he dug in and had to suppress an absolutely obscene moan. the combination was incredible - velvety smooth, creamy, rich, and fruity, with a kick from what had to be a generous glug of kirsch. sweet but not cloying, a sophisticated twist on a classic.

“i think we have a winner,” he managed, not even caring that his voice came out husky. “if you're going for adding a 'wow' factor, this is it.”

you stand on your tippy-toes, looking hopeful. “you think? i couldn't decide if it was too out there. verrines aren't exactly traditional black forrest cake material.”

“doesn’t matter. it’s a showstopper. interesting to look at, fun to eat, n’ the flavor is phenomenal.” he scraped the glass clean with his spoon, not wanting to waste a drop.

your smile could've lit up the city block. “thank you, toji. you don't know how much it means to me, you bein’ here. lettin’ me talk your ear off and stuff you with treats. it really . . helps a lot."

“believe me, it's my pleasure,” he said, returning her smile with one of his own. “i haven't had this much fun in . . i can't even remember how long. i like seein’ you in your element.”

you both just grin goofily at each other for a moment, the air feeling thicker. then you hopped up and began clearing the table, stacking dishes and bustling around the small space.

“y’know i feel bad, you feedin’ me all these goodies without me contributing anything,” toji said, rising to help. “at least lemme’ take you out for a meal that isn't 90% butter and sugar. you must be sick of cookin’, day in and day out.”

you slanted him a glance, tucking a stray curl behind one ear. “m’ not, actually. it never feels like a chore. but i . . wouldn't say no to dinner out. if you're sure you don't mind.”

mind? he’d been trying to come up with an excuse to spend more time with you, and here you were gift wrapping one for him. “i’d love to,” he said firmly. “s’ the least i can do. and i’d like to hear more about this final project of yours. when do you present it?”

“next month,” a shadow crossed your expressive face, there and gone in a blink. “m’ tryin’ not to think too much about it yet. one step at a time, y’know?”

he recognized that look. the flickering uncertainty, the hint of stage fright. he’d worn it himself, back before his first real fire. wanting so badly to prove himself, to show what he was made of, terrified of choking.

impulsively, he reached for your hand, halting her flitting movements. your fingers curled reflexively around his, warm and strong. “look at me . . . you got this. you’re a star, you're gonna’ impress the hell outta’ your professors.”

you swallowed hard, eyes searching his. looking for the belief you couldn't quite muster on your own. “i hope so. i want it so much, toji. this . . all of it. it’s all i’ve ever wanted.”

“then don't let fear hold you back,” he told you gently. “don’t doubt yourself. you have a gift, mama. i know m’ a dumb scrub who can barely tell a macaron from a macaroon, but even i can see that you were born for this shit.”

your hand squeezed his, almost painfully tight. from both the nickname rolling off his tongue so elegantly and the encouragement that you sometimes failed to receive from your closest peers. “thank you, seriously,” you whispered. “for believin’ in me, i guess. it means a lot to me . . .”

he squeezes back, thumb sweeping over your knuckles. he had a sudden, wild urge to haul your into his arms. to soothe the worry from your brow with his lips, to show you with his hands and body and breath how special you were. how much he'd come to care for you in such a short time.

but he couldn't. however strong the pull, however much he wanted to cross that line, he knew it would be a mistake. you weren’t for him, this shining woman with stardust in her eyes. and he was in no position to offer you anything real. he needed to remember that.

so he contented himself with a soft “anytime,” and released your hand, stepping back to a safer distance. “now, about that dinner. friday work for you?”

you blinked, then hitched your smile back into place. it wobbled a bit at the edges, but he pretended not to notice. “friday’s great. s’ a . . . plan.”

even through the awkwardness, the unspoken words clogging the air between you, a little thrill went through him. it’s a date, you’d almost said. and god help him, he wished it was — that’s why you settled on making plans to try the new, cozy italian restaurant that had opened downtown, the one you’d mentioned wanting to visit after a neighborhood watch meeting one night. it was intimate . . . romantic. toji walked home with a lightness in his step, an unfamiliar flutter in his gut. he was in trouble, he knew he was. you were trouble in ways he hadn't encountered before. you made him feel too much.

more than he ever had.

but he was in too deep to back out now. all he could do was try to keep a clear head, keep things casual and platonic. be your friend and supporter, nothing more. his life, his job . . there was no room for complications.

even if he was beginning to suspect it was already far too late.

the days leading up to friday passed in a blur of anticipation and nerves, though toji did his best to ignore both. ‘it isn’t a date. she’s not into you. this isnt a fuckin’ date . . .’ he reminded himself sternly, no matter how much his idiot heart wanted to pretend otherwise. just dinner between neighbors. a thank you for your tireless taste testing efforts. nothing to get all hot n’ bothered about.

so then why the fuck had he changed outfits half a dozen times before settling on the nicest button-down he owned and a new pair of dark wash jeans? why had he agonized over whether to bring flowers or wine or both . . again? this was so embarrassing. he was so embarrassing. he’d think being married once would've meant he had at least a little bit of game . . but nope - he had nothing.

taking a deep breath, he knocked on your door at precisely 7pm. when it swung open to reveal you, his lungs almost stopped in their tracks. you looked no less than stunning in a ruffled dress, in the pretty shade of baby-pink, your hair tumbling over your bare shoulders - half up, half down and bumped at the ends. a slim gold chain nestled in the hollow of your throat, shamefully drawing his eyes down to the swells of your titties.

“fuck . .” he said inanely, tongue suddenly clumsy in his mouth. “m’ so sorry. forgive me, i mean, you look . . absolutely amazing.”

a shy smile curved your lips, brightening your whole face up. “thanks . . so do you, toji.” your eyes skimmed over him appreciatively and he fought the urge to preen.

“o-oh, these are for you.” he thrusts the slightly wilted grocery store bouquet at you, wincing inwardly at his own awkwardness.

but you just smile, cradling the limp blooms like they were something so precious. “how sweet of you! i love daisies. lemme’ jus’ put these in some water and we can go.” you disappeared into the kitchen, leaving him to marvel at how such a simple gesture could delight you so thoroughly. damn, you were so lovely. inside and out.

the drive to the restaurant was filled with easy conversation interspersed with comfortable silences. toji let you be in control of the radio, secretly charmed by your off-key humming to the cheesy pop songs in rotation on your playlist. he could imagine countless nights like this, aimless drives with no destination in mind, just content to be in your company with no one to bother.

and dinner was a laughter-filled affair, trading bites of pasta and garlicky bread, arguing playfully over the merits of various desserts. you entertained him with customer service horror stories from your barista days, confessing your penchant for ‘accidentally’ giving rude patrons decaf.

in turn, toji found himself sharing more than he usually did - funny anecdotes about his buddies at the firehouse, his worries about his little sister starting college in the fall, even a bit about his dad. the words came without effort, drawn out by your natural warmth and empathy.

he couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed anyone's company so effortlessly.

when the check came, he wouldn't let you even reach for it. you rolled your eyes but allowed him to pay, primly informing him you were getting the next one. his stomach flipped at the unthinking promise of a next time.

you then lingered over coffee and dessert - the restaurant's version didn't even hold a candle to your black forest verrines, but you were too polite to say so - neither wanting the evening to end. toji watched you lick chocolate from your spoon, entranced by the tiny pink flash of your tongue. wishing he could lean in and taste the sweetness of your mouth. a pleasant shiver chased over his skin, heat simmering low in his belly. he’d never wanted anyone the way he wanted you - this maddening mix of tender and carnal, the urge to both protect and possess.

“mmm,” you purred appreciatively, pulling the spoon from your mouth with an obscene pop. “whoever said that chocolate isn’t better than sex clearly hadn't tasted chocolate like this.”

toji swallowed hard, adam's apple bobbing convulsively in his throat. “playin’ with fire are we?” he manages to rasp, fingers clenching around his mug.

you placed the spoon delicately on your empty plate, fingers lingering just long enough to draw his attention to their graceful dance. “who says i’m playin’, handsome?” you quip.

he was so fucked. so. totally. fucked.

afterwards, he walked you to your door, hands shoved deeply n’ awkwardly into his pockets to keep from doing something stupid like reaching for your hand. you then hovered on the stoop, the sultry summer night pressing in close.

“i had fun tonight,” you softly. in the light spilling from your living room window, your eyes were luminous. hopeful. “we should really do it again sometime.”

“we should,” he agreed, mouth dry. he couldn't look away from your face, tracing the delicate arch of your brows, the dark feathering of your lashes. you swayed closer, tipping your face up to his, and his heartbeat kicked into overdrive. god, you were killing him.

it took every ounce of willpower to step back, to force a chuckle past the ache in his chest. “well i should let you get your beauty sleep. early start tomorrow, right?” your smile faltered, a brief tightening around your eyes hinting at disappointment. he almost caved right then, almost said to hell with his reservations and dragged you into his arms the way he'd been dying to do all night.

but he couldn't. not when he had nothing more to offer you than heartache.

“right,” you murmured. “beauty sleep. so important for . . . baking.” you fumbled for your keys, not quite meeting his gaze. “i’ll see you round’ then.” he could only watch you retreat into the house, torn between relief at the bullet dodged and an overwhelming sense of loss.

wearily, he turned to go back to his own quiet home. he’d done the right thing. the smart thing. so why did it feel so damnably hollow?

avoidance was the order of the day after that near-miss. though it pained him, toji forced himself to keep some distance, to not make up flimsy excuses to show up on your doorstep at all hours of the night. no more dessert development sessions, no matter how much he craved the sight of you gushing and twirling over your latest creations. no more cute, little dinners with furtive hand holding under the table.

he threw himself into work with even more zeal than usual, pulling extra shifts and helping out with the neverending station chores. if the guys ribbed him about his sudden devotion to alphabetizing the equipment room or polishing the engine to a blinding shine, he shrugged it off. it was loads better than going home to an empty house haunted by what-ifs.

he ached to see you though. sometimes he'd catch a glimpse of you catering to your garden or heading off to the market, and his fingers would itch with the urge to go to you, to close the seemingly unbridgeable gap between you both with long strides and strong arms. more than once he'd picked up his phone to call you, thumb hesitating over your smiling face in his contacts until he cursed and tossed the phone aside.

it was for the best, he told himself firmly. you had your whole life ahead of you - school and internships, building your dream from the ground up. he’d only get in the way, bog you down with his everlasting issues and cynicism. he wouldn't, couldn't be the dead weight holding you back.

even if letting you go felt like tearing himself in half.

he should've known you wouldn't let him slink away so easily. that for all your sweetness, you were just as stubborn as he was. you’d never been one to give up on the things - or people - you wanted.

which bring us to now . . you ambushing him on his way home from a grueling 48-hour shift, looking unfairly pretty and indignant as you marched across the street to plant yourself in front of his truck. he barely bit back a groan, exhaustion and longing a potent cocktail in his bloodstream.

“hey, stranger,” you said archly, fine brows drawn together in a scowl. “long time no annoy.”

he cut the engine and climbed out, suddenly self-conscious about his unwashed, smoke-saturated state. “hi, yn. how’s it going?”

“ah, y’know. jus’ workin’ myself to the bone, trying to perfect this dessert that's only the culmination of my entire academic career thus far. while also attempting to figure out how i mysteriously pissed off my friend to the point of complete radio silence.” your arms crossed over your chest, a hint of hurt flickering in your eyes, “so yeah . . the usual.”

guilt lodged under his breastbone, sharp and corroding. he’d never meant to upset you, to make you think any of this was at all your fault. “shit, yn. i’m sorry . . i didn’t mean to ignore you, i’ve just been so -”

“busy . .” you finished for him, mouth flattening. “mhm, i’ve noticed. so busy you ignored all my calls n’ texts - missed our dinner the other night too. you’ve been practically living at the station lately.”

he grimaced, one hand scrubbing over his stubbled jaw. he’d never been any good with words, with making excuses. especially when faced with eyes that seemed to see right through his every defense, “you’re right. i’ve been avoiding you. but not because of anything you did. i jus’ . . needed some space to clear my head.”

your arms tightened, gaze dropping to the oil-stained pavement. “i thought we were having fun,” you said quietly. “gettin’ to know each other. but if i misread things, if i made you uncomfortable in any way i really am so sorr . . .”

“no.” he interrupted fiercely, taking an involuntary step closer. close enough to smell the light, citrusy scent of you, to see the faint mascara smudges of sleeplessness under your eyes. “you didn't misread anything, yn. these past weeks, spendin’ time with you . . . s’ been amazing. the most fun i’ve had in years, if i’m being honest.”

confusion clouded your expression. “then why?”

“because m’ a goddamn mess,” he bit out, the truth clawing its way up his throat. “because you’re brilliant, and you’re goin’ places . . n’ i wouldn’t be able to give you my time in the way that i know you more than deserve. i wanna smell muffins in the mornin’ . . not the smell of musty men and water hoses.”

he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before sitting his stuff on the hood of his car, “i jus’,” he started, “i’ve done the dating thing, alright? the marriage thing too, y’know that. i jus’ . . i cant afford to lose another person in my life that i care about — not when i’ve come this far to prevent it n’ when they’re as sweet and pretty, and as kind as you.” you stand in silence, letting him vent, “i’m not perfect. m’ terrible at cooking, i sing in the shower, n’ on top of all that i fuckin’ snore like a grizzly bear. ya’ still want me now?”

you took a step forward, hand coming up to fist in the front of his t-shirt. he inhaled sharply at the sudden press of your soft curves against his hard planes, the way your gaze dropped to his mouth.

“yeah, you grumpy old fuck . . i still want you,” you whispered fiercely. “mess, snores and all.”

he softened as you pressed a kiss onto his cheek, gentle and warm with truce, “i have my own damn baggage. y’think thats stoppin’ me from goin’ after what i want? no. so jus’ stop bein’ such an asshole n’ kiss me alread - mmph!” — that was it. that was the straw that’d broken the camel’s back. with a muttered curse, his control had finally snapped. he hauled you flush against him, one arm banding around your waist as the other hand sank into your hair, cradling the back of your head. you made a soft, needy sound and surged up on tiptoe, sealing your mouth to his.

the first touch of your lips was electric, a livewire straight to his core. they were exactly as soft and sweet as he'd imagined, moving over his with an urgency that matched his own. he angled his head to slant his mouth more firmly over your, licking at the seam of your lips as you licked on the scar on his.

he swept his tongue into your mouth, stroking over yours, swallowing the low moan that vibrated in her throat. you tasted like peppermint and the vaguest hint of sugar, an addictive flavor he already knew he'd never get enough of. your arms twined around his neck, blunt nails scraping deliciously at his nape as you pressed impossibly closer.

dimly, he registered the whoops and catcalls of a passing group of neighbors, but he couldn't bring himself to care. let em’ gawk. the whole damn neighborhood could come out to watch and he still wouldn't be able to tear himself away from your sweetness.

he was a man possessed.

the kiss deepened, turning hot and hungry. toji backed you up against his front door, hands roaming greedily over your curves as he pressed the hard length of his body into your soft warmth. you made yet another sound into his mouth, lifting one leg to wrap around his hip, opening yourself up to him.

he tore his lips from yours only to trail open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, tasting the salt on your skin from the sweat of the hot summer sun. “fuck . . i want you,” he growled against your pulse point. “wanna’ touch you, taste you, feel you. if you’ll let me . . of course.”

“wow, such a gentlemen,” you gasped, hands scrabbling at his shoulders. “please fuckin’ do, toji.” patience fraying, he fumbled for his keys and somehow managed to get the door open without releasing you. you stumbled over the threshold, shedding clothes haphazardly between searing kisses - your flimsy blouse fluttering to the floor, followed by smoke stained his t-shirt.

toji walked you backwards down the hall to his bedroom, kicking the door shut before tossing you onto the bed. he followed you down, covering your entire frame with his own, reveling in the feel of all your bare skin finally against him. you were a vision in the spill of afternoon light, curls fanned across his pillow, pink lace bra and panties a tantalizing contrast to your brown skin.

he took a moment just to admire you, committing every detail to memory. the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips parted on shallow breaths. heavy-lidded eyes hazy with want and something deeper, more tender.

“been dreamin’ about you, princess. shit - you’re so gorgeous.” he rasped, nipping at your earlobe with each word, “so pretty, so beautiful, so smart.”

you shivered, fingernails raking over his shoulders, “nngh - c’mon stoppit, toji . .” growling low in his throat, he captured your lips in a nasty kiss, all teeth and tongue. large hands cupping your full titties, calloused thumbs rubbing your nipples into stiff peaks. and you arched into his touch with a moan, shameless in your pleasure.

“someone’s eager, hm?”

breaking the kiss, he began to work his way down your body, mapping every dip and curve with lips and teeth and tongue. he paid thorough attention to your titties, laving at the dark-brown nipples until you were panting and squirming beneath him.

“b-baby, please . .” you whimpered, fingers sinking into his hair to urge him lower.

he only chuckled darkly against your flesh. “patience, sweetheart. m’ not goin’ anywhere. let me love you.”

true to his word, he set about exploring you - kissing a meandering path down your ribs and belly, dipping his tongue into your navel just to hear you gasp. strong hands gripped your thighs, pushing them further and further apart so he could settle more comfortably between them.

hooking his fingers in your lacy panties, he dragged the scrap of fabric down your legs. “fuck yeah, look at you. so wet for me already. look at this pussy . .”

you mewled as he licked a broad stripe up your slit, circling your puffy clit with the tip of his tongue. he sealed his lips around the sensitive nub and sucked, fingers delving into your soaked entrance, curling to find that special spot inside you.

“o-ooh my god — yes!” your back bowed off the bed, a vibration spreading down your chest as he worked you higher. he paid close attention to your most tender skin, alternating between broad, flat licks and quick, targeted flicks. crooking his fingers just so, he rubbed and rubbed until he found — “ah f-fuck!” your g-spot, feeling your thighs start to tremble around his head.

“thas’ it, bunny - cum on my tongue. i wanna’ see it all, mama. c’mon, i know you can do it,” the filthy words combined with the relentless stimulation quite literally pushed you over the edge . . and you came with a sharp cry, gushing your juices all over his lips and chin. he groaned at the taste of you, lapping up every last drop, addicted already.

while you were still quivering and coming down from your high, toji fumbled blindly for the nightstand drawer. he managed to retrieve a condom without taking his eyes off of you. ripping open the packet with his teeth, he sat back on his knees to quickly sheath himself.

you took the opportunity to admire his body, running appreciative hands over his muscular chest and abdomen. he was all tanned skin and chiseled muscle, a sparse trail of dark hair pointing the way to his impressive erection. it jutted from a thatch of coarse curls, thick and flushed nearly purple, the bulbous head glistening with excitement.

wrapping your fingers around his rigid length, you stroked him base to tip, twisting your wrist on the upstroke so that the condom slips right back off. toji grunted, hips bucking into your touch as you rubbed your thumb over the leaking slit. you pause, your mouth watering as you begin to lower your head down. you press the side of your face against his thigh, peering up at him with batting lashes and a poked lip. your ass is arched - high in the air and wiggling as if you just wanted him to smack it.

that’s when you began slapping his heavy dick against your cheek, repeatedly, “so big, baby,” you whisper, now positioning your face to where his cock could sit right on top of it - “can i put it in m’mouth? please . .?”

“yn you don’t have to -”

“i want to.”

toji looked down at you once more, the look of want in your eyes . . . how could he resist?

he gently grabs the side of your neck, firm but not firm enough to cause pain, his other hand curling around the base of his cock as he whispered, “open wide. tongue out,” biting his lip as he braces himself for the sensation of your mouth wrapped around him.

that’s when your wet tongue dances out tentatively, tracing the ridge of his head before retreating back to safety inside your mouth. it was clear that you were just as lust filled as him. toji could feel himself pulsing with need as you took him in deeper and deeper, a low groan escaping him, “shit, doll - got it all to fit . . good girl.” your hands gripped his hips tightly, nails digging into his skin as you bobbed your head up and down. toji swore he could fall in love with the simple, yet beautifully disgusting sound of your throat — gawk, gulp, gawk! ugh, they were such disgusting noises - some gagging here, some moaning there, but he couldn’t have asked for anything better. you were slobbing, spitting, and choking on his dick and the only thing getting in your way from taking him whole was the fact that his size was still fairly new to you.

“sss’ ooh fuck - b-baby . . yn -” he hisses, both your eyes and his rolling to the back of your heads as you continue to gulp him down, spit trickling down to your tits as they jiggled to the rhythm of your mouth. each and every glide against your tongue was starting to overpower him, and before he knew it, if you didn’t stop he was bout’ to —

“cum . . m’gonna cum! m’fuckin’ cumming - asshhit . .” he groaned, eyes tightly closing as you continued to deepthroat him the best you could, “don’t stop, keep suck - y-yes . .” it was a hassle - a big one, but the taste of him warm cum painting your throat felt like a sweet reward.

almost sweeter than your baked goods.

whining and still aching to suck on him some more, toji pulls you off in fear of shaking more than he already was — and the sight of you with his cum dripping out of your mouth only did the complete opposite.

“uh, well then . . how’d i do?” you say shyly, as if you hadn’t just completely slutted out your mouth for your next door neighbor.

a surprised bark of laughter escaped him even as his cock jerked at you eagerly. “don’t exile me, but that mouth . . shit, might be better than your cookies. not gonna’ lie, sweetheart . .” toji growled, and you pout as he’s prowling back over you. you then watch him slowly, his fingers unexpectedly plunging back into your pussy as he scoops some of your wetness onto the pad of them before pulling them back out. he fists the base and tip of himself, smothering his cock in your juices as lubricant as he teases your entrance with a few pats n’ nudges. fuckin’ tease. he kept on until you were angrily swatting his chest to put the damn thing in already.

who could blame your lust? after all . . you’d been dreaming about it for weeks now.

yet again, he snags another rubber, strokes a little, and once he’s in, “oh s-shit that pussy's tight, baby . .” he’s in. you moaned in tandem, dick snuggling into your tight walls inch by excruciating inch. you were warm and wet and perfect around him, gripping him like a silken vise. it was magical, just like you - but the look on your face . . oh that look, almost seemed like you wanted to be broken. with your arms above your head, your titties swaying against your chest and your whines now hoarse n' pleading — he kinda wanted to break you too.

toji started with slow, deep strokes, mindful of your tightness and his considerable girth. he didn't want to hurt you, wanted to savor every clench and flutter around his aching cock. wanted this to last, to burn this moment into his brain forever.

“f-feel so fuckin' good wrapped around me,” he gritted out, hips rolling in a lazy figure eight that had you keening. “y’so wet, honey . . dick feel that good?”

“toji,” you whimpered brokenly, fingernails scoring down his flexing back. “more, please . . need it harder . .”

and how could he deny you anything when you begged so sweetly? bracing his weight on his forearms, he obliged, snapping his hips forward with more force. the headboard started to thump against the wall, the mattress creaking beneath your writhing bodies.

“like that, baby? hm?” he panted against your throat, sweat beading at his temples as he drove into you again and again, his cock damn near slipping out of you from the slippery speed. “this what you need? me splittin' this pretty pussy open?”

“yes d-daddy . . ” you wailed, back arching like a drawn bow. your cunt was fluttering around him, a telltale sign of your impending orgasm. “aah - don't stop, don’t stop, m'so close!”

“shh, i got you,” he promised, shifting the angle of his hips to grind against your clit with every thrust. “gonna’ make this pussy sing for me, gonna’ wring the cum outta’ you 'til you're shakin' on me. you want that?” his filthy words seemed to be your undoing because suddenly you were clenching down on him like a vice, a sharp cry tearing from your throat as you thrashed beneath him. your release gushed hot and slick around his pistoning length, drenching his groin and thighs with sweetness.

“f-fuck yeah,” toji choked out, his own rhythm faltering as your rippling walls threatened to milk him dry. “good girl, sweetheart, cream on this dick, lemme’ feel you.” he managed a handful more erratic thrusts before his own orgasm crashed into him like a freight train. he buried himself to the hilt and stilled, a hoarse shout muffled into your sweat damped shoulder as he spilled himself into the condom. his cock jerked and twitched with every pulse, vision nearly whiting out with the force of it.

for long moments, you both just shook and gasped, clinging to each other as aftershocks rolled through your bodies. toji's heart was thundering so hard he was sure you could feel it through his sweat-slick chest. he'd never come so hard in his life, never felt so utterly shattered and remade.

you made a soft, satisfied sound as he carefully withdrew from your heat, rolling to the side to dispose of the condom with a quick knot. then he was gathering you close again, palm smoothing up your spine as you burrowed into him with a sigh.

