#but the flat one looked exactly like my resting face (it’s literally the face i make in my drivers license photo)

[runa-falls]

something new

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

rating: explicit (18+)

cw: smut, afab!reader, fluff :3, grinding/dry humping, pussy-job, creampie, 'outercourse', soft boyfriend!mig

w/c: ~2k

a/n: rewrite of my old fic bc i need it with miguel. if you read it before ignore it ;^) mig looks like this fanart by @xynnoix

----

You’re lounging on the sofa, legs resting in Miguel's lap and sitting in comfortable silence, when you decide to proposition him.

“I saw this video online and…I wanna try something with you.” He briefly looks up from his spider-pad, attention perked at your soft-spoken voice.

You beam at him from across the couch, an innocent smile slapped on your face as your lashes bat nicely against the tops of your cheeks.

Miguel simply shakes his head dismissively, “Cariño, we’re not doing any more MMA techniques.” He swiftly turns his attention back to his work, pointedly ignoring your childish pout. “You got hurt last time, remember?”

You let out an exaggerated sigh, “First, I didn’t even twist my ankle during the match! I literally slipped down the stairs when we left the training area. Secondly, that’s not even what I’m talking about!” 

“Ok, then what is it? WWE moves?” He asks teasingly, eyes still focused on the screen.

“Actually…I wanna try outercourse-- i-is that how you say it?” You talk about it so casually that he doesn't even realize what you’re saying until he plays it back in his head a few times. The finger that was working through several urgent emails slows down as you continue to ramble. 

“...Like pussy-jobs and grinding, I think. I don’t exactly know the technical terms that are involved, but it looked hot–” Your voice tapers off when you realize he’s looking at you.

His darkened gaze concentrates on your thighs that are unintentionally rubbing together as you recall your new interest. 

You know that look. His glaze-over eyes, furrowed brows, and tense body mean one thing: he’s interested too. 

Despite how worked up he is, Miguel manages to gently place his tablet on a side table before slowly wrapping his fingers around your ankles on his lap.

“So you want me to fuck you without actually fucking you?” 

“Y-yes...?”

He hums, turning his whole body to face you.

He fluidly pulls your body down to lay flat on the couch in front of him, barely leaving any room for him to sit. You feel his hand tap the side of your thigh.

“Open up for me, baby.”

Your loose shorts hike up your thighs as you obediently spread your legs for him, kneesbending to make space for him to scoot closer to you. The pale pink fabric displays a dark splotch over your center, evidence of your arousal and lack of underwear underneath. Miguel tauntingly raises an eyebrow when he notices.

“Aw, is your pussy already leaking for me?” Your breath stutters as he lightly glides his finger over your covered cunt.

“J-just a little.” Your thighs threaten to close when you feel him prod shallowly against your entrance. He groans, noticing how his movements encourage your slick to soak through the flimsy fabric of your shorts. 

You whine as you feel him pull away.

“Such a juicy slut for me.” He rasps, pushing himself closer to you so his head hangs over yours. Your head swims when you breathe in his comforting scent, he's so close, but you need him closer. Your body instinctively attempts to press up against him.

“Gimme a kiss, cariño.” 

You immediately obey, wrapping your arms around his neck and locking your legs over his waist, effectively pulling his warmth into your space. He leans in and gently brushes his lips against yours, taking time to breathe you in as your gaze locks with his. 

A breath is caught between you as you gaze into each other’s eyes, drinking each micro-expression on your face. Miguel lets out a soft sigh, "You're gorgeous."

And the intense mood breaks. 

You pull away to lightly giggle into his chest, a soft blush blooming from the edge of your neck to the tops of your cheeks. He matches your smile, watching with amused eyes as you react to his flattery.

Somehow he can still make you feel unbearably giddy despite the months you’ve been dating. 

You look back up with a crooked smile, “You’re pretty too, Spider-Man.” 

Miguel dips his head in and captures your lips in his. He’s gentle at first, slowly savoring your lips with small nips and caresses. He runs the tip of his tongue over the edge of your bottom lip, trailing a line over the sensitive skin, then pushing further against your mouth.

You whine when he licks into your mouth, coaxing your tongue to mingle with him, to taste your mixed flavor of lust.