“shit,” you eventually mumbled into the heated skin of his throat. “that was . . .”

“ . . fuckin' heavenly,” he finished roughly, a laugh rumbling in his chest as he felt your answering huff of amusement. “m’ sorry i uh . . came so fast. i don’t usually -”

“did you just apologize to me because my pussy is good?” you teased, dragging your nose along the edge of his stubbled jaw. he could feel the curve of your smile, the unabashed joy, and it settled something deep within him. soothed the ragged pieces he'd thought long broken.

“damn straight,” he agreed, arms tightening around you possessively. “i can die a happy man now.”

“well, you're not allowed to die on me now, toji. you're stuck with me. escape if you can.”

“mm, is that right,” he nuzzled into your hair, breathing in the scent of you - all warm woman and satisfaction.

“mhmm. you're not getting rid of me easily. i still have so many desserts to force on you, so many early morning baking sessions to drag you into . .”

he laughed outright at that, at the sheer exuberance in your voice. “promises, promises.”

“oh i always keep my promises, mister. which reminds me . .” you pushed up on an elbow, eyes sparkling with mischief and something deeper. something that snatched the breath from his lungs. “i seem to remember you saying something about round two . .”

“did i? care to refresh my memory?” he growled, even as he was already rolling you beneath him again, mouth seeking yours. you then feel his palm colliding with your ass in a gentle spank. “what am i gonna’ do with you?”

“everything.” you breathed against his lips, a vow. “anything. i want you, toji. want everything with you.” and fuck, what could he say to that? what could he do but kiss you like a promise, a prayer, and proceed to show you just how much he wanted that too? wanted to give you everything, anything, all he had to offer?

he'd never been a man of many words. but this - loving you with hands and mouth and body, breaking you apart and putting you back together again and again until you were both sweat-soaked and shaking . . this he could do. this he would do for the rest of his life if you'd let him.

“you’ve got me.”

and from the joyous half-sob of his name as he sank back into your pussy, the way your body opened for him like a flower to the sun, he had a feeling you just might too.

there would be time for more words later - time for confessions and plans and mapping out a future he'd never even let himself dream of before. time to make good on promises whispered into heated skin, to build something real and lasting brick by brick. but for now, in the honeyed afternoon light with your legs wrapped around his waist and your heart in his hands . . let himself get lost. let himself drown in sensation and emotion, in this miraculous woman he didn't deserve but who'd chosen him anyway.

from lost to found, in the space of a heartbeat. and all because an angel in a garden had smiled at him across a sunny street and offered up a little piece of heaven. he'd never know what he'd done to deserve you, or this second chance. but he'd spend the rest of his days earning this gift, cherishing it.

cherishing you.

that was a promise. and like his beautiful girl . . toji fushiguro always kept his promises.

©️ SATORUBI - please do not copy, translate, or modify my work without my approval ! thank you for playing . . the challenge has only just begun.

[s0dium]

Warning: Riding monster form! Sukuna on his throne, fingering, virginity loss, lots of cum

Sukuna honestly wonders if you can take him in his monster form. Like, really wonders.

He knew it would only be a matter of time before he was done with Yujis body and his true form would appear, monstrous and large. So he wondered, could a cute human like you, handle him? Or perhaps the better question is, could you handle being fucked by him? Yes, the question lingered in his mind ever since he laid eyes on you through Yuji's body.

So when the time came, and Sukuna ate the last finger, he knew he would have to put the question to the test. The transition was swift and unsettling—a violent surge of power that reshaped megumi's body into Sukuna's true, towering form. Needless to say, you were, well, shocked. The world around you warped, the reality bending as he whisked you away to his domain, a realm where shadows clung to ancient stones and the air thrummed with untamed power.

Despite the overwhelming force of his presence, fear didn't take hold of you as one might expect. Instead, a mix of awe and apprehension filled your chest as you were suddenly pulled into the heart of his shrine where a throne lay in the middle. Sukuna, now fully his ten-foot-tall self, seated you on his lap with an ease that belied his monstrous size. One of his four large hands cupped your chin, gently but firmly tilting your face up to meet his gaze. The sheer intensity of his four eyes could have frozen a lesser soul, but you, no, you only trembled slightly—not from fear, but curiosity?

The fact that you didn't flinch or cower seemed to both surprise and intrigue him. His grin widened, sharp and dangerous, as if your bravery added an unexpected flavor to a game he thought he had mastered.

"Interesting," he murmured, the word rumbling through his chest and into your ears. His movements were deliberate as his hands reached out, the air tense. Each gesture was measured, almost reverent, as he carefully began to peel away the layers of your clothing.

You don't even know what going on until you have been stripped completely, all the way down to your bra and underwear. You watch with wide eyes as he parts his robe and pulls out...

Holy shit.

Your heart drops and your brain goes blank. To call Sukuna's dick huge would be like calling the ocean a puddle; it's an understatement of epic proportions. An average 6 inches? try 11. There's no way that could possibly fit in you. Your hand couldn't even fit around it alone.

"I don't… what are you doing? What, I don't…" you babble, utterly overwhelmed and flustered by his sheer size. You thickly gulp when you see his fat angry red tip twitch and you move your hips away to retreat, but one of Sukunas strong hands keeps you secured on his leg. Sukuna chuckles, a deep, resonant sound that only adds to your confusion and embarrassment. His amusement at your reaction is evident, making you feel even smaller in his grasp.

"What, you scared?" He coos mockingly, hooking a thick finger under the hem of your panties and pulling the thin fabric down your legs. "But look, you are already so wet."

You hated how much he was right, but you couldn't deny the pool of arousal at the base of your underwear. Slowly, Sukuna slides one of his long finger inside your wet cunt, your pussy instantly squeezing at the foreign intrusion. Jesus, his singular finger is almost as big as an average dildo. You whine when he curls his middle finger to his palm; hitting places you could only dream of hitting yourself. Two trembling hands grab onto Sukunas robes to keep yourself steady as you grind your hips on his hand; desperately trying to get more out of the pleasure.

"Don't worry, I'll get you ready before the real thing."

Your about to say something when Sukuna pushes the back of your head forward until his lips capture yours. His tongue, unusually large and powerful, invades your mouth with aggressive fervor, leaving you breathless and unable to resist. You whine against his mouth and from the pleasure, his palm rubbing nicely against your clit. You can faintly hear the sloshing noises down your sex from Sukunas ceaseless fingering. It was warm, everything was warm; your face, your tummy, Sukuna’s hands, and wet mouth on you. Your legs were trembling and you couldn't think so much as breathe. But just when you are about to fall off the edge, Sukuna pulls away and stops all ministrations from your body.

Fat hot tears clouded your sight and started to spill down your flushed red face from the pleasure that had been snatched away from you. “No no no no please I-i-i’ll be good please dont s-stop.” You attempted to grab Sukunas hand and pull it back to you but he quickly swatted it away.

"Didnt I tell you? Im preparing you for the real thing."

Sukuna grasps either end of your hips with two of his four arms, lifting you just above his lap. You find yourself straddling him, but he keeps you hovering over him, so your entrance is aligned with his tip.

"Wait woah wait wait-"

It's too late. You let out a choked scream at the feeling of his thick hard member forcefully spreading your tight insides, and oh my god you have never felt so fucking full in your life right now. You squirm and writhe against his hold, desperately trying to get away from the massive length penetrating you. Fat hot tears stream down your face as he lowers you onto him. Sukuna grits his teeth, maybe he underestimated how small your hole would be, you are only halfway down his dick and he cant seem to lower you any farther. Furthermore, Sukuna gravely underestimated how tight, warm, and gummy your walls, like molten honey solidifying into a vice, trapping him in a relentless, clinging embrace.

“Shit your tight, loosen up a bit would ya?” He tries to push you down even more but his tip is already smooshed against your cervix. The pressure on your cervix and the stretch of your walls around his dick knocks the wind out of you, and Sukuna groans at the way your pussy tightens in an attempt to push out the foreign intrusion.

Sukuna’s about to pull you out to thrust into you again, when he notices a trickle of blood from your pussy drip down his balls, the realization of what it meant making him grin.

“Shit your actually a fucking virgin aren’t you.”

Your too lost in the pain and slight foreign pleasure to register the question, and he takes the silence as a yes.

“Good.”

You let out a scream when he pulls out and thrusts back into you. The sudden thrust makes your eyes roll back from the dull painful pleasure coursing through your veins. To be fair a part of Sukuna told him to go slow, to be kinder on you since you were just a small weak human. But from the way your hot sticky walls sucked him in, and how you looked at him, Jesus, how you looked at him, like he was your god, made him lose control.

Your drooling now, as his lifts you up and down his dick like a fucking sex toy. It was dizzying, the curvature of his dick digging itself against your g-spot, scraping against your vaginal walls every time he slams you down on his length. The friction is incredible and it made pain quickly turn into pleasure. Waves of overwhelming sensations surged through your body, filling you completely and sending waves of euphoria cascading through every nerve, making you shudder with an intense, almost blissful delight.

"Shit, feel better than I expected." Sukuna grunts. "Gonna have to do this every day, all the time."

And suddenly—you feel it. What you’ve heard about from friends or seen in porn.

Its like all your bodies energy centers are activating at once and your left utterly helpless to the feeling of tingling ecstasy wrapping your brain and stomach.

You dont know how to tell him that something is happening, not when the pleasure is too immense your barley breathing full breaths. But Sukuna understands the words you tried to desperately to communicate.

“Do it slut. Cum. I’ll fill you up, and if it spills ill fuck it back into you.”

As of on command, the knot in your stomach bursts, and you are thrown toward a euphoric grave.

“Sh-Shit, shit, fuuuuck~” He chuckles into your ear, choking over his words as his hips sputter inside of you, hot cum fills you as much as you can hold inside of your stuffed cunny. Theres so much of his cum that is rolls back down the base of his cock and on his balls.

"Fuck, you did good, so good."

[lokisgoodgirl]

Be Mine [Loki x Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: A morning meeting has an unexpected twist. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Language. Smutty. Avenger!Loki x Female Reader. Questionable flirting techniques. (w/c 2.8k)

The muscle at the side of Loki’s jaw flexed. He swallowed; an achingly glacial bob of his Adam’s apple making you want to claw your eyes out.

For some inexplicable reason he had opted to wear full leathers to today’s briefing.

It was seven nineteen in the AM. Thor was sporting a muscle vest boasting not one but three stains of varying complexity and a pair of shorts which left little to the imagination. Scott was wearing his dressing gown.

The rest of the team hung off chairs and flopped on the table in various states of undress. Steve stood at the head of the room as usual; prim and fresh in a crisp button-down and perfectly creased chinos.

“So what we’re seeing here,” Steve said, turning to the group from the Powerpoint, “is an up-tick in biological experiments-”

His eyes narrowed while they roamed over the doodling, distracted and hungover band sprawled around the table. “Lang.” he snapped. “Close your legs; there are ladies present.’

Scott shuffled up his seat, drawing the dressing gown down over his knees while mumbling apologies. A low rumble of mirth circled the room, but Loki’s gaze never left the Captain’s.

The curve of his dark lashes swept upward, features set in performative rapture. Loki's facial expression hadn’t changed as the scene unfolded, but for a miniscule twitch of his lip. Usually the two of you would exchange a few eye rolls; a few knowing smiles during a particularly turgid monologue about shoe storage post-mission...but not today. Today he hadn't even looked at you.

Steve sighed. He extended a finger and pushed his retractable pointer down to a stub. Pacing to the table, he dropped his head, laying his palms flat. When he looked up, disappointed-dad energy was thick in his eyes. “Folks, this just won’t do.” he said.

Natasha’s sunglasses slid down her nose. Scott crossed his legs making the swivel chair knock into Wilson and waking him up. The Falcon’s arms flew wide on instinct, whacking Tony in the chest. “Jesus Christmas-” Tony snorted, blinking wildly. “It was a party.” Natasha drawled, pushing the sunglasses back in place with disdain. “Maybe if you’d stayed after the cake you’d have those tight panties of yours in less of a spick, Rogers.”

“That’s Captain Rogers.” he snapped. “We’re on the clock.” “Calm down, Rogers.” Tony said, cresting his fingers. He was remarkably chipper for a man with whipped cream crusted in his hairline. “You’re all sitting on my clock. Remember that.”

Steve flushed scarlet. His eyes narrowed as Tony’s smirk grew.

“All I’m saying is it’s a sorry day when Laufeyson is the star pupil. Look at him!” Steve said, gesturing incredulously at Loki who remained in position; back straight, chin up. But now, one eyebrow arched. “All of you lot in your skivvies and Laufeyson’s in full dress?” Steve shook his head. “I fail to see the humour, Rogers.” Loki said. “Why is it so surprising that I come to our daily summons dressed thus? Certainly I have never presented myself in a tragic towelling monstrosity like Lang here.” “There was that one time with the silk nightie.” Sam whispered to Scott. Scott covered his mouth.

“A silk robe.” Loki snapped.

“Usually you only bring out the Asgardian shit when you’re brown-nosing. Or when you’ve done something shifty.” Natasha said, propping her chin up with a fist. You bet her eyes are closed. Wanda nodded behind her Starbucks.

“Or trying to impress someone,” the witch said. Natasha waved a finger in agreement. “Sexually.” Wanda added.

Loki released a scandalised snort. “How dare you.” he said. Leather creaked against his biceps as he folded his arms.

Beneath the table, your thighs squeezed together. The only thing hotter than Loki in leather, was an indignant Loki in leather. You suddenly became very aware of your quickened breaths making the buttons of your blouse strain. The god’s eyes darted to the side, meeting yours. “What?” he snarled. “Nothing.” you squeaked, swallowing. An awkward silence hung in the room. The scent of stale vodka suddenly seemed very strong. Steve sighed.

“Let’s call it for this morning-” he said, immediately met with muted hisses of celebration around the table. He patted down the air. “Rescheduled for this afternoon. Thirteen-hundred sharp. Wear clothes.” Approval turned to whines and hushed curses as chairs were swivelled and aching bodies shifted. “Unbelievable.” Loki snarled under his breath.

You watched out the corner of your eye as he stood; the flat of his iron stomach inches from your face. The scent of rich leather filled your nostrils while Loki’s fingers nipped beneath the hem of his tunic, tugging it down. He flipped the length of his cape with a sniff. You saw it swirl around his boots briefly as he stepped towards the window, clasping his hands behind his back.

Taking your time, you picked up each piece of carefully laid stationary at your seat. One by one, the rest of the team left the room. Steve was last, his hand hovering on the door handle while he shot you a wary look. As a parting gift, he opened the door wider. “You didn’t stay late?” Loki’s voice was a thick hum in the growing silence. His tone, inscrutable. “Huh?” “At the party.” he said. “You didn’t stay late.”

This time it wasn’t a question. “I usually head off when Thor starts making passes at everyone. I didn’t see you. Were you there?” “He did that?” Loki bristled. “To you?” There was a pause. “To everyone.” you repeated quietly. Loki’s shoulders stiffened. His fingers twitched, thumb digging into one exposed palm behind his back. He was still staring out the window.

“I’ll see you later.” you said, nerves fluttering in your belly. The god’s hair shortened as his chin dipped. You wondered how it would feel to wind those dark strands through your fingers as you rode him. Wondered how the grunts and signs and pretty curses from his lips would sound wet in your ear.

“No.” Loki said. “Excuse me?” “No,” he repeated.

You steadied against the table-top with the pads of your fingertips. Small stars began to burst in your field of vision. “I think the leather looks goo-good,” you stammered. And you didn’t know why.

The thought of him barring the exit of enemies in far flung realms using only that voice barged through the doors of your imagination with the force of a horny caveman. If that was the last sarcastic quip they heard, by god, you imagined they may just have died happy. And hard.

“It looks good.” you repeated, no more than a whisper. Loki turned his head. The sharp profile came into view at a glacial pace. First the peaked tip of his chin, then the slant of his regal nose, then the harsh peak of his cheekbone, then his eyes. Your ass met the table-top with a stumble. There was a small crease between his eyebrows. “Bold of you to make another jest without your compatriots around you, Agent.” he said. Across the short distance between you, venom dripped from his tongue; his hackles raised. “I wasn’t joking,” you said quietly as his gaze fell to your feet with a sneer. The quick breaths that made your buttons strain were back. Loki’s rising stare lingered on your breasts, a small smile tweaking at the corner of his mouth. Words tripped from your lips, forcing their way from behind your teeth. “I like it.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed. He turned fully with a ceremonial flourish, the hands clasped behind his back moving to the front and rippling his leather and silken cloak. It fluttered.

“Is that so?” he purred darkly. He didn’t believe you.

You imagined how this is how a rabbit felt in the eyeline of a fox. To look away was to admit weakness, vulnerability. It meant death. And yet – it was the only chance to escape. But did you want to escape? Not really. You wanted to feel the sharp of his teeth fasten to your neck as he sucked and bit and made violent love to every inch of you.

You nodded, not breaking eye-contact. Loki inhaled sharply, chin tilting up as he did so.

His eyes wandered over grim foam tiles as though an enemy lurked beyond the suspended ceiling. They narrowed, darting back and forth. With a thundering heart, you noted one of his heavy boots rise from the floor. He paced forwards slowly, ceremonially, stopping inches from you. Your fingers curled tight around the table’s edge, the messy in your panties beneath the skirt becoming intolerable. Loki cleared his throat. “Am I to understand, contrary to common rhetoric, that you find my Asgardian leathers enticing; Agent?” “I think ‘enticing’ is a little grandiose, is it not?” you laughed, cringing at the way you so easily mirrored his speech. Loki noticed it too. He tilted his head. “I am nothing if not grandiose, Agent.” Loki said. “Am I not impressive? Am I not imposing?”

He trailed a long finger down your bicep, his touch light as a feather. “So often, you mortals use such words as insult.” he mused.

“It is merely a reflection on your own feelings of inferiority. This morning is a perfect example. An attempt at ridicule to deflect from their own pathetic presentation. Each one more bedraggled and an abject embarrassment to their purpose than the last.” Heat began to rise in your cheeks as his finger drifted along your collarbone. There was a pause, his eyes dropping to your lips before the finger brushed the skin at the hollow of your neck. It graced upwards, tracing the curve and stopping beneath the tip of your chin. “But not you.” he said.

The god’s eyes snapped to yours. His cheekbones hollowed under fluorescent lights, mischief glowing from the depths of his irises and painted in every light wrinkle on his brow.

“What else do you like, Agent?” he goaded softly. “Do you like the idea of what lies beneath these leathers?” You swallowed thickly. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Loki-” you said, glancing towards the open door. He followed your eyes, rolling his own. With a flick of his hand the door slammed shut. “I want you,” he breathed, leaning closer so that the heat of his cheek warmed your own, “to tell me what else you like.”

You bit your lip, watching his beautiful face come back into view. With a prang, the thought occurred that perhaps you were not the rabbit after all. Perhaps you were the fox. Loki’s gaze lingered on your face, searching it.

Emboldened, you found the words. “Why should I?”

His brows peaked softly. He released a muted sigh, pursing his lips. “As much as I am loathe to admit it, Romanoff was right.” he said. The hand tilting your chin upwards returned to its mate, clasped against the leather tunic. “I was trying to impress someone, but not that insufferable Rogers.”

He raised his eyebrows.

Excitement blossomed deep in your belly; rising like shaken soda and fizzing around your chest. Loki bit his bottom lip.

“You see, Agent, I like you very much. And I’m afraid that now it has reached the juncture where I must know if you like anything about me...beyond my exquisite taste in battle armour.”

The change in his demeanour was so dramatic that you could only gape. But when it came to Loki, could you expect anything less? Without thinking you reached forward and grasped the belt slung over his chest, pulling him forward.

Loki’s mouth clashed with yours, the heat of his lips giving way to the thrust of his tongue. Your hands slid over his metal epaulettes, tangling in ebony waves that cascaded around his shoulders. He tasted like heaven, the scent of him deep and dangerously delicious in a way you’d never known. A scent a girl could lose herself in forever; gladly.

In seconds your back was flat against the table, its cool wood harsh against the heat of your skin through the blouse. Loki’s ravenous kiss consumed you, licking and dancing inside your mouth like a man possessed. His shallow moans ricocheted between slurps of his lips, wetness coating them.

“Tell me, you infuriating woman,” he panted as a thick forearm landed on the wood beside your head. The metal vambrace clanged against cheap wood. Saliva hung between your mouths as he stared deep into your soul; blue eyes darkening. “Tell me what you like.”

“About you?” you panted. Loki didn’t nod, only lowered his chin.

His nose nudged at your lips, dragging upwards, tongue tracing around the bottom one. He had begun to smile. One of his legs nudged your thighs wider. The god straightened and you felt a thrill run from your scalp to the tips of your dangling toes. He towered above like a monolith, leather tight to his rectangular body. Hair fell around his jaw, perfectly imperfectly wolfish curls flirting against his skin. His cape brushed against your bare calves as he shifted his stance, palms sliding up your thighs and pushing your skirt higher. “Yes; I like the idea of what’s beneath all this,” you whined as you pawed at his leather-clad stomach. It was so hard. Loki smirked, watching beneath half-lidded eyes. “I think about fucking you in the showers after training,” you whispered bashfully as your hips thrust up against your will. Loki raised an eyebrow. “More...” he rumbled. “I think about you all the time. All the awful things I want to do to you, y-you do to me- Loki, uhh-”

His hands crept higher as you spoke, fingers hooking around the hips of your panties. “If I pull these down, darling” he said with an air of reprimand, “will they be wet?” You let out a gasping moan, back arching against the table.

“Excellent.” Loki snickered, pulling the panties down the length of your legs before stepping back between them.

A hand flew to your mouth as you watched one long finger dip between your thighs, running lightly between your folds. He brought it to his lips, sucking gently. His cheekbones hollowed, finger slipping out. He swallowed with a groan of appreciation.

Loki settled himself between your legs, pushing them wider. The height of the table pressed your dripping centre against his crotch. You thought you might explode. His palms slid up your waist, exploring the curves of your body while your legs wrapped around his hips. The god’s cock pressed eagerly against the leather, strong and thick up the centre. His forearms came down at either side of your head, metal wrist-guards clinking.

“I will show you what it is to be mine,” he murmured in your ear.

Loki’s cock settled against your sex, rubbing in perfect gyration. “Oh...god,” you gasped as the weight of his body pressed against your own.

Fingers combed up from the base of his neck, tangling in his hair. The next moment, they grasped around his back, pulling him closer, catching in the folds of his cloak which draped across your bodies. The god grunted filthy praises in your ear as his bound manhood sent electric currents of pleasure deeper than you’d ever known. His searching lips found their way to your neck, your jaw. Every utterance from his throat more disgustingly sensual than the last. Hot leather filled your nostrils, the scent of him strong and intoxicating. Mounting orgasm bubbled in waves, a dream-like trance broken only with whispered groans of pleasure from your throats. Loki Laufeyson was about to make you cum. The thought was unbelievable. And yet, your pussy being tugged and massaged and owned by his leather-bound cock into the throes of heaven knew it to be true. Dry-humped like a teenager in the back of a pick-up.

“Be mine...” Loki mumbled breathlessly, a strangled choke gasping from deep in his chest. He immediately dove for a perishing kiss, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth and releasing it with a wet suck. He smouldered down.

Against the bright lights, his dark halo shone; tendrils curling against your cheek and brushing with every calculated roll of his hips. Every muscle in your body tensed. Your legs tightened against his hips.

“Be mine,” he echoed. His face was twisted, and you suddenly wondered how close he was to cumming in those beautiful leather pants. “Loki-” you gasped, clutching at his cape. Back arching, the last thing you heard as climax stormed your brain were the matching pants of the god. The last thing you saw were his peaked brows above dilated pupils so deep you could drown in them.

In the afterglow, all you could manage were garbled phrases as your forearm draped over your eyes. “That was...unexpected.” you panted when the god’s weight lifted from your chest. “Perhaps for you.” Loki winked. “It was very carefully calculated on my part,” You watched in dazed disbelief as Loki sank to his knees, leather creaking, and hoisted your hips higher. He lapped at your soaking pussy, muffled moans seeping from his throat as he buried himself in your fresh pleasure. The flat of his tongue licked a thick stripe from the base to your swollen clit, placing a gentle suck on the tip. His eyes flickered up, meeting yours.

“Immaculate, as expected.” he breathed. His chin glistened.

You groaned as he withdrew; grasping at the air as he went. That small caress of him against your sex was everything you could ever have dreamed. Loki let you reluctantly arrange yourself before offering his hand for the short hop off the table. “Not exactly how I imagined our first time,” you said with a sheepish smile. Loki scanned your face.

“Agent don’t be insulting. That was merely a sample,” he scoffed. “It barely counts.” He stepped forward, pulling you flush against him with a flat palm at the base of your spine. “We must ensure you have eaten something before more intimate activities are indulged in; lest you faint. Or worse.” “Or worse?” “You are only mortal, after all.” Loki smiled slyly. “And this,” he gestured to his cock; hard and straining against the leather, “can be rather a handful. As well can his Master.” You slapped him on the shoulder. Loki smirked. Remembering the unexpected schedule change, you frowned. “You think we have time before the meeting later?”

Loki snorted. “We’re not attending. The two of us fulfilled our obligations, unlike the more cretinous members of our party.” You raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to get me in trouble, I can tell.” Loki’s fingers danced up your back, a light thrust of his hips making your body keen. His dirty exhale flooded your ear, the warm scent of him overloading your senses.

“Oh Agent,” he purred against the skin; his eyes darting covertly to the pair of panties discarded on the floor. “As if you expected anything less.”

Taglist (continued in comments)

@lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @liminalpebble @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @icytrickster17 @multifandom-worlds @buttercupcookies-blog

[loserboysandlithium]

18+ hoes

I love nervous Eddie. You’re on top of him fooling around, bodies grinding together as his tongue dances with yours. An unexpected rendezvous with your weed dealer.

Little whimpers escape his pretty lips as you press your body against his even tighter. You can feel his cock hard beneath you making you smile before pulling away from his kiss. His cheeks are flushed a bright red, his mouth parted slightly as he struggles to catch his breath.

The fact that he’s an entire mess from a make out session and some dry humping makes you even more turned on. Every part of you aching to pull every desperate noise you can from him. You lock eyes with him as you begin inching backwards on the bed, your lips now moving down across his tatted chest.

His big brown eyes widen as you reach the top of his green plaid boxers peeking out beneath his dark jeans. “May I?” you smirk up at him running your finger along the elastic, trying to keep your composure as you see the full outline of his thick cock begging to be freed.

“Y-yes. Fuck yes. Please.” Eddie breathes, leaning up to rest on his elbows, gaining a better view as you slowly work to get his jeans off.

His cock springs free, slapping hard against his toned stomach. Fuck, he’s big. You smile up at him watching him intently as you wrap your fingers around his dick, pulling it closer to your lips.

His dark eyes flick between your face and your hand as you begin slowly stroking him. Every little noise slipping past his lips is like music to your ears. You hold out your palm, spitting onto it before taking him back in your hand.

The saliva creates a filthy noise as you jerk his cock faster and faster, twisting your hand as you work him effortlessly. “Ohh fuck.” Eddie murmurs, his eyelids fluttering, already losing control before your mouth has even touched him.

You knew he wouldn’t last long. You could tell by the way his stomach was tightening with every movement. His chest rising and falling quicker each time.

You take your tongue, delicately licking his tip, the taste of him making your pussy throb. A pathetic noise comes from Eddie as you wrap your lips around the head of his thick cock, sucking softly.

“I’m- fucking hell..” Eddie trails off, his head falling back against his pillow. You loved how needy he was. How desperate he looked. You felt like you could hear inside his brain. ‘Don’t cum yet. Don’t cum yet.’ It only made you want to make him cum faster.

You swirl your tongue around his cock as you begin to bob your head, taking him deeper and deeper into your mouth. “Oh my god. F-fuck. More. Please fuck.” Eddie begs you, his tone a mixture of desperation and pure lust.

You grip his thighs, your nails digging into his soft skin as you take him all the way into your throat. Gagging and choking as your eyes fill with tears, giving him everything you have with no hesitation.

“Jesus fuck. Feels so fucking good. M’ not gonna last. Not gonna-” his mumbling is replaced with a strangled moan just as his hands meet the top of your head holding you in place as you feel his dick twitching.

You peek up at him watching his plump lips fall open with a gasp as his cum coats the back of your throat. His back arches slightly off the bed as you swallow every bit of his seed. When you’re sure he’s done, you suck all the way back to the tip, taking your time, purposefully making him whimper as you tease his sensitive head.

You can’t help but wonder how pathetic he’d be if you actually fucked him. And you couldn’t wait to find out.

*I haven’t written anything in months so I’m sorry if this sucks but ily and I’m trying to get my brain working 😘

[dammn-dean]

Hii could you do a ghost x reader who is just gave birth having their day old child and soap John gaz came over to ghost house to see the baby once the reader left the room to go breastfeed their baby in their room price telling ghost how far he had come in life

Here you go! Thank you for the request, and I hope it’s okay. I made it a bit more (just a week) rather than a day old before they came over. That’s just because if someone came to my house the day I got home after giving birth, I would kill them 😅

Too Good

Pairing: Simon Riley x Female Reader

Words: 2400+

Warnings: Nothing really!

Also, this is the same universe as Unexpected! You don't have to read them first, but if you want to here is Part 1 and Part 2.

Beautiful art/rendering from @ave661

"Love, they are here!” Simon’s voice bellowed through the flat to reach your ears.

You let out a small, “Okay,” just loud enough for him to hear it. Your eyes staring back at you in the mirror, checking your appearance. 

Today was the day you were finally going to meet Simon’s team. You had overheard a conversation he had on the phone a week back, when you finally were home from the hospital. Simon was good at being sneaky (it was in the job description) but you still overheard him. 

“Aye, I need a bit more time,” he murmured into the phone. 

After a brief pause, “What do you mean ‘Just because’ isn’t an excuse?” He huffed. 

You were paused in the hallway, sleeping baby in your arms just praying she would stay asleep so you could listen in to the conversation a moment longer. 

“Gaz saw me take off from base? Bloody hell.” You could almost hear him gripping between his eyes in irritation. 

“Yes, I promise everything is alright yeah? Just had a bit of something to do.” He explained vaguely as ever. 

There was a long pause on his end, like the person on the other side of the phone was lecturing him. He will give an occasional small ‘Yes’, ‘I know’ or ‘Yes sir’,  which had you wondering who he was talking to. 

“Fuck me, Cap. You make it impossible to not tell you everything. Listen, I’ll call you later today and tell you everything okay?” Simon barely paused long enough for a response before he hung up. 

With a long sigh, he stood from his spot on the couch. He had noticed you were gone an awfully long time and began down the hallway to check on you. 

Too focused on slowly rocking your sleeping daughter in your arms and trying to be quiet to listen to his call you hadn’t even realized Simon was heading your way until it was too late. 

You almost jumped out of our skin when he appeared like an apparition into your vision. 

“Jesus Si!” You quietly yelled, more of a whisper to make sure you didn’t wake the baby. 

You watched as his lips curled into a smirk. “And just what are you doing sweetheart?” He leaned his shoulder into the wall as casual as ever. 

“Oh uh- well I was you know, well I was-“ your brain couldn’t come up with an excuse fast enough.

“Didn’t take you for an eavesdropper sweet girl,” he said with a grin. 

“I wasn’t eavesdropping,” you replied defensively. 

“Right,” he laughed. “Hear anything good?”

“Not… really,” you murmured, clearly caught. 

“That was my Captain,” he explained. “Checking in on things after the way I left base.” 

You simply nodded, not quite sure what to say. 

“I thought I had left unseen, but apparently Gaz saw me leave ‘in a panic’ as he put it,” he rolled his eyes. “So he wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

“Makes sense.” You bit the inside of your lip to stop from adding on to the sentence. 

But Simon always reads you like a book. He squinted at you before questioning “What is it?” 

Your eyebrows almost shot to your hairline at that. You cleared your throat and slowly walked around him to head towards the living room. The baby’s bassinet was in there and it would make it easier to have this conversation if she wasn’t in your arms. You gently placed her down with a kiss on her head, Simon followed right behind you and mirrored you with a tender kiss in the exact spot you had kissed her precious little head. 

You sighed softly before sitting on the couch. Simon sat beside you, shifting himself to face you a little more before you started talking. 

“I suppose I wondered… why didn’t you just tell him the truth?” You questioned softly. 

“Just what do you mean sweetheart?” 

“Well I mean… why didn’t you just tell him you left because I called you and that we have a baby.” You asked with a small tilt of your head. 

“Oh.” Simon responded with a hand on the back of his neck. He took a moment or two before his eyes met you again. “Love, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way and I hope you will let me explain.” He pleaded.

Even though that made you terrified, you just focused on your breathing and nodded. 

“Well I haven’t told the team about you yet,” he explained softly. 

Your face betrayed you and it fell immediately, eyes unable to meet him. Not even a second passed before his hands were on your tugging your chin back up to look at him. 

“It isn’t like that my love,” Simon went on. “You are just… everything to me. I come here to you and I don’t think about work. You deserve the world and somehow I thought keeping you and them separated would be best.” 

Hazel eyes held yours for a long time, nothing but true and raw emotion in them to convey he was telling the truth. 

“I understand,” you replied quietly. 

“Also, we haven’t really talked about if you wanted me to tell the team so I didn’t want to overstep…” Simon professed. 

As silly as it sounds out loud, he never wanted to force you to be a part of that part of his life, a part of the Ghost’s life. He has endured things you never deserved to even hear of, his sweet girl didn’t need to be exposed to it all if he had any say in the matter.

“I don’t mind if you tell people about me,” you said, almost embarrassed. You could feel the tips of your ears warming at the confession. 

“Yeah pretty?” He smiled as he gently touched your cheek with his fingers? “You want me to tell my team about you?” 

“Well I don’t-you don’t have to.” You mumbled out quickly. 

“You think I wouldn’t want to tell them about you?” Simon asked honestly. His fingers gently pushed your hair behind your ear. 

“I- I don’t know. Does everyone else talk about their partners?” You questioned honestly. 

“Price is the only one with a partner, Gaz and Johnny brag about their flings occasionally.” Simon broke into a big grin. “They won’t know what to do when I tell them about you.” 

“Oh,” you bit the inside of your lip again. “So you want to tell them about me?” 

“Of course love… I’ve almost let it slip out a few times as is,” Simon leaned in to brush a kiss along your cheek. “And I can’t wait to tell them about Emma too. If you are okay with that?” He pulled back to read your face. 

“I’m okay with it if you are, Si,” you reassured him. 

“I’m okay with it… but I will warn you once I tell them they won’t want to wait long before seeing you and the little miss,” he smiled as he leaned his head to meet yours. 

You paused for a moment, taking him in. Feeling safe and happier than you can remember feeling in a long time. “I’m okay with that.” 

So there you stood, in your mirror. Checking your appearance for the 5th or 6th time for the night. Even though you were a new mom, dealing with a changed body you wanted to make a good impression. 

Emma had been in her bassinet sleeping, awaiting the arrival of Simon’s friends (or work mates as he put it). Your body was still healing, so you had thrown on a soft but matching lounge set and felt nice to not be wearing a spit-up stained shirt and sweats for once. 

Simon opened the front door to see Price, Gaz and Johnny. All looking varied shades of giddy. Johnny was all but bouncing on his toes. Gaz held a kind smile that was a little bit too big to be classified as a ‘normal’ grin. Price stood behind the other two, stoic and holding a pretty bouquet of flowers. 

“Flowers are for the Missus,” Price began with a smile. 

“And this is for the little miss,” Gaz exclaimed. Pulling a gift bag that was hidden behind his back. 

Simon couldn’t help the small chuckle that fell from him. 

“Well come in then, yeah?” He asked with an arm out inviting his team into your flat. 

One by one the men made their way inside, all smacking Simon’s shoulder with pride before coming face to face with you in the living room. Simon took a few steps in your direction, before placing a gentle hand on your lower back to guide you deeper into the room.

“Price, Johnny, Gaz,” Simon began pointing as he said their name. “This is Y/N, sweetheart… this is my team.” Simon wouldn’t admit that he was nervous, but you could hear the waver in his voice that wasn’t usually there. 

“Heya there Mrs Ghost,” Johnny spoke up first, hand out shaking yours gently. “You dinnae tell us she was such a bonnie lass aye, LT.” His Scottish accent was thick, but the compliment followed by the wink he gave you had your ears burning. 

“Don’t you start with her MacTavish,” Simon warned jokingly, but pulled you into him a little more.

“I’m Gaz,” Gaz spoke up with a charming smile and a small handshake. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you,” you replied as your eyes fell to the small gift bag in his hand. He held the gift out, and Simon grabbed it. “We got the little Miss a gift, hope that’s alright.” Gaz gave you a huge grin showing almost all of his teeth. Even if you weren’t okay with the gift, how could anyone say no to him? 

The last man, with the mutton chops was the only one left and you knew who he was because Simon spoke about him the most to you, Captain Price.  

The Captain held out a beautiful bouquet of flowers to you, which you took immediately and smelled. “Nice to meet you,” he began. “Hard to believe someone has held Ghost’s heart and he is just now telling us about you.” He held a polite smile, but his voice had an edge to it.

Simon’s hand that was free raised to the back of his neck nervously. You let your eyes drift to his for a moment, silently checking in. Simon gave your waist a small and reassuring squeeze, signally that he’s good.

“Thank you all for the gifts… and it’s so nice to meet all of you. It’s great to be able to put faces to the names from Si’s stories.” 

“Si, eh?” Johnny’s lips turn up in a grin at the nickname.

“Johnny,” Price spoke up at that, warning him to behave. 

“Well who wants to meet Emma?” You spoke up, ready to move past the formalities. 

Simon nodded, and led you over to where she was still sleeping soundly in the bassinet. Once your eyes fall on her sleeping form you can’t help but smile. As gently as Simon could he picked her up with a kiss on her head, and laid her in your arms so that everyone could see her. The men gently circle in around you, none of them wanting to be the last to lay their eyes on her. 

“Wow,” Gaz whispered out. 

“Beautiful bairn LT,” Johnny complimented. His hand reaching out for Simon’s shoulder again to congratulate.

“This is Emma,” you introduce her to the team. 

She was tiny, sleeping while swaddled in her blanket. Price felt pride swell up in his chest, same as he would as if this was his biological grandchild. Simon stood at your side, watching you show off your daughter. Hand never leaving your lower back, as his other gently brushes her little cheek with the back of two fingers. 

Simon looked to Price and their eyes met, “Congratulations you two, what a wonderful baby girl.”

Emma decided now was the time to start whimpering, in warning before she started to cry out. You immediately started shushing her gently and bouncing her softly, to soothe her. 

“I think it’s time for someone to eat,” you explain to the group. “We will be back.”

Simon whispers into your ear, just a small word of encouragement before you head to the nursery to feed your daughter. 

They all watch you leave, no one speaking up until the door closes behind you. 

“Well if I didn’t see it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it.” Gaz gushed immediately. 

“Aye, LT you are pulling way outcha league,” Johnny bellows out a laugh at that. 

“Shut it, Johnny.” Simon rolls his eyes before heading to the kitchen. “Want a drink?” They all give different versions of a yes, then Price speaks up that he will join Simon in the kitchen. Gaz and Johnny then take a seat on the couch, starting up conversation immediately.

Simon heads straight to the cabinet snagging 4 tumblers out, before reaching to the bourbon on the counter. 

“Thanks for inviting us Simon,” Price started. “Your girls are lovely.” 

Simon couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at his lips. Despite how uncomfortable he was with all of this, from inviting his team into your flat, being a new father, hell he hasn’t even asked you if he can move in with you full time yet, he felt more at peace than he had in a long time. 

“Thanks Price.” He slid his glass across the island to Price, and he accepted the glass with a tilt of his head.

“You have come a long way, Simon.” Price expressed honestly. “In more ways than I can ever express.” He leaned his elbows on the island, looking into the glass of amber liquid. “Seeing you happy like this isn’t something I ever expected.” Price pulled his eyes from the glass to meet Simon’s. 

“Hell, I for sure never expected it,” Simon joked. 

“I mean it,” Price held a serious tone. “You deserve this.”

Simon nodded, not sure he did deserve this, but no sense in saying it outloud. 

“Aye, LT you mind if we put the match on?” Gaz asked from the entry of the kitchen, hand gesturing back to the TV in the living room.

“Sure,” he answered with a shake of his head. 

Without another word, Simon grabbed a second tumbler for one of the guys as Price grabbed the remaining one. 

“Who would believe we are going to watch the football match in Ghost’s flat?” Johnny jokes from the couch, grabbing the glass Simon handed him.

With a roll of his eyes, “Don’t get used to it.” Although, a smile was on his lips and his tone wasn’t as serious as usual. Maybe having them over isn’t the worst thing in the world.

Since this could be read as part 3 of Unexpected I went ahead and tagged you all again! Hope that is okay 😊

Tags: @daemondoll @mileyraes @axoleos @arminarlertssword @wawuwe @cxltblood @mrflyingbanana03 @itsmytimetoodream @arminarlertssword @mrssabinecallas @babygirl-riley @gplol @yuly

Thank you for reading! If you have an idea or request for a fic, feel free to send 🖤

[darklordofthesimp]

Underneath (König x Reader)

Summary: You'd been looking for some time alone when you'd gone to the shooting range at nearly midnight. König clearly had the same idea.

Requested by Anon: #47 I forget how to speak whenever you're around and it's embarrassing.

A/N: Honestly, this felt sooo trash. My apologies anon, König was difficult to write here.

Categories: Hurt/Comfort || Fluff || Mutual Pining

Warnings: Mild Swearing

The night air was crisp, your breath leaving small clouds of white to trail behind you. You adjusted the strap of the weapon slung across your shoulder and shivered. Next time you’d have to dress warmer if you wanted to take a late night stroll, but you knew full well you’d make the same mistake.

As KorTac’s resident marksman, the firing range was almost like your second home. Your sniper rifle was an extension of your limbs and this place gave you the opportunity to exercise it. It would be worth the walk and worth the cold.

You glanced at your watch as you entered the facility. It was 2300 hours, no one in their right mind would be at the range this late on a Friday night. You’d have the floor to yourself, blowing off steam with unlimited ammunition into the early hours of the morning: the perfect way to start off the weekend.

As you entered the doors and rounded the corner, your breath left you in a gasp and you stumbled backward.

“König!”

The giant came to a screeching halt in an attempt to not bowl you over, his eyes wide as he appraised you. He held a sniper rifle in his right hand, the weapon looking like a Nerf gun in comparison to the sheer size of him. Your heart thrashed wildly in your chest at the scare of unexpected company.

“Jesus,” you rasped, a small laugh slipping from you lips. “What’re you doing here so late?”

There was a short pause as the man gathered his bearings, the both of you thrown off by each other’s presence. “Probably the same as you.”

You nodded your head with a small shrug. You should have guessed that König wouldn’t be at the club with the rest of the team. He was the resident introvert, maniacal on the battlefield but withdrawn in the barracks.

König was an enigma.

It’s what drew you to him like a moth to a flame. Although, the man avoided you where he could. You guessed he wasn’t as curious about you as you were about him.

“Is this why you’re better than most with a sniper?” You nodded towards his rifle but his eyes remained glued on you. “You shoot at midnight?”

It was mean to be a joke but there was some truth to your question. König was one of the better snipers in KorTac, as though he were born with a natural talent for the role. You wondered if he’d ever consider pushing for a change in positions.

“Better than most,” he agreed quietly with a shrug, but then his eyes sparkled with amusement. “However, I shoot at midnight to be better than you.”

Your heart stuttered at the words. You knew he was joking, or at least attempting to break the ice, but it always felt good to hear words of affirmation. Snipers were very much out of sight and out of mind until you needed them and you’d rarely received compliments on your work outside of training.

“Well,” you breathed, shifting the weight of the rifle on your back. It was cold but suddenly there was warmth blooming along your neck as König watched you intently. “Now I wanna see if you’re going to put me out of a job.”

König’s eyes widened and you saw him hesitate.

“You,” he cleared his throat, “you want to watch me shoot?”

You offered him a small smile in response, it was cheeky but not enough to alarm him. The last thing you wanted was to make a 6’10 mountain of a man think that you were here to laugh at him

You knew that König was a good shot, though you also knew he was not on the same playing field as you. Something told you he needed a win, though. If watching him shoot and complimenting his ability would give him something warm on such a frigid day, then it would be the least you could do.

After all, you don’t go to the range at midnight on a Friday night unless you’re lonely.

“Actually,” König began, suddenly shifting on his feet uneasily. “I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”

You nodded your head, indicating for the man to continue. Silence swept into the conversation as König’s gaze flickered from your rifle to the floor, his hands moving to rest behind his back. You could tell his fingers were fidgeting even though he’d hid them from your view.

Finally, he spoke. “I wanted to ask for your help, I’m having trouble adjusting this rifle.”

Your mouth fell open and you blinked at him dumbly.

The giant blinked back.

“Yes!” You said with a start, realizing he was waiting for your response. “Of course- yeah. Lay down and set her up as best you can while I go offload my shit.”

König let loose a breath, his shoulders relaxing from where they’d been bunched. The sniper’s hood that he wore should have made him difficult to read, but his body language was beyond expressive.

When you returned from laying your shit down in the next aisle, König was on his stomach and those long legs were stretched out to full length. Again, you marvelled at the size of him.

He was peering down the sight of his rifle, a frustrated sigh deflating his chest as you looked down on him. You could see what was wrong with his positioning, then the actual rifle would be an entirely different beast to tackle.

“König,” you brought his attention back to you as your eyes skimmed over his body, watching for any flaws you may have missed. When you looked back at him, the man was watching you from above his shoulder. Your heart skipped a beat at the intensity of that emerald gaze, the determination to find out how to better himself.

You let loose a breath.

“Can I fix your position for you?” The question was soft but König’s hand flexed against his weapon anyway.

“Of course.”

You started with his legs, grabbing the inside of his right knee to push it upward. He helped you tucking it up so that it sat parallel to his body.

“It absorbs the recoil without shifting your line of fire,” you explained, and you saw his head nod from above the contour of his back. You stood over him, your feet planted on either side of his waist in an attempt to see the angle his body lay on.

Finally, you made your way to his arms, lowering yourself beside him. That green gaze flickered towards you, taking in your bent over form and settling on where you rested on both your knees.

He looked away as his breath hitched.

“Pick your elbows up,” you murmured, leaning over him as he lifted his arms. You tucked them a bit closer to where he had them initially, your chest brushing against the back of his head as you moved. His biceps were hard beneath your fingers and you swallowed thickly. “Now lean into them outward so the skin of your elbows is stretched.”

Again, the man obeyed.

“See how everything feels so much tighter?” You asked, leaning back onto your knees with your hands on the floor behind you.

König groaned at the sight.

You frowned.

“Is…” you cleared your throat, sitting straight. “Is it not good? I can adjust it if –“

“It’s fine,” König said quickly, his voice strained.

Your heart sunk at the urgency in his words, as though he were impatient. You thought that this was what he wanted, he had asked for your help.

“Well,” you rubbed the back of your neck with a sigh. “Give it a shot then, big guy.”

Big guy.

König missed the target.

You gawked at the small screen bolted to the floor between your bodies. When your eyes flicked over to the man lying next to you, he closed his eyes with a sigh.

“Try again,” you tried to keep your voice neutral but to miss the target entirely was a pretty big feat. Especially for someone like König who, usually, was an excellent shot.

This time, the bullet had barely caught the edge of the cardboard. The screen emitted a small beep, informing you both that he’d missed the centre aiming mark by 2,876 millimetres.

If that was a person, he’d have taken some fabric off of his shirt sleeve.

König sat up suddenly, a low growl reverberating in his chest. “Sheiße!”

“Is it the rifle?” You questioned as he rested his back against the isle wall, dropping his hands against his knees. His head fell rearward, gaze moving to the ceiling and for a second there he looked truly hopeless.

You didn’t receive a response.

“If it’s the positioning then-“

König’s head snapped upright, his eyes settling on you with an expression you’d never seen on him. You felt like you were burning.

“It’s you,” he said simply.

Your mouth dried.

“Oh.”

You stood to your feet without another word. Your chest felt heavy, and your skin stung as though the words had been a whip bearing down on your body. Embarrassment flooded your cheeks as a cold chill trickled down your spine.

You hadn’t realized how cold it was in that room.

Before you could walk from the aisle, König was on his feet. He stood before you, hands raised as though attempting to placate your or surrender. He was careful not to touch you, but the way he leaned in made you think that he wanted to.

“Not,” he stumbled over the words, they were desperate and choked. “Not like that. Never like that.”

You stared at him incredulously.

“Don’t leave,” König murmured, stepping into your space. Your head was craned so that you could see him, though eventually you gave up and tossed your gaze to the side. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“What did you mean, then?”  Your voice was hard, and you heard him suck in a breath. “You ask me to help you then don’t talk to me when I do.”

After a pregnant pause, a hand came to rest against your upper arm and you forced yourself to stay still. When a finger tucked itself beneath your chin, forcing your eyes upward, your knees trembled dangerously beneath you.

“I’m not ignoring you, I swear it.” König’s words fell from his lips in a tumble, that emerald gaze intent, “I just forget how to speak whenever you’re around and it’s embarrassing.”

Your jaw would have fallen open had it not been for his fingers holding it.

The silence was heavy as his words settled and you couldn’t think of a single thing to respond to him with. How were you meant to tell him that you felt the same way? How were you meant to express the effect that he had on you without sounding like a child?

Eventually, his fingers slipped from your skin and a chill fell over your body at his absence.

König took a step back, his body rigid.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped, his shoulders squared, and his eyes cast downward. “That was inappropriate, I shouldn’t have- “

“Don’t apologize,” your voice was barely a whisper, but the words echoed like a gunshot in the space between you. “Don’t you dare take that back.”

König watched you carefully from beneath the hood.

You decided, as his fingers slowly returned to your skin, that tonight you’d be under that hood with him.

[kitkatscabinet]

Are you there God?

Summary: A chance meeting in the dilapidated remains of your mother's old church ends up changing the trajectory of two lives

Pairing: Jason Todd x f! Reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, mentions of Christianity and nsfw themes. Unedited.

There’s a chill in the air, carrying with it the promise of an upcoming winter. The old church offers little reprieve from the harsh bite of the night air, the wind easily pushing through dilapidated wood. 

The many near burnt-out candles that flicker and cast dancing shadows across the darkened chapel emanate no heat. Nor does the flimsy jacket you’d hastily adorned before this impromptu midnight visit. 

Your fingertips tingle from the cool temperature, even as you exhale smoke from the cigarette you’d used one of the dying candles to light. 

Sacrilegious sure, you could perfectly picture the scowling faces of the nuns if they could see you, but it was one of those nights—the nights where you needed something, anything to take the edge off. 

And if nicotine was your preferred poison? Well better that than heroin you argued. 

Besides, if God existed then he had bigger issues to worry about than you sprinkling some ash on the floor of an old dilapidated church slated for condemnation. 

A tinge of sorrow hits you as you take in the poor state of what was once your mother’s church. You’ve no fond memories of the place, having hated being dragged along every Sunday by your more devout mother in your childhood. Now though, it’s one of your last remaining connections to your long passed mother. 

Gotham had never been an overtly religious city, you guessed it was hard to believe in a supposedly merciful God when you lived in such a shithole. And ever since the discovery of aliens, demons and the like, Gotham’s faith in anything divine had long since seemed to die out completely.

You stare up at the wooden Jesus hanging behind the pew contemplatively. It’s silly, you’re not even remotely religious but something compels you to speak to the empty space regardless. 

“Forgive me Father for I have sinned” That was how it went right? “It’s been… well forever since my last confession.” 

“I look like a priest to you darlin?” A startled screech leaves your lips at the unexpected masculine voice. Jolting, the butt of your cigarette flies from your hand, your free one clutching at your chest. 

“Jesus Christ!” You exclaimed, trying to calm your hammering heart. 

“Not quite.” The voice rumbles as a muscular figure steps into your view. Your eyes trail from booted feet up to thick thighs adorned with gun holsters that inspire some incredibly less-than-holy thoughts. But it’s the blazing red bat symbol stretched across the man’s chest that makes your mouth run dry, it's the Red Hood.

You’d never seen the gun-toting, violent, vigilante in person but it's unmistakable who’s standing across from you now.  Forcing your breathing to even out, you allow your muscles to relax as you lean back against the wooden pew. 

“Too pretty to be a priest.” You agree with his earlier statement, watching in amusement as the vigilante stutters in his steps. It was cute, watching a man of his renown and stature suddenly flounder in embarrassment. 

“Didn’t exactly take you to be the religious sort.” You say, gaze never once leaving his form as he slowly sits down on the creaking bench beside you. 

“I’m not.” He grunts.

“Me neither.” You confess, the two of you sitting in companionable silence as you stare up at the wooden Jesus that presided over the church. 

You don’t know what compels you to keep returning to that dilapidated old church (that’s a lie, you know damn well why), but like clockwork, every Sunday night you return. And every Sunday night, so does he. 

At first, he hadn’t been consistent. Why would he? The Red Hood had no reason to be skulking around a random church, nor did he have a reason to want to see you. 

Still, you kept going to that church, and unbeknownst to you, so did he. 

Since that first night, Jason Todd had been watching. What had started with concern over a young woman walking alone at night had morphed into curiosity into what he refused to acknowledge was a crush. 

Though he’s pretty sure not even the helmet had been able to hide the heart eyes he’d thrown your way when you admitted that Pride and Prejudice was your favourite novel. 

He’s late sometimes, bloodied and bruised, but three months following that first fateful meeting, the Red Hood goes out of his way to meet with a random civilian girl. 

It was nearing the two-month mark when everything changed. The both of you were forced to acknowledge the underlying tension of the odd and unexpected friendship that had formed in the twilight hours spent under the roof of a God neither of you believed in. 

It had been the first time you’d seen him injured, barely a scratch in Jason’s opinion, but the way you’d worked yourself into a frenzy of worry over him, the way you’d dropped to your knees before him and had taken his bloody knuckles into your gentle touch would forever be engraved into his mind. 

It’s at that moment that Jason realises God’s not there, because if so then surely he would have smitten Jason then and there for thinking such sinful thoughts in his house. Besides, as far as he was concerned, you were the only entity worth praying to anyway. 

He wants so badly to rip off the mask, secret identity be damned, and kiss you breathless. In the end, cowardice wins out, but Jason thinks back on that night often with regret. 

“Favourite hero go,” Red asks, turning to look at you with what you imagine is a smirk under his stupid red helmet. 

“It’s not you if that’s what you’re fishing for,” you grin, looking back up at the ceiling from where you lay on the wooden floor, protected from the dust and splinters by an old picnic blanket. 

The terrifying sort-of-crimelord lying beside you scoffs in offence like the big baby he is. 

“Ok then who is it?”

“Wonder Woman.”

“Oh that’s such a basic bitch fucking answer.” You know he’s joking, Red’s made it clear that despite his distaste for Batman he respects the hell out of Wonder Woman. Still, you entertain him, rolling your eyes dramatically. 

“Fine, you wanna know the real answer? It’s Black Canary, but specifically when she was rocking that full-body black leotard with the mesh cutouts on the legs and the cropped bomber jacket.”

There’s a stunned silence that follows your passionate answer before Red bursts into laughter. 

“Oh, fuck you,” you quip, though there’s no actual heat behind your words. 

“You wish.” Any witty retort instantly dies on your lips and you’re suddenly distinctly aware of the heat emanating off his shoulder which brushes lightly against yours. 

Red has stopped laughing, coughing to clear his throat as you suddenly wish for the floor to swallow you whole. For anything to distract you from the way your mind suddenly races, filled with various images of different positions you could achieve right there in front of Jesus. 

“Right, well, I should probably go. Bad guys to catch and all.” It’s painfully awkward and so is your lacklustre response. 

“Oh, yeah … yeah.”

Neither of you move though and you don’t think you’ve ever been more hyper-aware of your body and the one lying next to you in your life. You quickly sit up, the vigilante mimicking your movements. 

“So um —”

“Well I — ” The both of you speak at once, you motion for him to go first and he clears his throat once more. 

“I should probably go now. Bye.” With that, he’s gone so fast he might as well have been the flash, leaving you alone to stew in the mortification and arousal that’s worked its way into your belly. 

A scream of frustration rips its way out of your throat when your mind conjures up the very graphic image of you straddling one of Red’s delicious thighs and refuses to drop the line of thought. 

Little did you know, Jason had needed to cut his patrol short for the same reason. A cold shower having practically screamed his name. 

Footsteps echoed up the aisle towards where you were sat in the front pew, as had become a tradition between you and your vigilante, playfully you turn towards the source. “Hey Red, you’re late — ” the words die on your tongue, mouth running dry as you take in a trio of figures, none of whom are the Red Hood. 

The fear must show on your face as you shakily stand, and try to create space from the ominously grinning men. 

“What’s the matter darlin?” One of them drawls, and you want to throw up at the use of the petname, that was what he called you. 

“Look, I don’t know what you want but my friend will be here soon.” You mentally curse yourself when you notice the way your voice quivers, and the men clearly pick up on it too. 

“I wouldn’t count on it.” Fear nearly roots you to your place at the surety in his words, but you live in Gotham and Red Hood has made it his mission to get you to be able to defend yourself. 

You don’t think, you just move, and when the nearest guy reaches out to grab your arm you knee him in the balls. He goes down with a howl and you think you break the second guy's nose if the crunch is any indication. 

The unmistakable click of a gun’s safety has you stopping in your tracks once more.  “That’s it, just settle down now. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to that pretty face of yours now would we?”

Tears well up in your eyes but you refuse to let them fall, unwilling to give them the satisfaction. Goon #2 uses the opportunity to grab your arm in a bruising grip before a blow to the cheek leaves you reeling, black dots dancing across your vision as you struggle to regain your senses. 

“Speak for yourself, the little bitch broke my fucking nose.” 

“What do you want from me?” You croak when you finally regain the ability to speak, ignoring the metallic taste of blood on your tongue. 

“From you? Nothing. It’s not personal darling, but the word around here is that the Red Hood is sweet on ya, and well, I don’t appreciate the way he’s been nosing about my business lately.”

You should be terrified of the implications of that statement, about what these men will do to you, and you are — but you can’t stop thinking about how Red will inevitably blame himself for anything that happens to you. 

You close your eyes, trying to make peace with what is likely the hour of your death. You’re in a house of God, you should be praying to him, and yet all you can think of is Red. Your Red.

A gunshot rings out, followed by another, and another. When seconds pass and you feel no pain you open your eyes, just in time to witness the Red Hood reaching gently for your face. Despite yourself, you flinch slightly when his gloved hand brushes lightly against your cheek. 

He reels back as if stricken, and immediately you wish to rectify your mistake. With a sob, you launch yourself into his arms, ignoring what is probably the corpses of the three men lying on the ground. 

“You saved me,” you mumbled against his chest, relishing in how safe you felt encased in his arms. 

“Always.” There’s such surety in that single word, such devotion that you believe him. 

“Red — ” you mumble, pulling away to meet what you expect to be the whites of his mask, only to gasp when you find yourself looking into swirling pools of blue-green. 

“Jason,” the whispered name is a confession to you alone, though you barely have time to ponder the new information before a pair of lips descend upon your own. Your eyes flutter closed once more, hands wrapping around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. 

You’ll deal with the after-effects of what you just experienced later, what almost happened to you, for now, you’re content to remain absorbed in Red’s — in Jason’s arms.

The man who'd been there when God wasn't.

[whumpthemusical]

Whump: The Musical Prompts!!

As stated before, this challenge will run from March 1- March 31, 2024. All fandoms are welcome to participate despite it being prompts based off of musicals. Once again, all types of media are allowed. This challenge has the standard "choose one for the day" style, but feel free to do all three prompts if that's what you want to do!! All types of whump are allowed, but please be respectful to your fellow audience members and properly tag it!! Some of these prompts are sensitive, so make sure you warn your readers correctly! There will be an ao3 collection and an FAQ post coming soon, so if you have any further questions or comments about this challenge, feel free to drop me a line. Happy writing, my beautiful ingénues, and enjoy the show :)))

The prompts will be listed under the cut for those who have difficulty reading fonts!!

Cats- Sabotage • Second Chances • "I Can Dream Of The Old Days."

Wicked- Mob Mentality • Propaganda • "No Good Deed Goes Unpunished."

Jesus Christ Superstar- Whipping • Betrayal • "Then I Was Inspired, Now I'm Sad And Tired."

Les Mis- Survivor's Guilt • Failure • "Drink With Me To Days Gone By."

Heathers- Poison • Reluctant Whumper • "Wanna fight for me?"

Newsies- Chronic Pain • Exploitation • "Let 'Em Laugh In My Face, I Don't Care."

The Last Five Years- Infidelity • Gaslighting • "I Will Not Lose Because You Can't WIn."

Hadestown- Deals • Doomed Narrative • "Doubt Comes In."

Sweeney Todd- False Imprisonment • Razors • "Have You Decided It's Safer In Cages?"

Rent- Substance Abuse • Poverty • "Feels Too Much Damn Like Home."

Bare: A Pop Opera- Outing • Religious Trauma • "Please, See Me."

Waitress- Unplanned Pregnancy • Abuse • "She Is Broken And Won't Ask For Help."

Tick Tick Boom- Atychiphobia • Working To Exhaustion • "Is This Real Life?"

Dear Evan Hansen- Deception • Broken Bone • "Words Fail."

West Side Story- Star-Crossed Lovers • Prejudices • "A Boy Who Kills Cannot Love."

Come From Away- Stranded • Aftermath • "Blankets And Bedding And Maybe Some Food."

Spring Awakening- Withheld Information • Suicide  • "I Don't Scream, Though I Know It's Wrong."

Hamilton- Hurricane  • Dueling • "I Will Kill Your Friends And Family To Remind You Of My Love."

Falsettos- Sickness • Identity Issues • "Death Is Not A Friend."

Into The Woods- Blame • Lost • "Nothing But A Vast Midnight."

The Great Comet- Abduction • Letters • "Did You Love That Bad Man?"

In The Heights- Grief • Homesickness • "I Know That I'm Letting You Down."

Be More Chill- Mind Manipulation • Panic Attack • "Everything About Me Makes Me Want To Die."

Moulin Rouge- Class Differences • Sex Work • "Come What May."

Chicago- Cold Blood • Trial • "He Had It Coming."

Six- Execution • Trauma Bonding • "Playtime's Over."

Ride The Cyclone- Unexpected Tragedy • Forgotten Whumpee • "I Hear The Anguish Of The Street."

The Rocky Horror Show- Obsession • Wrong Place, Wrong Time • "I've Seen Blue Skies Through The Tears."

Nerdy Prudes Must Die- Bullying • Ritual • "Who Will Pray For You?"

Jekyll And Hyde- Duality • Good Vs Evil • "If I Die, You'll Die."

Phantom Of The Opera- Disfiguration • Shunned • "My Power Over You Grows Stronger Yet."

[p3ndeja6]

₊ ⊹🪻 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🔮

n.amaro x reader

summary: you were younger then nick by a couple of years, and sometimes he’d come over to your apartment after late nights at the precinct, he’d come over to just enjoy peace and serenity

content: fluff, reader is in school (2nd or 3rd year of college) suggestive acts (nothing extreme), age gap!, mentions of sexual abuse due to svu cases, nothing too triggering, just a fluffy one shot overall

super short

✧ ✧

it was late at night, you were working on an essay that was due by the end of the week.. you were getting strained and decided to take a break and call it a day.

You made yourself a quick meal, spicy buldak noodles, a sandwich and your favorite drink that was saved in the fridge. You prepared your meal as you were watching your favorite show. you were almost done preparing your late-night snack when you heard the doorknob shake.

You lived a pretty safe vicinity so the chances of a burgler were slim, but you still were vigilant about your safety, you quickly grabbed your broom and held it tight.

Upon your discovery, the door opened and you saw your boyfriend… nick.

You sighed of relief, and he looked at you worried

“Jesus Nick, you scared me!” “geez sorry, i thought this neighbor was safe?”

you put the broom down, “I mean it is but you never know” “yeah.. tell me about it”

he walked to you as you went back in finishing preparing your ramen, he went behind you and grabbed you hips and nuzzled his head in between your neck, kissing you, making you giggle due to his stubble

he continued and you moved your head slightly to give him more access, he took this as a sign to continue. You tried not to get distracted but you let a soft moan escape.

he laughed,and started moving up your body; cupping your boobs. You laughed and finally pushed him away

“stop Nick” you laughed “I want to eat, I’ve been working on an assignment for the past 5 hours.” he let go and laughed “my hard working girl, okay okay I’ll let you eat but next time, you’re all mine!”

you shook your head in sarcasm, he took of his jacket and unbuttoned his white shirt a couple of buttons down, and took off his shoes. He adjusted himself on your couch, and laid there with his eyes closed taking in the aroma therapy essential oils diffuser thats going around your room.

you look at him, now realizing that he’s here strangely. Nick stops by late nights most weekends or if it’s a weekday he’ll let you know earlier in the day if he’s stopping by, but it’s currently a Tuesday at 12:36 am.

“hey Nick?”

he hummed in response, most likely getting sleepy

“not to sound rude or anything.. but why are you here? It’s late on a Tuesday night, shouldn’t you be at your place?”

He opened one eye and looked over at you

“do you not want me here?” He said a bit suspicious

“oh god, no like yeah I do, but I just realized what day it was and you know you usually let me know when you’re coming over and it’s usually weekends you spend the night with me, I just found it odd you came to visit me tonight” “I love it when you’re here really”

you finally finished your ramen and took it towards the couch where Nick was, and started eating as you waited for a response.

he was hesitant in his answer, he seemed stressed and frustrated.

“today we had a tough case.. a rape case..”

you look at him attentively, making sure you are hearing him and that he has your fullest attention.

you nod in continuous

“and well… it’s about a 8 year old girl who’s after school teacher has been acting inappropriately with her.. you know like touching her where she shouldn’t be touched”

“oh my god” was what you let out

“yeah, and her home life isn’t easy, this one was a bit tough to work on dude to how young and bright this little girl is. I hate to see anyone take it away from her”

you put your ramen down and get close to him, caressing his hand.

“and being here.. with you just brings me peace. All is perfect here, so sorry i came unexpected but i really needed to see you”

you smiled at him

“awe baby, you know you are always welcomed here, I love having you here, never goes a day where I don’t miss you”

you make him look at you and caress his cheek, looking so attentively at his eyes, leaning in and kissing him so gracefully.

he takes you in, and guides a hand on your neck. You move to his lap and continue to kiss him, sucking on each others lips, and you slightly grinding on him

he groans a bit and you continue to bit his lip. You pull away with his lip in between your teeth and stare at him and run a finger across his now plumped lips

“thank you for coming over”

“thank you for having me”

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR FIFTEEN

in which Eddie learns what it means to be honest, and you learn that some answers can only lead to more questions.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 4.7k+

→ a/n: this chapter is my enemy. that's all. all the homies hate this chapter for the hell it gave me both in writing it and posting it

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

15:00 ────────ㅇ─────── 24:00

SIX MONTHS EARLIER

You were so caught up in your own disappointment, you never saw the flash of recognition that crossed Eddie’s face. Only the anger that followed.

“Is that the dude who stood you up?” 

His voice is weak as he asks the question, a breath that barely reaches your ears as you jump at the unexpected proximity. 

“What?” you spin around to face him, “Jesus Christ, why are you creeping over my shoulder at my phone? Trying to see who else doesn’t follow me on Instagram?” 

He cringes at your bitter tone, all the vodka you’ve turned to venom in your hurt, “You didn’t answer my question – is that him?” 

“Why do you care?” 

It’s the short version of the real questions binding you. A million different threads of confusion, and each one constricts you tighter than the last, all of them tangling together in the confusion. 

Why do you care when you dislike me so vigorously? Why do you care when you’ll only use my answer as ammunition against me? Why do you care to hurt me so badly tonight? Why do you care if Nancy and I are friends? Why do you care to point out how I don’t belong in this group-

“I don’t,” he interrupts your internal panic, pausing the restless twisting of anxious twine. 

You take a deep breath, you let your eyes wander over him, taking him in. He’s ditched the soft-spoken act, his voice coming out powerful finally. The confidence is almost overdone; he sounds as if he’s trying to make up for something not there. 

You crave for distance to be put between the two of you, but he makes no move to step away as you ask, “Then why do you keep asking me?” 

You can’t begin to understand him, completely unsure of where to ever start with the task. He’s a hollow stranger of the man you’d initially met that night in the bar. You’ve seen how he acts with the others, how he treats Nancy like royalty at times and how he’s warm with Argyle. You’ve seen him share joints and laughter alike with Jonathan. It’s hard to miss when he and Steve both begin to get overly passionate about a topic, Robin always finding a way to join in. Eddie is capable of warmth and care, of friendship and genuine love, but not when it comes to you. 

“I was just curious, sue me.” 

“If I had a good lawyer, I would,” you snap back quickly, patience wearing thin. 

It makes him grin – a damn grin. Shit-eating as ever as he replies, “I know a guy if you’d like one,” and he keeps grinning, and you don’t even notice when a line is crossed and that faux glee no longer meets his eyes as he continues,  “Speaking of knowing a guy – do you know the guy on your screen?” 

The threads are twisting again, and the friction is leaving your blood boiling. “Fucking obviously.” 

“Is he the one who stood you up?” 

“Fuck off, Eddie.” 

You can’t handle this right now. You’re drunk – not so drunk you won’t remember the night, but still damn drunk – and you’re overthinking. Letting the threads cut off circulation to your brain, letting yourself only be consumed with overthinking about your place within the group. You don’t even have the capacity to question why Eddie is so persistent in finding out about the bartender who left you looking like a fool the night before; you miss his genuine, burning curiosity and the anger that still broods in him as your anxiety bubbles up. 

Were you and Nancy friends? Maybe Instagram did matter. Surely, she followed everyone else in the group, didn’t she? 

“Why won’t you just answer the question? Why are you so damn stubb-” 

“You don’t care!” you nearly scream, throwing your hands up in defeat, slamming your phone down onto the counter beside you, “You don’t care, you’ve made that clear, so I don’t understand why you need to hear me say it so fucking badly. Why do you need to hear me admit how pathetic I am? We both know where this is going – I say yes, you use it against me, I end up looking like a fool for a second night in a row,” your chest heaves and your eyes burn, but you won’t look at him. You can’t bear witness to him watching you bleed in the middle of Steve’s kitchen, “I’m not doing it. Not tonight.” 

He looks as if you had slapped him. Stunned, aghast, taking a step back to finally give you the space you had so desperately craved. You don’t even really care about it anymore; the damage is done and you’re already spiraling, thanks to him. 

“Do you think so little of me?” 

His voice is small again. Deceptively soft, a treacherous whisper you know you can’t look into. He’s not really hurt. It’s all probably an act, a guise to get you to play into how he wants the night to go. 

“With what you’ve given me to work with?” you scoff, still blinking your eyes rapidly, trying to stave off the waterworks, “Yeah. Yeah, I am starting to think that little of you.” 

“Have you considered I was just trying to be friend-” 

You’re not sure how his sentence is going to end, whether he would claim to be trying to be friendly or trying to be friends. You’re not sure which one makes you more livid.

It’s the second one. “You just mocked me, made me doubt if I had fucking friends all because of Nancy not following me on Instagram. Don’t you dare say you were trying to be friends with me right now.” 

If you were more sober, you would have cursed yourself for blatantly revealing to him that he’d gotten to you. Your wounds were now on display for him, and you stiffened as you realized and awaited the expected handful of salt he’d be rubbing into them. 

We thought he wasn’t going to come, so we invited you instead.

The fight’s only just begun and you’ve already lost – not just this battle, but the entire war.

You know they would choose him. If your friends were given the choice between you two, they’d choose him. And it shouldn’t sting, it’s expected given how long the group has known each other, but Eddie’s animosity towards you has done nothing to soothe the ache stirred by that truth. You would never ask them to choose, you know better, but you’ve always known the answer.

It’s him, not you. 

“I was joking-” 

“No, that was not joking. It wasn’t funny. It was mean.” 

Mean, cruel, ruthless. What Eddie did rings sharply in your chest, in your brain that’s currently running on overtime to process your waves of emotions. The threads are so tight, you expect to see a puddle of blood at your feet on Steve and Robin’s kitchen floor. 

“As if you’re any better,” he sharply laughs in disbelief, shaking his head, “You want to talk about mean? Let’s talk about my date with Chrissy and you’re fucking fiasco.” 

Your stomach drops. The battlefield lurches into uneven ground, because what you did really was unfair. But you had been bitter, and you had been mean, and you had been…. 

You had been jealous. Jealous not of the romance that was honestly leaving much to be desired between him and Chrissy, but that platonic friendship. The kind you had yet to earn from him. The kind you were starting to doubt if you ever had, genuinely, with the rest of the group. 

“I’m-”

“Sorry? Yeah, well, sorry don't make her call me back.” 

This is where, if you were speaking with anyone besides Eddie, you offer a real, genuine apology. 

But you’re speaking with Eddie. You’re burnt out from a long week, your pride still remains wounded, you’re suddenly questioning if you even have any friends, you’re drunk, and you’re speaking with Eddie. 

A genuine apology would be like terrible shards, dredged up your throat and being clung to desperately by your whining pride. You’re bleeding enough as it is without that. 

“My apologies, friend. I am so terribly sorry you weren’t able to get your dick wet.” 

You both deserved what was coming, really. You deserved it. Because suddenly, just as it always ended up between you two, hateful words were exchanged. The worst part isn’t when Eddie snarks about how at least he can get his dick wet, unlike you, nor is it when you spit out how being a slut isn’t something to be proud of. It’s a blur of sharp tongues and jabbing knives, both of you swiping for any which way to make the other bleed. 

It’s the cruelest you’ve been to each other yet, because somewhere below all of the surface-level insults, there’s real pain pulsing there. There’s your bloodied threads of anxiety, wretched thoughts and doubts as to if you should even be in this apartment tonight. There’s something more in the lines that form between Eddie’s furrowed brows as he matches your anger. His volume raises right along yours, and whenever his voice breaks over certain quick-dagger remarks, you don’t look into it. Especially not when it happens as he brings up the bartender again. All the failed dates, as he so kindly reminds you of. 

“For someone who claims to not fucking care, you sure do talk a lot about those ridiculous fucking dates,” you seethe finally. Somewhere in the argument, you’d downed the rest of your drink, leaving an empty glass beside you. 

“Because they prove my point!” he shouts in exasperation, “Because you… you… you can’t take a fucking hint.”

A final thread wraps around your throat. You feel as if you can’t breathe. 

“And what is that hint, exactly?” your tone shakes as you ask it, past anger and past heartbreak. 

Why do you still care what he thinks? Do you still care what he thinks?

The vodka says yes. 

Yet Eddie says no, shaking his head immediately.

“Oh, so now you don’t want to speak your mind?” you hate how vulnerable you are, the lilt of your voice with unshed tears and the crack in your chest that you’re sure he can hear. You want to scream, you want to pound your fists against his chest. You want to throw a proper tantrum, like an absolute child. Like a little kid on the playground who no one wanted to play with, “You had all this shit to say, and now you bite your tongue? Fuck you, Eddie.” 

“You don’t want to actually know,” he says flatly. He’s emotionless, and it burns you even further. Here you are, overflowing your cup with all your emotions, and his well has run dry. Even the tick you had managed to get out of his jaw is gone. All the anger, all the false signs of him actually caring have vanished.

You bite down on your lip, struggling to take a deep breath. Trying to even your anger, to bring yourself down to his level. You’re tired of the uneven battle ground. “I don’t? I never knew you were a mindreader.” 

“Don’t have to be a mindreader to see the way you’re about to burst into fucking tears.” 

You suddenly wish you could take the glass on the counter beside you and just toss it at him, full force. Make him physically bleed as he continues to stab at your pride, your ego, your emotions. 

You’re not even sure he’d bleed at this point. Maybe he’s a fucking robot designed to do nothing but hurt you. 

“Fuck you,” you state plainly as the first tear falls, repeating yourself with a more vindictive tone, “Fuck you. It’s not like you care about my fucking feelings, so just say it.” 

 “Fine,” he’s still so indifferent, still so emotionless, “You’re so dense, you never realize that you’re not wanted. Not by those assholes, not here-” 

It’s your final breaking point. You don’t care to hear the rest of his sentence, temper taking the reins as you reach for the glass beside you. 

You throw as hard as you can. 

You tell yourself it’s dumb luck and bad aim when the glass shatters against the wall behind Eddie and not his shocked face. Not mercy. Not the ghost of hope, evaporating with a whisper of glass shards as the final shovel full of dirt falls upon the grave. You can see it clearly, the gravestone that marks the fresh grave: Here Lies Possibility. Here Lies All That Could Have Been. 

It’s over. Eddie knows it – his emotion finally shows, but you don’t stick around to see it. 

Eddie’s wrong. For once, you see you’re not wanted, and make the choice to leave.

—

HOUR FIFTEEN - 6:00 AM

“It was about you. I got banned because of you.” 

You don’t know how to respond at first. Honesty hangs heavy between the two of you, suffocating in the morning light. 

You asked him for honesty. He gave you honesty.

It should be a celebration, but all it does is build a pit in the bottom of your stomach that threatens to weigh you down to the bottom of his ocean. 

When you finally respond, you enunciate each word carefully, “Eddie. What do you mean?” 

“I got banned. From the bar. Because of you.”

“No, yeah, I gathered that,” you stress, the crease between your brow deepening, “But…. I… elaborate?”

You can hear the cars on the street below, echoing honks and engines thrumming. Songbirds sing in the distance and shops are opening; the entire world surrounding you two is awakening with a long yawn and a gentle stretch. 

Your world feels as though it is coming to a full stop, but life is carrying on. 

“Which part?” he breaths out a humorless laugh, “The part where I got banned, or the part where it was because of you? Because the ban is pretty straight forward – I threw a punch at a guy, he threw a punch back, now I can’t step foot in Fat Tuesday on Mill Ave-”

“The part where it’s because of me, you idiot,” you interrupt him in exasperation, “What the hell do you mean you got banned because of me?” 

Silence. You’re met with silence. 

Maybe honesty has run dry, just like that. 

You search his face and count your luck, at least he admitted this much, before sighing, “Okay. You don’t have to tell me-” 

The honesty comes bursting out of him. The well of it is anything but dry, “It was the bartender that stood you up. He was there that night after our fight, after the party at Steve’s.” 

The bartender. 

You hadn’t thought of that guy in ages, had long since forgotten his name and face since he’d bruised your ego. 

“I…” your voice trails off, unsure and unsteady as you take tentative steps away from the balcony’s railing, “I’m… honored?” 

Honored isn’t quite the right word. You really don’t know how to feel right now. Should you be thanking him, assuming it was in your honor that he started the fight? Or should you press on, test the limits of honesty and figure out if you’re interpreting this entire confession incorrectly? 

Eddie chuckles dryly before he suddenly walks over to one of the two lounge chairs on the balcony, a small table separating them adorned with a crystal ashtray, “That’s all?”

“Should I not be?” Confusion bursts and blooms across your face, and Eddie’s only reaction to it is furrowed brows as he sits down, “I mean, you just told me you not only threw a punch, but took a punch from some dude who stood me up on a first date once. I think at the very least I should be-”

“I expected you to have more questions,” Eddie cuts you off as he taps his carton of cigarettes on the table beside you, more of a habit than a necessity. His knee is bouncing with each tap, an invisible beat you try to track and end up failing miserably before you take the other chair beside him, “You always have more questions.” 

I do, you think immediately, I have a million and one questions I can’t ask.

Each question flurries past you in a blur, and you’re sure if they’re capable of making you dizzy that there’s no way Eddie could handle them all being thrown at him. There’s also a small part of you still terrified that pressing too far will send him running; ask one wrong thing, and Eddie will retreat to his tall, defensive walls, once again separating him from you. Progress, no matter how minimal, is progress. You can’t risk backtracking. 

“Of course I do,” you repay his debt of honesty in a quiet tone, nimbly picking at the hem of his sweatshirt as it brushes your thigh. 

“Then ask them.”

“If I ask you more questions, are you going to shut me out?” 

The entire morning stills. The breeze turns stale, the sounds of the Sunday hustling and bustling seemingly pause. 

You can’t help but look into his big, brown eyes. You try to communicate with a single look, a silent plea for him to please say he isn’t. 

“I won’t shut you out,” he’s hardly louder than a whisper, but that’s enough for you.

You don’t know where to start: Did you punch him because of me? Did he say something first? Did you have an ulterior motive? Did you know about my date with him before that night? Did you guys talk about me?

The final one sparks a chill down your spine, uncomfortable at the thought of Eddie having discussed you with the bartender, having been the one to tarnish the man’s view of you enough to leave you stranded at a restaurant alone. 

Normally, you’d slowly ease him to the point of your actual question. But your patience has vanished as you look at him now, as you watch him under the promise that he won’t shut you out.

“How did you know him before the fight?” 

His lips twitch with a grin, “I was a regular, he was a bartender. Can I make it anymore obvious?” 

“Are you quoting Avril Lavigne to me right now?” you ask, flabbergasted before shaking your head in an attempt to clear your thoughts and move past this joke, “You know what? Forget I asked – so he served you often? Were you…. Were you friendly?” 

“Well, he once took me out behind the bar and kissed me, but he never got around to buying me dinner. Might have been because of my mean right hook, but who knows-”

“Eddie,” Your voice cracks in desperation, “Please, be serious. Just for one minute.” 

It kills you to say it, because part of you is convinced this is a vision of the boy you’ve been chasing after for so long. This is the boy who is best friends with Nancy. This is the boy who is always invited without hesitation to smoke with Jonathan and Argyle. This is the boy that Steve and Robin had ranted and raved about in all those classes before you’d met him. This is the boy you’d met that first night in the bar in brief passing, and had been seeking out ever since. 

A boy who felt like coming home after a long week.

It kills you to tell him to quiet down all the grins and jokes that are making your heart ache in such a terribly peculiar way.

“I’m sorry,” something in you gleams with gratuity when his grin takes it’s time fading, him throwing up his hands in faux defense, his playful tone still woven carefully. He’s not shutting you out. “I can be serious. I- Give me a second. Scout’s honor, I can stop fucking around.” 

“You better,” you jilt, caving into the joking ever so slightly. 

It’s easy to do when he looks at you this way. His eyes sparkle as if the honesty has freed him of some great weight. However he had expected you to react, it wasn’t this way. 

All at once, he has become something brand new to you. You’re in his sweatshirt, barefoot on his balcony as you can still smell his last cigarette lingering in the air, and you wonder if you’ve never considered yourself a morning person because you’ve never experienced a Sunday morning with Eddie. If you had felt his morning light like this before, even in a sleep-deprived haze, you would have certainly enjoyed the early hours sooner. 

“Okay, okay,” he takes a deep breath, forces away the grin you can still see in the crinkles beside his eyes, “To answer your question, no. We weren’t really friends, I didn’t even know his name and I’m pretty sure he didn’t know mine. He just knew my order.”

“Whiskey and coke,” you whisper, pulling a knee up to your chin, resting it and looking at Eddie with unbridled softness. Fifteen hours ago, you couldn’t have known nor cared about his go-to drink.

“Whiskey and coke,” he confirms. It’s in the pull of his lips – he’s fighting another smile, feeling just as soft as you are at the way you’ve learned something new about him, “Not that it’s hard to remember. Definitely easier than an amaretto sour.” 

“Amaretto sours are not hard to remember,” you shake your head ever so slightly, chin slipping and lips dragging across the skin of your knee. Eddie’s eyes waste no time focusing on the movement, “Okay. So you two weren’t really friends, that’s good to know. I guess my next question would be, was he working that night?” 

Eddie leans forward, elbows pressing into the tops of his thighs, “Are you asking if I’m badass enough to storm into a bar and throw a punch at the bartender on duty to defend your honor?” 

His words paint quite the picture for you. “Did you?”

“No. Lower your expectations of me, please.” 

It takes everything in you to not just throw your head back in laughter, having to settle on giggles suffocated against the skin of your knee still. You wrap your arms around your shin tightly, keeping your leg folded up into you as you shake with the soft laughter. 

“Okay, one last question - who threw the first punch?” you sigh. The image of how fearful Eddie had looked when he’d first admitted to this entire ordeal is silly now. You already know the answer to this question, he wouldn’t have been so nervous to tell you if he hadn’t been the one instigating the entire thing, but you ask it to humor the two of you. 

It’s a good distraction from the buds and blooms alike, all awakening along your vines. The vines don’t feel so constricting anymore. As a matter of fact, you think you’re able to recognize their beauty for the first time. Verdant greenery lined with splashes of reds, of violets, of yellows that are almost the same brilliant shade of gold that his eyes seemingly flash every time the sun hits them just right. 

“I did,” he answers just as you expected. He also shrinks into himself, just as you had also expected, “I just saw him there, and- actually, I don’t know if this next part is just an insult to injury but I…” he trails off, not taking a single breath as he meets your gaze. You’re sure he’s searching for anger, for repulsiveness, for hurt. He’ll find none. You only nod your head and encourage him to keep going, “Okay, he was there on a fuckin’ date, sweetheart. A date, the night after he stood you up. So I just…I just decked him. And honestly? I don’t regret it. He deserved it.” 

When he’s finally finished spilling his guts, you’re left fighting a grin and an overflowing chest of blooms. He’s flushed and nervous and goddamn it, he beat the shit out of some dude in your honor. You should scold him or be more upset, but you only start laughing again. 

“Why are you laughing?” Eddie scrunches up his face, continuing to lean forward, almost as if trying to get closer to you, “Seriously, what’s so funny about that?” 

You’ve thrown your head back in delight now, just as you had wanted to earlier, and release your hold on your leg as it falls back down from your chest, “Jesus Christ, I wish I could have seen that in person.” 

Eddie’s stunned. But you mean it – if your heartbroken self from six months ago had witnessed that, you would have considered Eddie your best friend immediately. This entire feud would have been cut six months short just from one simple punch. 

“I’m sorry,” you gasp out, desperately trying to compose yourself once more, “I really shouldn’t condone violence. I just – man, I cried over that guy. A whole month of those stupid, cheesy, ‘good-morning-beautiful’ texts, and he had just left me hanging, y’know? I mean, I’m sure he’s not a bad person-”

“No,” Eddie interrupts, smiling right along with you, “No, as far as we should be concerned, he’s a fucking asshole. Fuck defending him, we’re never going to see him again anyways.” 

 We’re never going to see him again. 

Eddie probably has no idea what he’s done, referring to the two of you as a joint unit for the first time in a future tense, but it makes you ache all over. That heartache and warmth you felt for him is no longer secluded to just your chest; you feel it from your toes all the way to your scalp, traveling and leaving kisses of goosebumps in its trail. A sudden yearning floods your entire nervous system, the entire roadmap of your heart and your veins and your arteries – you like the image of you and Eddie, Eddie and you, still being a resemblance of a pair beyond just these measly twenty four hours. You like to imagine being able to call him up out of boredom some time next week. You like the thought of him joining on bar crawls with you and the girls. You like the thought of spending every Sunday morning with him from here on out. 

Some of those are reasonable. Some of those aren’t. The yearning rushes through you all the same. 

“Yeah,” you agree softly, “We’re never going to see him again. Fuck him.” 

Eddie hums and leans back in his chair, finally beginning to relax, leaving you a moment to reflect. 

He was telling the truth, he had been honest; he had gotten banned from a bar for you. He’d seen the bartender who stood you up, and he’d decided to defend your honor. Even after that night. Even after that fight. Even after the glass you had thrown. 

Even after the cruel words he had said. 

The yearning stops in its tracks, coming to a rough halt as you glance up at him sharply. 

Even after the cruel words he had said, even after claiming you weren’t someone who was wanted, he’d defended you. 

“You know what?” he suddenly says, but your mind is still whirling and you can only hum in response, “I kind of like honesty. I sort of dig it,” you wish you could muster up more than a smile as he boyishly grins at you, “What else do you wanna know? Hit me, sweetheart.” 

Sweetheart. The yearning rushes past the floodgates, the pink strikes your cheeks, the ache rings out from the very hollows of your bones. 

You know what you really want to ask him can’t be answered right now. Because even with the change in him, the one that weakens your knees and has you wishing for things in the future, he was still once the man from that night. He still once made you bleed, made you cry. And even if he’s apologized, and you know he means it, it can’t erase that fact. 

And it worries you. Because as all the feelings swell in your chest, you’re left with yet another unanswered question. 

Why would you defend me after that fight?

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @amira0303 @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @tlclick73 @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777

taglist is now closed.

[joostsblog]

caught in the middle part three: spinning ~ a Ski Aggu / Joost Klein x reader series

My masterlist here ✨💌 caught in the middle series masterlist here

Pairing: Ski Aggu x female!reader (+ Joost Klein x female!reader)

Description: You spend the morning with Aggu when an unexpected visitor causes you a little bit of emotional turmoil.

Word Count: 1k

A/N: reminder that this is "picnic day" turned into a series. If you wanna catch up on the other parts click the link to the masterlist above

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, SMUT, nsfw, oral (f receiving), not proofread

Aggu's fingertips danced over the skin of your stomach and you giggled. After yesterday's events, he had stayed the night at your place and you had woken up to him watching your face. After some breakfast, you somehow ended up in bed again, slowly undressing.

That's when Aggu's hand grabbed your waist and pulled you towards him. Your legs tangled with his, your hand on his chest and your lips pressed against Aggu's. His thumb drew circles on your waist and you cupped his cheek as you lost yourself in the kiss.

The shrill sound of your doorbell suddenly rang through your ears and you groaned in frustration.

"Doesn't matter," you mumbled and kept kissing Aggu choosing to ignore whoever was at the door. Aggu's arm drew you even closer to him and you deepened the kiss. Another ring at the door. "Jesus Christ," you groaned.

"You might wanna get that," Aggu suggested and patted your back.

You got up from the bed and quickly grabbed some shorts and a T-shirt to put on before you stumbled through the corridor to the front door.

"Joost!" you stated surprised after you opened the door.

"(Y/N)." Joost grinned at you. The man looked as good as ever standing in front of you and you were embarrassed by the state of you. Messy hair and clothes, no makeup, cheeks and lips probably flushed from your arousal. "I like that shirt," Joost pointed to your chest and you looked down at yourself to see that you were wearing the I ♥️ Joost Klein shirt he had gotten you as a gift a while back.

"Oh," you laughed softly.

"Anyways," Joost continued. "I got your picnic blanket," he said and extended said blanket towards you. As you and Aggu left in a hurry yesterday you had left the blanket with your friends behind. You do remember some talk of someone getting it to you today but you really didn't expect that person to be Joost somehow.

"Oh, right. Thanks," you said and took the blanket from his hands, not really knowing what to say next. Suddenly you noticed Joost's soft smile drop from his face before you heard Aggu's voice coming from behind you.

"Aaayy, Jooooost!" Aggu stepped into the doorframe only dressed in his boxer briefs and you immediately wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

"Aaaay," Joost replied as Aggu engulfed him in a hug.

"What's up, man?" Aggu asked.

"Just dropped by real quick," Joost shrugged. You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned against the door frame hoping this interaction would end as soon as possible. "I'll see you tomorrow, right?" Joost asked and for a millisecond, you hoped he meant you.

"Yeah, I'll text you later," Aggu replied and you breathed a sigh of relief as the two men said their goodbyes.

"See you," you said to Joost with a timid smile.

"See you," he nodded as he turned around to leave.

You closed the door and dropped the picnic blanket to the floor.

"Jesus," you muttered and Aggu furrowed his brows questioning. "Whatever," you brushed it off and were glad when Aggu didn't press any further.

You pushed Aggu's body to get him back into your bedroom and soon you were laying on the bed again, lips pressed against each other. Aggu's hands fumbled with the fabric of your T-shirt.

"I'd rather you take that off," he grinned and you pulled the shirt over your head.

"Fair enough," you said before leaning down to kiss Aggu again.

"Sit on me," Aggu said as he briefly broke the kiss. You shifted between the messy bedsheets and quickly straddled Aggu's hips. He grinned up at you, his hands resting on your hips. "I meant somewhere else," he said mischievously.

"Oh."

Aggu's hands moved to remove your shorts quickly before he placed them on your hips again. His hands guided you until your bare pussy was above his mouth. You grabbed the headboard of the bed to steady yourself as you lowered yourself down, quivering with anticipation. Aggu met your wet pussy with his open mouth, his tongue slipping into your folds and immediately circling your clit. He almost appeared greedy as he opened his mouth further, taking more of you in. Your arms trembled when his tongue dipped into your hole and a soft and warm wave of pleasure rolled throughout your body.

You were desperate to feel more so you started moving your hips back and forth, making your clit dance on Aggu's tongue. The moans that escaped your mouth were obscene and grew higher as the arousal kept welling up inside you. Aggu hummed against your pussy approvingly when he noticed that you were close to your orgasm. As his tongue focused on your clit again he slipped two fingers inside you, his fingertips softly stroking against your walls as he slowly pumped in and out of you. Your arms were close to giving in as you were just at the tipping point before cumming. Aggu's arm steadied you to prevent your body from flopping forward, his tongue flicking over your sensitive bud. It didn't take much more before you were a trembling mess on Aggu's tongue as your orgasm washed over you, knocking the breath out of your lungs. Aggu's lips kept on sucking on your clit until you couldn't take it anymore and you mumblingly told Aggu to stop.

You collapsed beside Aggu on the bed. His fingertips danced over your stomach. His eyes were so lovingly and his smile was so soft and you wondered what this feeling in your gut you couldn't quite describe was. In this bed, it was just you and Aggu and in that moment and time you could see a future pan out for the two of you. But you knew that outside of his moment, there was also Joost who complicated your feelings quite a bit.

But at this moment you decided to let yourself get lost in those eyes looking back at you and that was all that mattered right now.

[makeyoumine69]

Husband!Patrick Bateman having a breeding kink | NSFW HEADCANON

Pairing: Hubby!Patrick Bateman x Shy!Fem!Reader; CW: SMUT, p in v sex, creampie, oral (f), body worship, dirty talk, praise kink, etc. Links: [MASTERLIST].

✔ Patrick Bateman would be the last person to say that parenthood was his thing, but at the same time he couldn't deny that the idea of breeding you was kind of alluring and captivating, even depraved. He always saw you as a shy little girl, and just the thought of claiming you in such an intimate way made his manhood ache. ✔ If you asked him where he preferred to cum, Patrick would always say — inside. Before you two got married, you always took birth control pills since you were not ready to have children, but right after your wedding, Bateman started asking you questions about family, because every time you ran into anyone with kids, he could see your awestruck gaze — which was too eloquent, but once again, you were too timid to tell him about trying for a baby.  ✔ Bateman didn't like anything to do with children, you knew that and respected that, until one day he came home from work to find you sitting on the couch with a glass of red wine — your favorite, the sort he would always remember.  ✔ With feline grace, Patrick approached your small and attractive frame, which had already become family to him. "What's on your mind, honey?" ✔ You would squeak at his unexpected touch, but then immediately snuggle into his big and warm palm, because you missed him so much. "Oh, I didn't even hear you coming," you would smile, closing your eyes as his thumb gently slid over your lips. "Actually, I was thinking about us..." ✔ "Us?" He repeated, and only now did you notice that he was hiding something behind his back. "I'm intrigued." ✔ Slowly, Bateman walked around the couch and sat down next to you, his expensive perfume immediately enveloping you.  ✔ "Uh, nothing serious, really," you tried to joke back, feeling the impending heat cursing through your form as the mere physical contact with his strong body made you feel so weak and small. "I was just thinking that... I'm so happy to be with you..." ✔ You could swear you just noticed his brown eyes gleaming with pure adoration at your words. "It's mutual, darling," Patrick purred, leaning down to kiss you on the lips, cupping your face and tilting it to deepen the kiss. "All day at the office," he gave you both a moment of respite. "I've been thinking about you." ✔ His lips sent you far away from here, his sturdy arms were your keep, when Bateman was around you feared nothing. When he broke the kiss, you felt something soft on your knees, and you couldn't contain your surprise when you looked down and saw a cute, plushy bear. ✔ "Oh my gosh," you grinned and hugged the toy — the sight of your childlike happiness made Bateman's heart flutter. "This is so adorable. Thank you, Patrick." ✔ "You're welcome, (y/n)," he almost whispered in a hoarse voice, his hands still on your waist. "If you like this plushy fellow so much, I can't imagine how our little one would react." ✔ You almost choked on the air, everything you wanted to say stuck in your throat like a lump.  ✔ Jesus Christ, did he really mean it?  ✔ "Our little one?" You asked him in disbelief. ✔ "Yes, dear," he replied affectionately before taking the toy from your hands as he was about to scoop you up in his arms. "Let's try for a baby so you can give this cuddly toy to our little girl or boy." ✔ "Patrick..." You gasped and wrapped your hands around his strong neck to pull him closer. ✔ And when your mouths clashed again, Patrick registered yours move as a 'yes'. A low guttural sound escaped his broad chest as he felt your legs loop around his waist as he carried you to his bedroom. ✔ Kiss after kiss, touch after touch, you both breathed so hard that the air around you became electric. With a sly grin, he possessively unfastened your silky robe, not wasting a second to nuzzle your collarbone, placing little hickeys here and there, dotting your skin with his marks of love.

✔ "Fuck, you smell so good, sweetheart," he hummed into your ear, removing his shirt along with your robe, leaving you completely naked. "Did you miss me?"

✔ "Yes...mhm," your muffled moan echoed off the walls of the fancy bedroom as his soft fingertips eagerly explored the curves of your body, paying special attention to your hard nipples. "I missed you so much, my love."

✔ "Oh yeah?" His husky voice made you melt like butter on a summer day. "Then show me."

✔ With a shaky breath, you gently took his hand and guided it down between your legs, and when Bateman saw how soaked you were, he couldn't help but chuckle with satisfaction, but the next thing you did drove him completely wild.

✔ A little embarrassed, you brought his long fingers, glistening with your taste, to your lips.

✔ "Such a nasty little girl," he crooned, watching you intently. "So wet for me already."

✔ With that, Patrick grazed your neck, then licked your soft skin and fondled your pretty breasts. Shaking beneath him, you arched your back towards him before lying flat on the bed, opening your legs to present yourself to his lustful gaze and eliciting a loud curse to escape his tensed chest. Bateman hovered over you like a predator catching its prey, pinning you down with his weight as he unzipped his pants, and the next moment he was slowly stroking his hard length, which throbbed painfully in his hand.

✔ "Patrick," you mewled suddenly into his mouth as he attempted to kiss you. "What if...what if it won't work?"

✔ "It will," he reassured you by pecking your cheek. Carefully, he removed the last of his clothes and positioned himself between your splayed legs. "Just don't fucking think about it," Patrick murmured in a comforting tone, while he peppered your inner thigh with little smooches. "It's just you and me," he said, getting closer to your pulsating core with each gentle peck. "Do you trust me?"

✔ Propping yourself up on your elbows, you looked down at his ruffled hair, flushed face and beautiful hazel eyes. "Of course...of course I do." You nodded and before you knew it, his lips found their way to your throbbing clit, leaving a sensual kiss just below the hooded area. Then, he parted your tender flesh to take your little tip into his heated mouth. "Awww, Patrick!"

✔ An electric shock pierced through your body with each flicker of his delf tongue along your delicate petals, his skilful digits moving in a sync with his mouth as he slurped at your succulent pussy. “Mmhm, I’d never have enough of this.”

✔ Holding you tightly and not letting you close your legs, Bateman returned to his feast, alternately sucking on your bundle of nerves and flicking his wet tongue around it, peering at your beautiful face from time to time, and — the way you frowned in pleasure was like fuel to the fire.

✔ The things Patrick could do with his tongue, his lips and his mouth were as delightful as a sip of water after a hot day, but now you wanted him to take you in the truest sense of that word, you wanted him to ravage you and you wouldn't accept anything less than that.

✔ "Pat-Patrick, please...I need you...I need you inside of me," you pleaded, your hand stroking his brown, messy waves. "I want you."

✔ "Uh, so soon?" Bateman mused against your oozing folds, without stopping to pump his rock-hard dick.

✔ "Yes," you tugged a little harder at his soft hair. "Fuck me."

✔ Patrick hummed in response, allowing himself to tease you a little longer before he got up on his knees and took the nearby pillow to place it under your ass — he lifted you up so easily, his absolute power left you no choice but to surrender to his possession.

✔ Swiftly, Bateman put both of your legs on his broad shoulders, leaving a short trail of quick kisses on your trembling ankle. "I can't wait to see you blossom with maternity." His raspy voice was the only thing that mattered as he aligned himself with your dripping opening and in one powerful thrust plunged his thick cock all the way in, drawing a loud whimper from your dry lips. "Mhm, fuck...you're so tight." ✔ It took Patrick a moment to pull himself together from the way your greedy pussy was clinging to his throbbing dick. With his eyes closed, he gave you a really deep stroke before he pressed your legs closer to his chest as he leaned on his fist, finding the rhythm that would make you lose yourself. There was no way to resist that blissful sensation of being so full, so stretched, so conquered. ✔ "Yes, just like that," he praised you, hammering his strong hips against yours without taking his gaze off of you. The sight was simply incredible — your half-open mouth, your knitted eyebrows, and all of it belonged to him, your every moan, your every gasp. "Take that dick like a good girl you are," Patrick gritted his teeth from the unbearable pleasure of your soft, velvety walls encasing his dick so fucking perfectly. "Fuck, you make me so proud." ✔ "Aahh, you're so big," you cried, closing your eyes and clawing at his hips. "Mmmm, Patrick...Patrick..." ✔ Your pleading made him growl in response, and instead of spanking you or being pretty rough — which he usually preferred — Bateman moved closer to your face and put both of your legs on each of his shoulders again. "Shh, I'm here, babe," he cupped your chin and angled your head to leave a sensual hickey on your jaw. "Look at me, (y/n)," he uttered, slowing down a bit as he felt your inner channel clenching around him too vividly. "Look at me." ✔ Quivering beneath him, you didn't want to test his patience any longer, so you complied, and your eyes finally met. "I'm...I'm close," you swallowed hard at your words, not even recognizing your own voice at first. "I love you...I love you, Patrick!" ✔ Bateman couldn't stop smirking at your declaration of love, but instead of just using words, he quickly pulled out of you, only to turn you on your side to give you some nice and deep backshots.  ✔ "I know, honey," he rumbled, grasping your hip for leverage as he rammed into you mercilessly, each thrust accompanied by a nasty slap of his balls. "Tell me...tell me to cum." ✔ Clawing at your knee, you moaned pathetically as Bateman pressed you hard against the sheets, your small frame rocking violently as he fucked you into oblivion. "Cum for me…!" your voice cracked from the imminent orgasm. "Fill me with your seed...and breed me," you wrinkled the pillow underneath you as a white veil covered your vision. Once you felt Patrick convulsing against your body, his strokes became ragged and sloppy. "Yes...y-yes...please!" ✔ "Ah, f-f-fuck!" Your pleas only encouraged him to bury himself as deep as he could, his climax making him weak in the knees. The thought was so fucking astonishing; to spend his fertile cum in your womb, and soon your belly would swell with the fruit of your love. "Good girl...so good for me." ✔ Breathing heavily, he leaned down on you, pressing his sweaty cheek against yours and kissing your earlobe lovingly. Patrick purred some incoherent praises, wrapping one hand around your neck so you could rest your head on it, while another slid down your trembling body. First, he twirled your taut nipple, but then his palm suddenly changed its curse and sneaked between your thighs to rub your swollen clit. ✔ "Patrick...Patrick....a-aaah," you could repeat his name forever, but your own high washed over you like a tidal wave. "Mhmmm!" ✔ Even though you were shaking pretty badly Bateman easily held you securely under his massive body, enjoying the way you orgasmed and feeling so fucking arrogant that every twitch of your delicious body belonged to him.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[goodlittlerobot]

Steve doesn’t really understand how he got here. His life has definitely been weird the past few years, but he thinks that hanging out alone, with Eddie “The Freak” Munson, in his bedroom, might take the cake.

He sort of knows how it happened, after everything happened last spring, things started to settle. The town worked on rebuilding, Vecna seems to be gone, or at least maybe under control, school started back up for the kids, work resumed, everyone was just trying to get back to whatever normal was now.

And as things slowly got a little more boring, Steve found himself with more time to spend with friends and less worrying about the world ending. But as Steve started forming a friend group, Eddie Munson somehow became a part of it. Which Steve wasn’t upset about, Eddie had won him over in the upside down. He didn’t dislike Eddie, he’d actually grown on Steve a lot, which was unexpected.

As unexpected as it was, Steve still gets how it happens, but ending up alone with Eddie like this? Technically he knows how that happened too. The whole group had gotten together for a while at Eddie’s, then Robin and Nancy had decided to split up and go have their own night, complaining that there was “too much testosterone in the air”. Steve didn’t blame them and was happy to see Nancy and Robin become friends as well.

But after Jonathan and Argyle left a little early, it was just Steve and Eddie. And that’s when Steve quickly became aware of the fact that he’s never really been alone with Eddie before, and he isn’t sure why that makes him nervous. Sure, they’ve been alone but not for that long and not like this. But even still, Steve isn’t sure why he’s getting so flustered.

Eddie is smiling and telling him all about…something. Steve realizes he stopped listening a while ago, but he knows Eddie’s excited so he’s doing his best to act like he’s listening.

Eddie finishes with a “you know?”, Steve nods and hopes it’s convincing. “Where’d I lose ya, Harrington?” -it wasn’t.

Steve sighs, “Yeah, I zoned out pretty hard there.” He admits, smiling a little.

Eddie laughs, Steve’s heart flips. That’s weird. “Okay, let me try this again…”

It’s a few hours before Steve leaves Eddie’s place, they’d both completely lost track of time while talking. Eddie played some records, and Steve didn’t even hate them like he thought he would. They ended up listening to music and laying on Eddie’s floor, they hadn’t shut up in hours but suddenly the room was quiet. Eddie has his eyes closed, his hands behind his head and a soft, small smile on his face. Steve cannot look away. He keeps telling himself to look away, he knows Eddie’s gonna catch him staring. Steve is searching Eddie’s face for answers, but he doesn’t know what questions he’s asking. His heart is racing and his hands are starting to feel like static, and he can’t look away.

And then it happens, Eddie’s eyes open slowly and he turns his head to face Steve, “Like what you see, Harrington?”

Steve’s breath catches and he doesn’t know why. “Yeah-“ he realizes what he says, as it comes out of his mouth. “I mean no-“ he finally tears his eyes away from Eddie to close them and run a hand over his face. “I mean, wait-“

Eddie laughs, “If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you had a crush on me.” He looks away from Steve and grins at the ceiling.

Steve lets that repeat in his head, and it keeps repeating. His chest feels tight and his face is hot, shit he knows he’s blushing. He shakes his head, hoping the thoughts will just fly out. “No, no, no. I-I’m just-I didn’t mean to like, stare at you, I was thinking and I just-“ he is falling over his words, he isn’t even sure how he’s talking, the only thing he can hear right now is Eddie’s voice still echoing in the back of his mind.

A big smile spreads on Eddie’s face slowly, he’s the one staring now. “I was joking, jesus.” He chuckles lightly.

Steve starts to feel a little more relaxed, but he still feels like he’s…drunk? high? dreaming? He turns his head again and locks eyes with Eddie, the second he does his heart flips again and he makes a note to see a fucking doctor.

Neither of them say anything for a second, it feels like a lot longer to Steve. He’s never felt this self conscious before. He’s so aware of how much space is between he and Eddie, it’s less than a foot, and Steve can suddenly feel the heat coming from the boy next to him. He starts to wonder seriously if maybe he is dreaming, and then he finally pulls his eyes away from Eddie’s to the clock on Eddie’s dresser. “Holy shit, it’s late.” He says sitting up, “I completely forgot I have to work in the morning. I better go.”

Eddie sits up too and watches as Steve stands up and grabs his jacket off of the bed frame. “Lame.” He says, standing up to follow Steve out. “but responsible.”

When they say goodbye, Steve keeps thinking he’s forgetting something. He’s checked his pockets like ten times, he knows he’s good, what is he missing? He realizes as he’s walking to his car that he just doesn’t really want to leave, he wants to stay. He wants to keep listening to records and he wants to keep laying next to Eddie.

When he starts driving away, he glances back he notices Eddie, still leaning against his doorframe, still watching Steve. That’s when Steve starts hearing Eddie’s stupid joke playing in his head again.

And he hears it over and over and over, the rest of the night. He hears it when he drives home, he hears it when he showers, as he brushes his teeth, and it’s the loudest when he tries to sleep. He tosses and turns for hours, unable to stop replaying the night in his head, unable to think about anything but Eddie Munson. Usually he’d be grateful for a night with no flashes of monsters and death in his mind, but tonight he thinks he might prefer it.

Around 2am he sits up, throws his blanket to the side in frustration and just sits on the side of his bed for a minute. He debates going downstairs and just waiting out the next few hours until he has to go to work. He thinks about taking a walk, maybe that would clear his head? He’s way too tired for that though.

He just sighs and puts his head in his hands, he decides the only thing he can do right now is face it.

“If i didn’t know better, I’d say you have a crush on me, Harrington.”

He thinks about it one more time. He asks himself why is he feeling the same way he felt the first time he liked a girl, why was he as nervous at Eddie’s house as he was on his very first date? Why did his heart flip when Eddie smiled at him the same way it used to for Nancy?

Because that’s the thing, six months ago Steve was planning this big life in his head with Nancy. He was in love with her, he was attracted to her, he liked her. He doesn’t like Eddie. -Not like that.

Steve Harrington isn’t gay, he knows that. He knows that because he still thinks Nancy is beautiful, he thinks Robin is beautiful, he’s attracted to girls. Steve loves girls, he likes their long hair, he likes their soft lips, he likes boobs. If Steve knows anything, he knows he likes boobs.

Eventually he talks himself down enough to lay back down. He likes girls. He doesn’t even know why he was acting like that now, he feels like an idiot.

So, of course his heart wasn’t doing flips because he likes Eddie. He was tired, he was distracted, and it was his first time one on one with his new friend. He was just a little nervous? Yeah, no, he was just a little nervous. He likes girls. He didn’t think that when Eddie smiles the world feels brighter, and he definitely didn’t notice that Eddie’s hand accidentally brushed against his when they were talking, and he never even thought about how those brown eyes would just light up when Eddie got excited.

Steve likes girls. He likes girls with long, wild hair, he likes girls with big brown eyes, he likes girls with soft lips, he likes girls with tattoos, he likes girls with ripped jeans, he likes girls who play weird dorky games, he likes girls who listen to heavy metal, he likes girls who look at him for a little too long while they lay on the floor together. Steve likes girls.

And that’s what he tells himself the rest of the night, but the rest of the night only lasts a minute or two before he finally falls into a peaceful sleep.

He wishes. Instead he’s tossed right back into Eddie’s room, the faint sounds of guitars and laughter fill the space, brown eyes on him again. Maybe it is a little peaceful, until he hears his alarm.

He wakes up, the room finally bright again, he barely recognizes it after spending so long tossing and turning in the dark last night. He sits up and shuts his alarm off, he sleepily makes his way to the bathroom and somewhere between brushing his teeth and getting dressed he remembers his dream. He just remembers flashes, bits and pieces. He remembers Eddie. He tells himself it’s not a big deal, even though something in him is begging to disagree.

He ends up being a couple minutes late, and when he gets in he expects to hear Robin giving him shit about it, but instead he hears “What happened?”

He furrows his brow and looks at Robin, who is giving him a look for some reason. “Hmm?” he barely had the energy for that reply, but he makes his way in and throws his jacket on the counter as he gets the rest of his things ready.

“You look awful, Harrington.” Robin says from behind him, “Are you sick?”

Steve blinks, and turns to face her. “Actually, you know what?” He laughs a little, and Robin gives him a concerned look. “Yeah, maybe. Maybe.” It all makes sense, that’s gotta be it. He’s sick. He’s coming down with something and he’s just getting confused because he’s sick. He’s just sick. “You know, that would explain it. I’ve been feeling so weird.”

Robin frowns a little, “Do you need to go home? What’s wrong? fever? Chills? Headache? You know, I was reading this magazine with Nancy last night and it said that you could cure almost anything with tea-“

“I’m good, I’m good.” Steve smiles, cutting Robin off. “I don’t feel sick, but no like I’m probably about to be sick or something.” He rationalizes out loud. “I barely slept, I was up all night.”

Robin gives him a weird look, “Wait, you don’t feel sick? Why were you up all night?”

Shit. Now he doesn’t know what to say, he usually finds it hard to lie to Robin. Steve thinks her habit of oversharing must be contagious. He opens his mouth to reply, but closes it and just kinda shrugs. But she’s still looking at him, confused. “I was just…I couldn’t sleep.”

“Yeah?” She looks him over for a second before going back to her stack of returned VHS tapes she’s sorting through, without looking up she asks “How long did you stay at Eddie’s after Nance and I left?”

Steve looks at her out of the corner of his eye for a second, “I was there a while, I dunno.” He says quietly, pretending to be reading the cover of the movie in his hands. “I uh, I ended up listening to records with Eddie for a few hours.”

“A few hours?” Robin looks at him again, “With, like- you and Eddie alone?”

He doesn’t know what to say, or why Robin is asking like that. He’s had enough of confusion and questions in the past how every many hours, he just looks at Robin for a second, takes a breath as if he’s gonna say something and decides against it again, instead he simply walks away with the VHS still in his hands. He doesn’t even know what it is, he glances down and reads the title for real this time. It goes on the other side of the store, he turns and pretends he doesn’t notice Robin following him.

“Like just the two of you?” She asks again, on his heels. “Have you ever even been alone before?

He puts the tape away and sighs. “Yeah, we were alone. I don’t see why that’s a big deal.” He crosses his arms.

“What?” She scoffs. “It’s not, it’s just you guys are kind of…” She trails off and Steve raises an eye brow at her, “opposites.” she finishes.

Steve relaxes, he doesn’t know why he got so nervous. He doesn’t know why he thinks that Robin would think…-okay, he’s overthinking things. “I don’t know, he’s cool.” He shrugs, avoiding looking at Robin. “I guess we’re friends now.”

Robin nods slowly. “Just when I thought I’d seen it all, King Steve listening to heavy metal with the town weirdo.” She snorts softly. “Now that’s something.”

He rolls his eyes. “Let’s just do our jobs for once, okay?”

The rest of their shift goes by completely normally, it’s a slow day, there’s not a ton to do and they’re just about finished for the day so they have time to sit around and talk. Steve is thankful for the downtime, he is exhausted and all he can think about is going home and going to sleep.

He’s doing his best to not doze off right now, sitting on the counter and talking to Robin as she organizes the candy for probably the tenth time today. She’s rambling, and it’s comforting even if Steve isn’t paying close attention.

The bell chimes from the door and Steve begrudgingly slides off the counter out of habit, he goes to turn to greet whoever came in when he hears a familiar “Hey, Harrington.” and his heart does that thing again.

He blinks a few times and keeps thinking he’s going to respond but doesn’t. He’s thought about Eddie so much these past how ever many hours that he’s not even sure if Eddie is really here or if he’s just hallucinating. But then Eddie adds, “Buckley, my lady.” with a small, dorky bow.

Robin laughs and rolls her eyes, “Thank god you showed up, it’s slow as shit and I don’t know what you did to Steve last night but he’s been falling asleep for the past half an hour.”

Steve tries so hard to say anything before Eddie can, he already knows there’s going to be some kind of retort, but Steve’s too slow.

“Sounds like I wore you out, huh big boy?” Eddie smirks and looks up at Steve as he leans his forearms against the counter.

Steve’s chest feels like his heart might just burst out of it, it’s beating so fast. “Yeah, whatever.” He rolls his eyes, wiping his palms on his pants absentmindedly, why are they sweaty? He’s sick. He’s for sure sick. “What brings you in, Munson?”

“Well I’d like to say I just missed you nerds, but believe it or not I need a movie.” He taps his knuckles on the counter quickly. “Got a date, recommend something, Steve.”

“A date?” Robin and Steve say at the same time, but with differing tones. Robin sounds interested, Steve sounds shocked.

“Oh, is that such a surprise?” Eddie rolls his eyes and makes his way to the first rack of movies he sees.

“Kinda?” Steve admits, turning to follow Eddie. “You should have Robin recommend something, she’d be better at knowing what girls like.”

Eddie looks at Steve for a second and Steve knows there’s a reason for this look, but he’s unable to figure out what it is. “Probably so.” Eddie says slowly, “But hey, you’re ‘The Hair’, I know you’ve got moves.”

“Yeah, I guess.” He shrugs. He looks around for Robin and notices she’d stayed behind at the counter, he also sees that she’s been watching them. Steve takes note of that but keeps talking to Eddie, he tries to hide that his hands are shaky while he gives suggestions.

They walk and talk around the store, it feels easy but it’s not. Not for Steve at least, he feels like his brain is running on empty. After a handful of recommendations, Eddie is reading the back of a case and Steve can’t stop himself from asking “So who’s the girl?” he asks quietly, and he’s not sure why.

Eddie looks at him, “What?”

Steve attempts a small smile, “Your date?”

“Oh,” Eddie blows out a laugh, but pauses, he looks at Steve for a second and now Steve feels like maybe he’s the one with answers on his face this time because Eddie has this look, and Steve can tell he wants to say something.

Steve doesn’t break eye contact though, even though his brain is begging him to stop looking at Eddie, he can’t. He isn’t sure why his eyes betray him this way, but he glances at Eddie’s mouth for a second and he nearly falls over when it hits him. He kinda wants…maybe- no. Steve likes girls.

“How’s the movie search going?” Robin asks, and Steve isn’t sure when she got so close.

Eddie looks at her as if he wasn’t just looking right into Steve’s soul, he smiles “Harrington here has been a delight, you should give him a raise.”

“If i had that power, I would use it to fire him for standing around and flirting with the customers all day.” Robin says,

“Oh my god.” Steve mutters, rolls his eyes and heads for the counter. “I’ll be over here, working, if you two wanna keep doing…this.” He takes a stack of movies and wishes he knew what they were for but he’s gotten pretty good at just looking like he’s working today.

Robin and Eddie stay behind, chatting. Steve tries his hardest to not listen, he’s not sure why he cares. He doesn’t care. There’s nothing to care or not care about. He does a good job at minding his business at first.

“So did you pick a movie for your date?” is all Robin says, but just the word date is enough to get Steve’s attention. But, he doesn’t care. He’s screaming in his head to stop listening, but doesn’t.

“Yeah, but movie nights aren’t really about the movie, right?” Eddie says and Steve doesn’t look but he can hear his smirk. “Mostly background noise.”

Steve feels a new feeling he can’t name. It doesn’t feel like it did last night anymore. Last night was weird, but it felt better than this. This unidentified feeling feels…bad. His heart is still beating like crazy, but not quite like it was. No, now he feels kind of like he’s mad. Why is he mad? Jealous? He feels kind of jealous. No. Steve decided that’s crazy, forces himself to stop listening and just takes a breath. He’s losing it.

He gets out of his head just in time to see Eddie and Robin heading back to the counter, he reminds himself to act normal but already knows he’ll fail.

“Alright, Harrington. I’m going to listen to you but if this movie sucks i’m never taking your advice again.” He puts the movie down and Robin takes care of the rest.

Steve leans on the counter behind Robin, facing Eddie. “Listen, just rewind it before you bring it back, ‘kay?”

“Whatever you say, big boy.” Eddie says, before grabbing the movie. “Tell you what, if it doesn’t suck, you can suggest another movie and we’ll watch it together, make a night of it.”

Steve can feel his face go red. He knows Eddie did not mean it like that, he knows that. He still can’t stop the images that spark throughout his brain. He can’t help but think about how a night like that might go. He takes a shaky breath, “Yeah-“ his voice is too high, he clears his throat a little. “yeah, no movie night sounds fun.” He glances over to Robin, who is a little wide eyed and Steve can tell she’s dying to say something but she can’t. “Movie night?” He says, a little quickly, nodding. “We sh-should do a movie night with like, all of us one night. That-that could be fun?” He says, putting a hand on his hip, and he’s not sure how to stop stumbling over his words and he’s also not sure why he’s only looking at Robin now. He’s spent this whole time nearly unable to tear his eyes away from Eddie, but now he can’t get himself to look at him. “Hmm?” He adds because Robin is still silent.

She nods, “No, yeah. That would be super fun!” She says, but Steve sees her wheels turning and he desperately wants to stop them for a second because he can tell she’s about to do something. “Oh, but like, I’ve been so busy with, stuff. and Jonathan and Nancy are…you know they’re in love and they do stuff-together i mean, they spend a lot of time together, as a couple. And you know, I think if it takes us a while to find a good time you and Eddie should solo it…i guess it’s not solo if it’s together but, you could be like, alone together, kind of poetic.” She smiles. “Just saying, you know since everyone’s so busy right now, maybe you guys should go ahead.”

Steve looks at Robin with a please oh my god stop look, “Yeah.” is all he can get out.

Eddie smirks and looks between them. “Alright, I’m out of here, kids.”

“Have fun.” Robin calls out as Eddie walks toward the door.

“Always.” Eddie replies, “Later, Harrington.”

Steve can only bring himself to wave. When Eddie leaves, Steve waits about one second, looks around the store, walks over and locks the door.

“We are not closed.” Robin says, “And I don’t think closing the store is good for business.”

“What is going on?” Steve says, feeling like he’s finally cracking. “I-I mean, like all night right? Like I was up all night, and then when I finally did sleep? Guess what? That was all…messed up too. Like, I think there’s something going on.” He turns to Robin, he can tell he looks a little crazy, and his arms are swinging as he talks with his hands, “So I wake up, I go to work, and like… today?”

“I am gonna need some kind of context, or a clue, Steve.” Robin says and then glances at the door. “Oh, duh.” She adds, mostly under her breath.

“No,” Steve shakes his head, wondering if she can see into it. “whatever you’re thinking no, no.” He turns to unlock the door but stops, “That was weird, right?”

“What? You locking the door and saying gibberish?” She asks, walking past him to unlock it herself. “Yeah, a little weird.”

“You know what I’m talking about, Robin.” He says, a little louder than he meant to. “Like that whole thing at the end?” He crosses his arms, “Since when is everyone I know too busy to hang out? I saw you all yesterday!”

“I know, but I thought maybe you and Eddie should spend some more time together, you know? He said he had a great time last night, and I think you did too.”

Steve can’t stop himself, “He said he had a good time?”

“A great time.” Robin repeats with a smirk. “So?”

“I’m not-“ he starts and suddenly his throat is dry, he shakes his head a little. “I’m not-“ He tries again and fails. Robin is waiting, Steve can tell she’s gonna try to let him talk. But he’s not sure if he can. “I don’t-…”

“Shh.” She presses a finger to his lips, “you have been a crazy man today, Steve.” She walks back to the counter and sits on top of it. “Look, if you wanna talk about whatever is going on, I am here to listen, and if you want to never speak of it, well, i’ll just talk enough for both of us, yeah?”

He nods. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s going on.” He leans on the counter next to her. “I just, I guess like…” he trails off, and looks at her, “I don’t wanna talk.” He admits, and even he can hear how pathetic he sounds right now.

“Good, my turn.” She smiles and Steve hopes she knows how thankful he is.

He goes about the next two days as well as he can, no one has noticed that he’s been avoiding pretty much everything yet. He goes to work, he does what he needs to and he goes home. And for two days that worked, but Dustin called and asked if he wanted to go do something so Steve picked him up, and they went out for lunch and hung around Hawkins, killing time in the few stores that had rebuilt already. It was nice, and Steve felt more relaxed than he had in days.

Until on the drive to drop Dustin back off at home, Dustin suddenly says “Shit, I forgot, could you drop me off at Eddie’s?”

The request takes Steve by surprise for no reason, he does this all the time. It’s a normal thing, why would Steve care? He doesn’t. Sure, he’s been avoiding Eddie like the plague for reasons that aren’t entirely even clear to himself but this is fine. It’s fine. “Eddie’s?”

“Yeah, I almost forgot, I got a few new comics that he and I were talking about so-“

“Yeah, no, I mean, yeah I can take you to Eddie’s.” Steve nods and thinks he manages to sound mostly normal, “like his place?”

“Yes.” Dustin answers slowly. “Did you hit your head? You’ve been so weird.”

“You’re weird.” Steve retorts but there’s nothing in his voice to back it up. “I haven’t been weird.”

“You’ve been weird, even weirder than usual.”

Steve scoffs, and they ride in silence for a minute. He doesn’t want to go to Eddie’s, he knows it’ll be fast, he’s just dropping Dustin off. But if he sees Eddie, he’s going to think about Eddie, and he’s going to think about Eddie’s date and then he’s gonna only think about all of that for the rest of the night. But now he’s already thinking it, and he can’t stop. They’re nearly there when Steve blurts out “Does Eddie have a girlfriend?”

Dustin looks a little surprised, “I don’t think so.” He says. “Eddie doesn’t really talk about girls.”

Steve nods. “Right, I was just wondering cause like, if he doesn’t…maybe I’ll set him up with someone, you know?” He hopes the lie at least makes sense, but judging by the look on Dustin’s face it doesn’t. “Like I-I figured, since we’re friends now and-“

“You’re friends?” Dustin asks, looking suspicious.

“Yeah,” Steve says, glancing over at Dustin, “is that cool?”

Dustin smiles and nods, “It’s very cool. I told you that you’d like him.”

Steve sighs, “You were right, okay?” He looks over at Dustin and things feel like they make sense again, for the first time in weeks, in months. Maybe years? “I do like him.” Steve says, but when he says it out loud it all kind of just hits him.

He does like him. He likes Eddie. He likes Eddie. He likes Eddie? All those feelings come flooding in, he starts to panic but this is not the time. Not only is Dustin smiling next to him in the passenger seat, but he’s also literally pulling into Eddie’s. His hands are shaking and feel a little numb when he stops the car, his ears are ringing and his chest is tight. He hears Dustin in the distance, but quickly realizes he’s still in the car with him.

“Steve?” Dustin says, again and Steve blinks back to reality. His eyes oddly damp, and his face a shade too red. “Steve?”

“Yeah?” He says, not looking away from the steering wheel. “Yeah. Sorry, I just remembered I-“ he stops, shaking his head a little. He smiles at Dustin before pulling him into a hug. “I just remembered that I should never doubt you.”

“Jesus, dude-“ Dustin pushes him off, “seriously, you are so weird.”

Steve laughs. “Have fun, don’t do anything stupid.” He says as Dustin gets out.

Dustin goes to say something but is cut off, no. Not now. “Harrington!”

Steve freezes, mouth open slightly, he looks at Dustin as he runs toward Eddie. Steve sighs, he thinks quickly about just absolutely gunning it. He could be gone in thirty seconds, he doesn’t even have to stop driving. He can just leave, run away, never talk to anyone again, change his name, start a new life- he opens the car door and takes a breath, when get gets out he feels like his legs are jello, and he stumbles a little before leaning on his car. “H-hey, uh I-“ He stops, seeing Eddie is too much right now. Steve likes him. He’s trying so hard to act normal, how does he act normal? He likes Eddie.

“You got a while? We’re gonna read comics and hang, you’re invited.” Eddie says, and it’s so casual. Steve doesn’t feel casual.

“No, no, I would, but I-I’m going to Robin’s so-“ he absolutely had no plans with Robin, but he decided before he even got out of the car that he was definitely going to her house as soon as he left here, he’s not even sure if she’s home. He doesn’t care, he’ll wait. “thanks though.” He attempts a smile, but he worries he looks more pained.

“Cool, maybe next time.” Eddie waves, Steve nods and goes to get back in the car, “Oh,” Eddie stops, and looks back at Steve. “The flick? It was good, Harrington. Movie night soon, yeah?”

Steve feels like he could scream, this is a lot for him to take at once. But when he actually goes to reply, his voice gets stuck in his throat and he can just sort of nod like an idiot for a second before choking out a quick “Yeah, yeah, absolutely.” He clears his throat, “Sounds good.”

Eddie smiles, and it’s so bright and warm and intoxicating. “It’s a date.”

Steve���s breath catches and he isn’t sure what the right response is. He is freaking out, he needs to get to Robin’s. He barely chokes out “I-uh, Robin-“ before he just decides he’s had enough, waves again, gets in his car and heads out.

The whole way to Robin’s, Steve keeps replaying the other night at Eddie’s in his head, but his whole perspective has changed. He has the questions now, he has names for these feelings, he has words for these thoughts.

He likes Eddie. But, Steve likes girls. How can that happen? Can he like both? Can he just like, make an exception?

He keeps trying to tell himself that maybe he’s losing it, and he’s making this up in his head. He thinks maybe he’s just confused, or sick, or tired, or something. Because he can’t like Eddie, right?

But then he thinks of the other night, and how maybe when Eddie’s hand brushed his, it wasn’t an accident. He thinks about how he couldn’t stop staring at Eddie because he didn’t want to, he wants to stare at him. He wants to look at his hair, and his eyes, and his body. He really wants to look at his body. Steve tries to hit the brakes on that thought, but can’t stop it. He wants to touch Eddie, he wants to feel his hair, he knows it’s soft. He wants Eddie’s hand to brush against his again, he wants it to stay there. He wants more.

He gets to Robin’s and wastes no time, barely remembering to shut the car door behind him before he darts to Robin’s front door. He knocks and things finally work out for once, she’s home and she answers. “Steve?” Her smile fades quickly when she looks at him, “Uh, you good? Did you run here?”

“What?” He realizes now that he seems a little out of breath, “No, no. I need to talk to you.”

“Everything okay?” She asks, her brow furrowed, “Is everybody okay?”

“Everyone is good, it’s me-I’m fine, but-“ he sighs and takes a quick look around, “I can’t talk about this here.”

“Lucky for you my parents aren’t home, I’m not supposed to have boys in my room.”

Steve chuckles a little as he goes inside and follows her to her room. Once they’re in Steve realizes he doesn’t even know where to start. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t even know if he should say anything.

What if he’s crazy and this is just like, something that’ll go away in a few days? What if this is all made up in his head and he doesn’t actually feel these feelings.

But it felt real, it felt real when they were sitting in Eddie’s room laughing together, it felt real when they were laying on his floor listening to records, it felt real when Eddie smiled at him. Steve tries his best to tell himself maybe it’s not real. But it is. He knows it is. He’s just stuck in this loop of uncertainty and he doesn’t know how to get out. He knows talking to Robin will help, that’s why he came over. He needs to say something, but where does he even begin? He isn’t sure where any of this began. One day he barely knew Eddie, and all of a sudden, they’re friends and Steve likes him?

Robin sits on her bed and looks up at him, Steve starts fidgeting with his hands and isn’t sure if he wants to sit or not. He feels restless. “So what’s going on?” Robin asks, calmly. “This isn’t like a spooky monster or government secret thing, right?”

“No,” Steve waves a hand dismissively. “Nothing like that, it’s…it’s personal.” Steve starts pacing just a little. “Like I’m physically fine but my brain is-“

“I mean everyone knows you’ve been acting weird this week.” Robin says, bluntly. Steve gives her a quick look of annoyance before she continues. “What’s going on? Is it like, girl troubles?” Robin raises her eyebrows.

“Robin,” He groans, -he knows he can tell her. Why can’t he tell her? He doesn’t think he has the guts to say this out loud. “Not exactly.” He says it slow, looking at her nervously.

“It’s not about Nancy, is it?” She asks, sitting up a little straighter. Steve can tell she’s fighting a smirk, she’s doing a good job of it but Steve can still tell.

“Oh my god.” Steve mutters. “Absolutely not, no. I told you, that’s over.” He runs a hand through his hair, “It’s not Nancy.”

Robin just stares at him for a second, waiting. Steve just holds her stare and she gives in, “Okay! So, what?” She throws her hands up a little, “This is about whatever has been making you crazy, right?”

Steve nods, and makes a noncommittal noise.

“So what is it, Harrington?”

Steve takes a breath and turns to fully face Robin again, “Look, whatever I say next stays between us, right? Like, no one else can know.”

Robin leans forward a little, “Of course, come on. We both have secrets.” She reminds him and it makes him feel better for a minute.

He drags a hand across his face and starts, “I-“ he stops, not sure what to say, not sure if he should even say anything, not sure if he should tell Robin everything, tell her that he’s having a breakdown because he thinks he likes boys, but he knows he likes girls, and that even if that wasn’t an issue, Eddie? Why Eddie? And can he even tell Robin that? Would that make all the times they hang out weird? But, he can’t bring himself to care as much as maybe he should. He knows he wants to tell her, he just doesn’t know how. He puts his hands on his hips, thinking it over for a second. He still has to say something, “Okay, look so, I like-“ he stops again, trying to choose his words carefully, “someone.” he finally says.

“Yeah?” She smiles, before gasping a little. “Love sick!” she says, pointing at him for a second. “That’s what was going on the other day, Steve.”

He rolls his eyes, “No, it’s not like-“ he scoffs, “I just, you know, I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Well, who is she?”

Steve feels his heart drop a little, this is the part he isn’t sure he can admit. Not only to Robin, but just out loud. He thinks about just making up a girls name and forgetting all of this.

But he can’t, because his brain has been caught on a loop of the past week. Eddie’s house, the video store, Eddie having a date, feelings having no names, he thinks of the heavy metal that was playing in the background and how he could barely hear it over his own heart pounding in his ears. He can’t fight it, he’s tried. He’s powerless.

“Robin,” He starts, weakly, leaning against her wall. His heart is beating fast again, and he can hardly bring himself to look at her, his eyes are wet now and he doesn’t know why. “This isn’t about a girl.” He admits, and he hopes she gets it.

She blinks at him a couple times and he can see that she’s thinking her next few words over carefully, something she actually does well for occasions like this. “Okay,” She nods, slowly, looking at Steve like he might break if she moves too quick. He doesn’t like it, but he can tell she’s just trying to keep him calm for this. “You like someone.” She starts, and looks up at Steve.

He nods and doesn’t say anything because he knows he can’t right now, he does not want to cry about this.

“And it’s not a girl?”

Steve swallows and shakes his head, “Nope.” He finally chokes out. “I, uh, I like…” He looks at Robin, he tries to stop himself, but he can’t. He knows this could mess everything up, but he feels like maybe he should tell her everything. It felt good to tell her part of it. Mostly, he just doesn’t want to be alone with these thoughts anymore. He sighs, sliding down the wall and sitting on the floor. “I’ve been losing my mind, Robin.” He admits, his voice low. He feels himself losing the fight he’s been having in his own head, if he doesn’t get this over with he’s going to explode. He can trust Robin, he reminds himself before taking a breath and starting again. “The other night, I couldn’t sleep, I was up nearly the whole night thinking about him, right? And then I-I finally fall asleep and I fucking dream about him, I kept thinking about everything, I kept going over the whole night, you know? We talked, we listened to music, but the whole time I could barely pay attention to anything, I didn’t care about any of it. I just wanted be around him. And then, like, he says stuff that I know is a joke, but god, it still just…” He trails off and checks to see if Robin’s going to say anything, he’s sure she’s probably dying to ask questions or say something.

But Robin is just watching him, with somewhat concerned eyes, and just waiting for him to finish. She gives a small nod encouragingly when she notices him looking at her.

Steve looks away and sighs, “Robin, I like him.” His voice breaks again, just slightly. “I like him so much.”

“I know,” She says, nodding. “And that’s okay!”

Steve scoffs. “I can’t like him.”

“Why not?” Robin throws her hands up, “You can so like him.”

“I can’t like him.” He repeats, shaking his head. “For starters, I still like girls so-“

Robin gives him a puzzled look, “Steve,” she laughs softly, “You can like girls and like guys too!”

Steve just looked at her. “Are you serious?” He asks, sitting up away from the wall a little.

Robin looks at him for a second, smiling. “Yeah, Harrington. You can like whoever, you don’t have to pick guys or girls.”

“Shit.” He says, blinking and resting his head against the wall. “I thought I was like…the only one.”

Robin rolls her eyes, “Sorry, you’re not special.” She smiles, “You’re just bisexual.”

“Oh, huh.” Steve looks down, he lets it soak in for a second. This whole time he thought this was something wrong with him but it has a name. He can just like whoever he likes. He chuckles a bit, feeling a little embarrassed for freaking out about it. “Learned something new, I guess.”

“It’s not like you could have known. Look around this town, not a lot of people like us.” She says shrugging. “But welcome aboard, glad to have you. “

“Yeah, thanks.” Steve rolls his eyes. “That solves that but like, what do I do?”

“Well, technically you still haven’t told me who this is.” Robin says, grinning.

Steve glares at her for a second, “Robin, don’t make me say it.” He whines a little.

“How can I help if I don’t know who it is?”

Steve closes his eyes and presses his palms to his face for a second. “Robin, oh my god.”

She tries to hide laughter, but isn’t very successful. “it could be anybody!”

“Fine, fine!” Steve throws his hands up in defeat and looks at her, she is absolutely radiating excitement and he hates how endearing it is. “Eddie.” He says, but as quietly as possible. It still feels awkward to say out loud.

“Hmm?” Robin puts her hand to her ear, “I didn’t catch that?”

“Eddie!” Steve shouts a little, tossing his head back in defeat. “I like Eddie.” He admits and another weight floats off of him. “I really fucking like Eddie.” And now he feels like he kind of wants to keep saying it, it’s therapeutic after days of bottling things up and keeping secrets from himself.

Robin sits up on her knees, “I knew it! I knew it! I-I’ve known it for months!” She says excitedly.

Steve sits up straighter, “I’ve only known for like, an hour. How could you have known for months?”

“Oh, please.” She rolls her eyes, “It’s so obvious you guys like each other, all you do is stare and flirt. It’s pathetic!”

Steve’s whole body feels hot, he feels sick, but he feels almost hopeful. “He-no. You’re so wrong, there’s no way-“ he shakes his head. “You’re crazy, he doesn’t- he likes girls.”

“Steve, you like girls.”

Steve’s eyebrows go up and he nods a little, “That’s fair.”

“And how do you know? How do you know he doesn’t like you?”

“Why would he like me?” Steve shrugs, “Like we have almost nothing in common, you know?”

“So? He liked hanging out with you. If you guys are so incompatible, why would he want to hang out with you? Alone?”

Steve sighs, “There’s no way.” He says again, seriously. “And we don’t-we don’t stare at each other.”

“Yes, you do! All the time! Just like, get a room, oh my god. It’s disgusting.”

Steve laughs and for the first time he can breathe. He feels okay. He thinks maybe this won’t be so bad. Maybe he can just navigate this crush and somehow keep things together. But eventually he realizes he can’t just stay here in Robin’s room forever, and sooner or later he’s going to see Eddie again, they’re going to hang out and Steve is going to have to pretend that he isn’t hopelessly obsessed with him.

He and Robin talk for a while, and things start to settle for the night. It feels weird to just keep going through life after this. He’s supposed to just go home and go to bed after it feels like his whole world has flipped? He realizes he’s fucking head over heels for someone and he’s supposed to just act like he’s not?

It’s quiet for a minute and he and Robin are sitting across from each other on the bed, both lost in thought. He glances at her, “What do I do now?”

She looks like she thinks it over for a minute, before taking a breath, “You could go to his house, tell him how you feel and make out the rest of the night.” She looks at him and gives a small shrug, “That’s an option.”

Steve’s breathing gets a little shaky, that was definitely not something he’d considered. He tries to stop thinking about it, but he wants to. He shakes his head, “No, that’s not happening. I’m not gonna tell him.”

“Well maybe see if he wants to hang out, then you could kind of get a feel for things. Maybe you’ll see that he does like you and you can just see what happens.” She suggests and Steve doesn’t hate this idea.

He thinks it over, another night alone with Eddie, another night where Steve would get his full attention, another night where Steve could lay way too close next to him, a night where Eddie might let his fingers linger against Steve’s again. Steve nearly feels lightheaded just thinking about it. “Maybe.”

“Hey, he was just talking about a movie night, right?”

Steve’s eyes snap shut and he puts his head in his hands, “Oh my god.”

“Okay, so maybe not-“

“No, yeah. He just…when i dropped Dustin off he actually asked about that.” He looks at Robin a little nervously, he can feel his face going red. “I said sure, he said it’s a date, and I just-“ Steve makes a motion with his hand, “got the hell outta there, I came straight here.”

“Oh.” Robin says, “Even better, sounds like you already have plans!” Steve worries her face is going to get stuck with this excited smile she has.

“I don’t want to,” Steve sighs, nerves building already just thinking about it. “but yeah, i’ll try, okay?”

“That’s the spirit!”

The next few days, Steve tries his best to be cool. He’s not freaking out like he was, he knows better now. He knows more now. That doesn’t mean he feels quite like himself still. He’s still overthinking and over tired, the last few nights unfortunately have become dedicated to Steve just thinking about Eddie and all the different ways this could go, he’s played out every scenario. He doesn’t know what to expect, but he wants to be prepared for anything.

And yet, he finds himself very unprepared for Eddie’s voice coming through the line when Steve absentmindedly answers his phone while going through the mail. But the increasingly familiar “Harrington!” chimes in Steve’s ear and he drops the stack of envelopes he was holding.

Steve fumbles through the whole phone call, but keeps it together just enough to get by with using the mess he made as an excuse. He knows Eddie called for something, but he’s just kind of been rambling for five minutes and Steve starts to wonder if he might be a little nervous too. He also realizes that he has never given Eddie his phone number, he smiles a little to himself when he thinks that Eddie would have had to ask someone to give him Steve’s number, so he kind of went out of his way to call him.

“Anyway,” Eddie says, slowing down. “Look, you coming over tonight or what?”

Steve’s body does that tingly thing again, and his face is burning. He tries to respond but his words are stuck. He clears his throat and tries again. “Yeah, okay.” is all he mages to get out. It wouldn’t have mattered if he tried, he can’t tell Eddie no.

He hears Eddie laugh softly, and it’s basically the last thing he hears because he’s got a thousand thoughts running through his mind and he’s trying to sort through them. When he hangs up, he immediately calls Robin.

He does a double check to make sure he’s still home alone before she answers, “Hello?”

“What are you doing tonight?” He asks, quickly, skipping the greetings. He doesn’t really mean too, but his brain is moving too fast.

“Hello, Steve.” She says, huffing into the phone slightly. “I’m picking up a shift at the store tonight, why?”

“Okay, okay so no one else is going to Eddie’s?”

“No, everyone’s busy.” Steve can hear her smile through the phone, he knows she feels so smug.

He sighs, “Great.”

“You’ll be fine! You’ll have fun!” She reassures him, “Just relax.”

Steve tries to take that advice but he spends the rest of the afternoon doing anything but relaxing.

The last few days have dragged on so slowly, but today flies by, and he hates it. It’s all a blur of nerves, he spent 30 minutes just looking at the clothes in his closet. He didn’t even know why, but he just went back and forth between three different shirts before he realized he was taking forever and felt stupid for caring this much. After he gets dressed, he thinks that maybe he has done this before, once or twice before he’s gone to hang out with Eddie. He knows he changed twice before he went the other day, he couldn’t figure out why then, he figured he was just having an off day and brushed it aside. He feels like an idiot now.

He can barely drag himself to his car when it’s time to leave, he wants to go, but he also wants to just disappear. He’s unbearably nervous, and he circles the block once before he feels like he has enough courage to finally head in the right direction.

When Steve gets to Eddie’s door he pauses, he suddenly thinks about every scenario he played out last night. He thinks about the different outcomes, he weighs the pros and cons of knocking.

But before he can, the door swings open, “Harrington!” Eddie smiles before pulling Steve in gently by the wrist.

Steve feels like he would probably follow Eddie anywhere if he kept his hand wrapped close by his. “H-hey!” Steve wishes he was better at acting normal by now.

“Okay, you made it, so-“ Eddie let’s go of Steve’s arm and claps his hands together. He starts talking, going on about his ideas for the night, and Steve is listening but it’s difficult.

He’s trying so hard to think everything through, he doesn’t want to make a wrong move. He doesn’t want to be obvious, and he’s so worried he’s going to slip up and just say something fucking stupid.

Because every time he tried to play out all those different versions of tonight, he kept saying something stupid. He just doesn’t know how to not say something stupid.

After they settle in with some beers and a movie, it gets increasingly harder for Steve to focus on, well anything.

He’s basically missed the entire first half of this movie, instead he keeps taking too long and too frequent glances over to Eddie, who is sitting just a little too close to him, which is a major factor in Steve’s lack of focus. He keeps forgetting to focus on not slipping up, too. Once he and Eddie start talking, he can’t help himself. It’s just so easy that he forgets it’s supposed to be difficult.

When they’re talking, or even when they’re just in a comfortable silence, Steve forgets that Eddie doesn’t know, he forgets that Eddie doesn’t like him, he forgets that he’s worried about any of it. He’s just focused on Eddie, and that’s all that really matters.

Steve starts to realize that maybe the beer hasn’t helped him act normal, and that maybe that wasn’t his smartest move. But, he thinks he’s doing okay. Yeah, he’s still risking far too many glances Eddie’s way for it to not be weird, but he doesn’t think he’s been super obvious about it.

And yes, this time he’s staring again and he’s telling himself to stop, but somehow he just ends up resting his head on his hand and completely losing thought.

He doesn’t know why he thinks he’d get away this this, he hadn’t before. And just like last time, he gets caught. “You better stop looking at me like that, Harrington.” Eddie says, slow and quiet. He turns his head to face Steve. “You’re gonna give me ideas.”

Steve’s mouth goes dry and his heart is pounding in his ears, he thinks of a hundred lame excuses at once but can only manage a “hmm?”, hoping playing dumb would just work out for him.

Eddie rolls his eyes, “What’s on your mind? You’ve been looking at me for like five minutes.” he sits back and rests his own arm on the back of the couch, his body facing Steve’s. “I’m all ears, Harrington.”

Steve tries to blow out a laugh to seem casual, but feels like maybe it just makes him look more suspicious, “I-I haven’t been-“

“Steve,” Eddie raises his eyebrows. “Come on.”

Steve can’t help the small smile that spreads across his face, even though he feels absolutely crazy. He tries to think carefully and quickly about what to say, thinking about all the stupid stuff he wants to say and making sure none of that leave his lips. “I was just…I guess I-“ he sighs and looks at Eddie, who hasn’t taken his eyes off of Steve this whole time. He’s listening, whatever Steve says he’s going to listen and Steve doesn’t know if that’s good or bad. “I was just thinking, about something Robin said the other day.” He lies, thankful for his brain taking over for his heart.

“Yeah?” Eddie quirks a brow, “wanna share?”

“She said she thinks we should spend more time together,” Steve says, watching Eddie’s reaction for something he isn’t quite sure of. “I guess she thinks we make good friends.” Steve shrugs and keeps waiting for a reaction, even though he isn’t sure what he’s expecting. He’s unsure that he’s selling this, he wonders if Eddie knows he’s not saying everything. “I think she’s right.” He adds slowly before looking back at the tv, but only for a second before he feels Eddie’s fingers lightly press against his cheek and turn his face back to his.

Steve feels dizzy, drunk, he feels like he’s floating and he hopes that maybe out of all the outcomes he’s prepared for, he’d get a good one.

“You know what I think?” Eddie asks, and his voice is quiet and low, it makes Steve feel weak.

“Huh?” Steve says, and he can hear how dumb he sounds, his brain is just totally off. All he can see are brown eyes looking into his, all he can hear is his own heart pounding and all he can feel is Eddie’s fingers still resting on his face.

Eddie smiles, “I think…” he lets his fingers trail down Steve’s chin and neck, it’s quick but Steve can feel his heat lingering for longer than he knows is possible. Eddie sighs and glances at the screen, then back to Steve. “I think you should come over more.”

Steve nods slowly, closing his mouth, and trying to come back to life. He can’t get his mouth to form words, he just takes a swig of his beer and looks back at the tv. He’s trying to ignore the fact that now Eddie’s the one staring, he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to feel about it. Why is he staring? He glances over and accidentally makes eye contact. “What?” He laughs a little, in the back of his head he notes again that the beer is definitely not helping.

“Oh, so you can stare at me all night but it’s weird if I do it?”

“I was not staring.” Steve lies, knowing there’s almost no chance that Eddie would believe him.

“You know I have eyes right?” Eddie asks, “And i use them? And I use them to catch you staring at me.”

“Oh, will you shut up, Munson? So I looked at you?” Steve rolls his eyes, his argument half hearted, he’s loosening up and it feels good. He’s fighting to not say or do anything dumb, and he worries he’s going to lose. “What are you going to do about it? hmm?”

Eddie smirks at Steve, and Steve immediately realizes what he sets himself up for. He only realizes now that he might have done it on purpose. “I have a few ideas.” Eddie says after a second that feels like forever.

Steve’s brain checked out about ten minutes ago, he’s scrambling to think of anything to say, something that he can get out of this with. He settles for rolling his eyes and just pretending to watch the movie. After a minute, he feels Eddie move just a little closer, he uses up all of his focus to just keep his eyes on the tv.

“You know what’s weird?” Eddie says, breaking the silence that Steve desperately wanted. He can’t say something he shouldn’t if they’re not talking.

“Do you ever stop talking?” Steve asks, rolling his head to look at Eddie, happy to have a reason for once. He tries to sound annoyed but the smile on his lips betrays him.

“I thought all the Vecna, Upside Down, horror movie come to life stuff was going to be the weirdest experience of my life,” He says, and Steve is all of the sudden very aware of just how much closer Eddie got. “but this? You and me, hanging out, being…friends? This is definitely weirder.”

Steve laughs softly, “No, you’re right. It’s kind of weird.”

“It’s weird,” Eddie repeats, looking at Steve for a second before he takes a breath. “But, I like it.”

Steve’s heart races, and he can’t stop his eyes from darting to Eddie’s lips for just a fraction of a second. He nods, “I like it too.”

Eddie doesn’t take his eyes off of Steve, “Good,” He smiles, “You’re stuck with me now, Harrington.” He says, going back to the movie.

Steve takes the opportunity to internally panic, both of them sitting just a little too close to each other facing the screen. Steve reaches for his beer and starts going through what the fuck just happened. He isn’t sure if he’s reading too into things, or if he’s just seeing what he wants to. But he’s starting to think maybe Robin’s right, maybe Eddie -maybe- has some similar feelings. He can’t stop himself from testing the waters a little, hoping to not be as obvious as he feels. “So, y-you liked the uhm, other movie?” He stumbles out, looking ahead, a little afraid that if he looks at Eddie, he’ll give himself away.

“Yeah,” Eddie replies. “yeah, it was good.”

Steve decides he’s gotten this far and chances testing the water, “How’d the date go?”

“What?” Eddie looks at him, “Oh, yeah,” he laughs quietly. “It didn’t.”

Steve can’t stop himself from looking over, “It didn’t?”

Eddie watches him for a second, and Steve can tell he’s thinking something over. He’d give anything to know what. “Yeah, but it was for the best.” Eddie shrugs, “Wasn’t really what I want now anyway.”

Steve nods, “Well, she’s missing out.”

Eddie hums an agreement and goes back to looking at the screen.

Steve sits and tries to not get his hopes up for five minutes straight, and that’s when he feels Eddie’s fingers lightly brush against his own.

Steve instantly looks over at Eddie, who is focused completely on the screen in front of them. Steve blinks and looks back at the tv too. He doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t even know what to think. The only thing he knows right now is that he’s about to do something stupid.

He brushes his fingers against Eddie’s this time, slow and a little shaky. This time he ignores the other when he looks his way. Instead, Steve can’t even help himself and he does it again, this time letting his fingers go up to Eddie’s wrist, tracing against the edge of his bracelet.

They both go quiet and still for a second, and Steve starts to panic. Why did he do that? But why did Eddie start it? His face is burning and his hands feel empty and cold.

The panic subsides quickly when he feels Eddie’s fingers graze against the top of his hand. He smiles, and looks over at Eddie.

This time Eddie looks back, his head resting on the back of the couch, “What?” He asks, innocently as if nothing is going on.

Steve can feel the heat coming from Eddie, they’re so close and all he wants to do is fill the space that separates them. He looks at Eddie for a minute, he swears he hears those records from the other night playing somewhere in the back of his mind, or maybe it’s real he can’t tell. Nothing really feels real.

Steve’s starting to get exhausted, he’s not good at this. He’s not good at hiding feelings, he’s not good at lying, he’s not good at pretending. He thinks if he doesn’t leave right now he’s going to lose.

“I might do something stupid.” He says without thinking, reason and sense left him the second Eddie touched his hand.

“I don’t doubt that.” Eddie quips, smiling softly. He waits for a second to see if Steve is going to continue, and Steve notices. But he can’t bring himself to move or talk. Luckily Eddie rolls his eyes a little and keeps talking, “If you’re gonna do something stupid, promise to do it with me.” He whispers, Steve can nearly feel his breath on his face.

Steve looks at him, he’s grasping at excuses and subject changes in his mind but he can’t seem to hang on to any long enough to stop himself from thinking about kissing Eddie Munson. As soon as the thought enters his mind it consumes him. He remembers Eddie said something, and he pulls his eyes from Eddie’s mouth to his eyes, unsure of how long they’d been there. “I really-“ he stops himself, unsure of how he’d finish that sentence, the words on his tongue trying to escape. “I uh,-“ He tries to turn away from him, he tries to pretend things aren’t as intense as they feel. He tries, but he can’t and he’s right back to looking at Eddie, right back to trying to figure out what to do, how to tell him without saying it, how to make this less awkward. His thoughts are interrupted, and he’s almost thankful.

“Steve,” Eddie says, quietly with a new air of seriousness to his tone that Steve isn’t expecting. “Whatever it is that you want to tell me…” he trails off, and without any plan they both move a little closer, Eddie doesn’t look away from Steve this time when he moves his fingers against his. “I’m waiting.” he finally says, and doesn’t move away.

Steve can’t take anymore, he feels like he’s not dreaming for the first time. He feels like this is real, he didn’t make this up, it’s not in his head. He likes Eddie, and he can’t help but think that Eddie likes him too. He feels another soft stroke against his palm and he gives up. He takes Eddie’s hand, finally threading their fingers together. “Yeah, well-“ he starts, he looks from their hands, back to Eddie, he can barely catch his breath as he leans in, stalling for another moment to be absolutely sure he’s not dreaming, but then Eddie leans in slowly and he stops caring about any of the things he was worried about before. “I’m done waiting.” Steve says, before he finally closes the distance between them, slowly. He brings a hand up to thread through Eddie’s hair, and it’s just as soft as he’d imagined. He feels Eddie kiss him back, it nearly knocks him out. Eddie brings up a hand to rest on Steve’s side, and pulls him closer, he can’t stop the small noise he makes.

Out of every scenario he planned, every version of this he rehearsed in his head, nothing compared to how it actually felt. His heart is pounding, his hands are shaking while he runs them over Eddie’s body, he feels like he’s on fire, he’s overwhelmed but in the best way.

Everything gets a little colder though when he and Eddie finally pull apart, he desperately wants to just dive right back in but he takes a second to try to wrap his head around everything. The nerves start to creep back in quickly as he worries if he’s made a mistake. What if he read everything wrong?

He takes a breath, hoping he doesn’t let any of his panic show. He looks away and shudders out a soft laugh. “Sorry, I-“ he stops and looks over at Eddie, unsure of what to say or do.

But Eddie’s watching him, looking a little unsure himself. “So…” he starts slowly, both of them backing away a little. “Do we…talk about it or-“

“I like you.” Steve says, surprising even himself. He didn’t mean to say it, he didn’t plan on ever telling Eddie Munson that he liked him. He doesn’t know why he can’t stop, he couldn’t stop himself from touching Eddie, he couldn’t stop himself from kissing him, and now he’s just telling him this and he doesn’t know how to stop. He blames the alcohol but knows it’s not that. The words have been threatening to leave his lips since he realized they were there.

Eddie raises his eyebrows, giving Steve a second. “Yeah?” he grins, just kinda beaming at Steve expectantly, and patiently.

Steve sighs, realizing there’s nothing he can do now. He’s done everything he promised himself he wouldn’t, and now he’s just going to have to follow through with it and hope for the best. “Yeah,” he rolls his eyes a little when he notices the smug expression on Eddie’s face. “I can’t believe it, but yes, Munson. I like you.”

“See, I knew you had a crush on me.” Eddie says, before getting a little closer.

“Oh my god,” Steve groans a little, “don’t even start.”

Eddie laughs softly, and relaxes back into the couch again, glancing back at the credits rolling on the screen. “I’m gonna be honest, I don’t think I even know what happened in this movie.” He turns to Steve, fidgeting a little with his hands and watching him a second, “It doesn’t matter though, cause I didn’t ask you to come over for a movie. It was just an excuse to see you.” He waits a second before looking head again.

He starts to feel nervous again, but it’s different than before. Fears and uncertainty are now replaced with a need to get this right. It’s been a while since he’s gotten something he’s wanted, he doesn’t wanna ruin it. “You didn’t need an excuse.”

Eddie smiles, he barely glances away from the static on the tv, “This might surprise you, Harrington, but I’m not the best at talking about feelings.” He admits, locking eyes with Steve, “But, I like you too, okay?”

Sure, Steve kind of got that already, but hearing Eddie say it still made his stomach flip. He smiles a little, trying to wrap his head around it. He likes him. Eddie likes Steve.

Steve finally starts to feel better, his world is changing again, but it’s slowing down a little. He feels like even if he doesn’t know what happens next, or what he’s supposed to do or say, he’s going to be alright. He can’t remember the last time he felt like he was going to be alright, so he tries to soak it in while he can. “So…what now?” He asks, smiling a little nervously.

Eddie looks like he’s pretending to think about it, looking up at nothing with a small smile, tapping a finger against his lips, “Well, we could watch another movie.” He suggests, looking at Steve, and something about this look makes Steve feel nervous, but not in a bad way.

Steve takes a breath, he tries to assess the situation, trying to figure out if Eddie is implying what he hopes he is. “We didn’t even watch the last one.” He reminds him.

“Yeah, we aren’t going to watch the next one either, Harrington.” Eddie says, leaning close and pressing his lips to Steve’s, barely giving him time to react before he stands up. “Stay there, I get to pick this time.”

Steve just watches as Eddie runs off to find a movie, he feels completely dumbfounded as he takes this in. He attempts to figure out the exact moment this started, but quickly realizes he doesn’t actually care. It wouldn’t make a difference.

Eddie puts the movie into the VCR and quickly turns back to Steve, walking over to him, “The goal here, by the way, is to see as little of this fuckin’ movie as possible.” He says, before threading this fingers into Steve’s hair and kissing him, pushing him back onto the couch. “Sound good?” Eddie says, after a few seconds, taking a breath and pulling back to look at Steve.

Steve nods quickly, “Sounds great.” he pulls Eddie back down into another kiss, feeling him smile against his lips. He doesn’t care about anything other than this right now, he just wants to get as close to Eddie as he can. And he does, they spend the whole night together tangled up, nothing but the tv and the post lamp outside shining in the dark.

When Steve leaves, he kisses Eddie goodbye, this time he doesn’t feel like he’s forgetting anything, but he still doesn’t want to go, he’s already counting down until he can come back. And when he drives away, he checks his rear view and catches Eddie watching him drive away again and Steve knows he’s going to spend another night awake thinking about Eddie Munson.

He still isn’t sure how this happened, he knows he could sit and think about it forever before it made sense, but it doesn’t have to make sense. It doesn’t matter to him how he got here, he’s just happy that he‘s here now.

[thebearer]

Annnnnnd how would Lip act in the situation of the devastation fic

i’ve had to think about this tbh. bc he kinda already had his own version with the unexpected pregnancy news of freddy.

but i started thinking in terms of lip’s reader leaving and taking the kids with her, and genuinely, i can’t think of a situation where that would happen and she would come back. like they’d be done.

now, with that being said, i could see lip and you getting into a fight- a huuuuugggeee fight. bigher than the one when you found out you were pregnant with amelia. this is based off of lip with best friend!reader who’s a elementary school teacher. she does pretty well, has a salary and insurance so wayyyy better than anything lip grew up with, but they’re not rich by any means. truly comfortable. lip’s working at the auto shop, still doing odd ball jobs but more full time, got promoted to a shift supervisor and got a raise. you both share a bank account together bc it makes it easier.

debby (bc it’s always debby and i’m a debby hater sorry) does something stupid. stupid enough to need bail money, stupid enough that she might get franny taken away or placed into custody elsewhere. debby calls lip, wailing and frantic for money, and lip, of course, rushes to give in.

comes to you all frantic and manic. “hey, uh, i-i need to move some money alright?”

“move some money? why?” you frown. “lip, are you- is everything alright?”

“debby got arrested.” lip mumbles. he’s known you for a while, a long while, he knows your disdain when it comes to debby and her carelessness. more so, his incessant need to always pull her out of the hole she dug herself in. “she needs money for bail.”

“woah, woah, hold on.” you stop him. “you’re- you’re not- lip, absolutely not.”

“what?” lip snaps. “absolutely not? what-“

“-lip.” you glare at him lightly. “no, we-we don’t have that kind of money right now. jude starts daycare next month, and the daycare fees are going to double-“

“-yeah because you insist on puttin’ them in that fancy ass one by your school.” lip scoffs. “couldn’t leave them with mrs. mcgee. too fuckin’ good for that.”

“yeah, i am too good to leave my babies with a lady who chain smokes and watches the price is right all day.” you glare. “i want my babies to go somewhere safe and- that’s not even the point right now. lip, no. you’re not doing it. we can’t afford it.”

“we can fucking afford it. don’t start this shit with me-“

“-lip, we might have the money for it, but that does not mean we can afford it. that’s our savings, our safety net-“

“-and this is my family. my sister.” lip gritted his teeth. “isn’t that what the safety nets for, huh? for shit like this? unexpected bad shit?”

“not for debby.” you snap, finality in your tone. “not for someone who continues to make bad decisions and not learn from them and then wants you to run and get her out of it every time. i’m sorry, lip. this time i’m not letting you do it.”

that escalates bc one, you told lip he couldn’t do something which just made him turn more stubborn, and two, he’s blinded with irrational rage.

“what about franny, huh? she’s your fuckin’ niece, you’re gonna just let her get put in the system-“

“-franny is more than welcome to stay here. i will gladly take her while debby’s figuring shit out, but you have kids you need to think of. two kid that are yours that you need to think of, lip!”

“don’t you fucking dare.” lip snarls. “don’t you use my kids against me.”

“i’m not using them against you! jesus, lip, you don’t get to just come in here and tell me what we’re doing with our money! that’s my money in there too, ok? i’m telling you right now, if you fuckin’ use my money on this, and not think about our kids, you might as well just not come home.”

lip is furious, leaves without another word, slamming the door hard behind him leaving you in the house with freddy and baby jude. you’re fuming, upset, hurt- he’s feeling the same. lip is furious, furious at you telling him what to do.

he ends up at ian’s house after coming dangerously close to going to the alibi. ian talks him down, tells him you’re right, which was not what lip wanted to hear.

“debby can wait. she’ll get out soon enough and she can figure it out.” ian rolls his eyes. “she shouldn’t have been such a fuckin’ moron.”

“what about franny then, huh? you’re gonna just let her go into the system? let cps get her until then?” lip spat furiously.

ian scoffs. “franny is with carl right now. he’s bringin’ her here tonight.”

lip burns with embarrassment, feeling petulant but still pissed. “hey, word of advice?” ian smirks. “quit bein’ a hard headed jack ass and go home and apologize to your wife before she comes to her senses and leaves your ass for good.”

and lip is still mad but it’s dwindling, a guilt replacing it instead. he just needed to calm down, to think straight. walking back to your house, he had the time to.

lip jammed his key in the door, the ridges not sliding the usual way, not clicking. so he tried again, turning the key with no luck- it didn’t budge. he pulled on the knob, twisting again and again but nothing. “stupid fuckin’ piece of shit door.” lip grumbles, knocking on the door.

he waits, huffing, knocking louder. when there was still no response, lip goes to pull out his phone, only then does he see the pink envelope with his name on it on the welcome mat.

lip opens it up to find a note:

“phillip,

since you insist on doing whatever you want without asking me or considering our family, i decided i would do the same. you can go stay with debby since you chose her over me and my kids.

ps. don’t bother with the lock, i had them changed xoxo”

he found his car keys under the envelope. lip was furious, absolutely fucking furious and sick and upset and just overwhelmed with every emotion possible. you hadn’t even given him his lighter, so he took a walk to the corner store to buy a pack of spirits and a lighter. he called you on his way back, not surprised when you didn’t pick up.

“hey, you know, i know you think you’re bein’ real fuckin’ funny but this shit isn’t funny, ok? i didn’t choose debby, i didn’t do shit, alright? so let me back in the house and let’s be adults about this.”

then another voicemail.

“alright, seriously? you’re not gonna let me in? you’re not gonna let me come say goodnight to freddy or jude? that’s fucked up. really fuckin’ fucked up.”

“you’re bitchin’ me out about not spending money, and-and you get that done? get the locks changed? how much did that cost huh? you can use money to be petty and childish but i don’t get a say in what i want to use it in?”

“ok this is ridiculous. let me in. talk to me. be a fuckin’ adult.”

“seriously? where the fuck am i supposed to sleep tonight? i know you’re fuckin’ seeing’ these- i can fuckin’ see you! just let me in!”

you don’t budge. don’t reply back, don’t answer the calls. he knows better than to bang on the door, wake jude or freddy up, and truthfully… he’s a little terrified at the moment. very scared that you’re truly done with him, that ian was right and you’d come to your senses.

so he slept in his car. in the driveway, thankful it was warm that night and he had a few spare shirts and things in the back. he waited until the next morning, when he knew you’d be up with the boys, to ring the doorbell.

his anger had vanished to fear and guilt, retreating back to you with his tail tucked between his legs, all sad eyes and gentle apologies that you deflected with anger still bubbling.

it definitely took him a while to make it up, a very long while before you actually gave him his new key. he had to make it up to you, work on his communication and his sharing especially with you.

[bird-inacage]

Love Sea (Episode 1): Tongrak's Striking Sensitivity

I'm really intrigued by Tongrak's characterisation so far. He's more openly sensitive than I had pictured. Yes, there's some unyielding arrogance, but it's often coupled with noticeable self-doubt - which is what really has my attention. This is not the confident, suave, uppity writer I anticipated from the trailers.

Peat has a talent for conveying fragility. And there's something about Tongrak that feels distinctly helpless. It's early days but there were a couple moments in Episode 1 I felt were worth dissecting.

Shaken but not Stirred?

"Don't you feel anything at all? Not a single bit?" "My charm didn't work? Someone like me failed?" Tongrak is upset when he thinks Mut isn't enticed by him sexually (though we see this isn't the case later).

"Don't you feel anything at all when I look down on you?" He says again when he tries to get under Mut's skin by refusing every dish he brings to the table. When Mut doesn't respond in the way he'd hoped, Tongrak falters, deflates, and is agitated by how unbothered Mut appears to be. Mut isn't easily ruffled, riled or offended. He takes everything in his stride. Nothing Tongrak has said or done has deterred him from doing his job.

To me, there's an undertone of shame in many of Tongrak's reactions, which funnily enough Mut makes a point of saying "Ever since you've got here, you've only displayed two faces. Arrogant and embarrassed." What is Tongrak embarrassed about? Could it be:

Why do I feel so powerless in my ability to affect and control the situation/people around me?

Why do I have so little purchase over my own feelings? Why can't I be more cool/collected, indifferent or nonchalant?

Each time Tongrak gets flustered, it seems to be because 'things are not going the way that I want them to.' Which is interesting when you consider the appeal of being a writer. The very profession that allows you to take control of the narrative into your own hands.

Expect the Unexpected

Tongrak is clearly shaken up when he thinks Mut has fallen off the boat. He accuses Mut of playing with him, that perhaps this was an appalling joke at his expense. The fact that Mut warned Tongrak moments ago not to lean too close to the side, proves he isn't the type to do so. No matter how you look at it, Tongrak's accusatory tone is surprising, considering how little he knows of Mut at present.

Because this is MAME, I don't want to always assume there's trauma involved, but it definitely comes across that way. I think the average person would probably go 'Jesus Christ, you scared me, I thought you'd fallen in, thank god you're alright!', rather than 'Is it fun messing with me like that? Do you want to see me die from a heart attack?" It makes me wonder if Tongrak has some form of survivor's guilt or has been witness to a life in danger before, where he was powerless to help them.

You can also consider his reaction through the lens of shame (feeling exposed) by getting so worked up in the first place. He panics. He cries. Maybe he feels like he's made a fool out of himself and wildly over-reacted. Even more so when Mut always seems to be so calm, rational and level-headed in his presence. He's angry at Mut for not giving him a heads up before going into the water, but he also seems upset at himself for reacting so intensely as well.

Tongrak doesn't seem to deal well with situations that don't go as planned. Especially when it subsequently causes a reaction in him that is perhaps a bit more revealing than he'd ideally like. His sensitivity to and in almost all things appears to be his undoing.

This is just my attempt to extrapolate my thoughts on Tongrak from this episode, which really had my gears turning. The two points above may or may not be related at all. I can tell there's going to be tonne to unpack in the coming weeks.

You can check out bird-inacage’s BL meta directory for all my other posts around Love Sea.