Your back arches when he presses a finger flush against your throbbing clit. it simultaneously sends warm ecstasy down your legs and up your spine, and you can feel your center pulsing, craving more. 

Miguel leaves your mouth as he moves further up the couch to fit himself between your thighs. His forearms support his weight next to your shoulders as he gently lets his hips rest against yours. You can already feel his stiff cock twitching persistently between your bodies.

“Is this okay?” He asks, voice husky as he considers you under him.

Your eyes blearily blink up at him before you give him a shy nod, already looking thoroughly fucked out with your mussed hair and pink lips. He experimentally pushes down against you and starts to grind himself into your body with controlled strokes. 

The rough texture of his jeans digs deliciously into your softness, barely subdued by the thin fabric of your shorts. Pleasure zips up your spine as he involuntarily ruts against your clit with each shove of his hips. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, attempting to smother your cries into his skin.

“This what you wanted?” He growls, body hot and heavy against yours. 

You feel yourself grow infinitely wetter, warmth spreading over your inner thighs. You whine as he twitches against you, your body hypersensitive to everything around you.

“Mm, fuck.” He feels your slick slowly travel through the thickness of his jeans. 

He can barely hear your wrecked voice over the sound of his jeans rubbing over you and the couch rocking against the wooden floors.

“Wait.” 

His hips stutter to a stop, “Wait?” Miguel's eyes look worried as he searches your face, wondering if something went wrong.

“I-I just want more.” You bite your lip nervously as you stare back at him, feeling guilty that you scared him.

The tension in his body slacks quickly, like cool water rushing down his back. “More?”

You nod sheepishly, “Uh-huh.” 

He climbs off of you and kneels on the floor to your side, “Ok, can you show me?” His voice is soft and patient as he speaks to you.

He watches as you shove your hips upwards to tug off your shorts before throwing them to the side. You do the same with your tank top, then settle back into the couch cushions.

Your legs squeeze together as your sensitive nipples tighten when exposed to the cool air. You look over at Miguel who’s admiring your bare body next to you, “You too.” He immediately pulls off his shirt and shoves down his jeans before rejoining you. 

Miguel kneels on the couch and pushes your legs up to reveal your dripping pussy, leaking messily from your rutting session a few minutes ago. He slaps himself over your warmth, spreading your slick over your cunt and watching it drip down to your ass.

“Such a pretty pussy.”

Before you know what’s happening, he positions himself against your entrance and tries to push into your cunt, tip slowly slipping into you with ease. He groans as your cunt instinctively sucks him in, walls fluttering as he begins to stretch you. 

 “No–wait, that’s not what we’re doing!” You simultaneously scoot away and squeeze your legs together once you catch on to what’s happening. 

“What-”

“Outside, Mig, remember? Only outside.” You push up and lean against the couch arm, hair poofed adorably around you. “Here, I’ll show you. Lay down where I was.” You direct, moving off the couch to give him enough room.

“Okay.” He takes your place, cock bobbing with his movements as it stays desperately hard for you. You bite your lip as your eyes trace the happy trail that graces his lower stomach. God, he's delicious.

You straddle yourself over his hips, admiring how delectable he looks below you, hot and ready for you to climb on. He watches you with anticipation as you position yourself his erection that rests against his stomach. 

His breath hitches when you sit your full weight onto him, the pressure makes him throb against the seam of your cunt. You experimentally rub yourself against the silken skin of his cock, barely holding yourself up on your knees to make it easier to move. He groans as you spread your warmth over his cock and the bottom of his muscled torso. 

“So wet for me, baby.” He looks up at you with heavy eyes, his top lip barely covering his protruded fangs. His hand squeezes the top of your thigh when you lock eyes.

A small piece of your hair sways over his forehead with each movement of your hips. As you grind over him, the head of his cock nudges delectably against your clit causing you to clench around nothing every time it hits you.

You pathetically puff out breaths as your stomach tightens in heat, eyes already threatening to roll to the back of your head. Lewd wet sounds lick between your bodies as you fluidly slick yourself against him.

Your thighs shake as you get closer to the edge, hips slowing down as the white-hot pleasure ripples through your body. Miguel licks his lips and takes initiative, canting his hips upwards in sync with yours, slipping himself more firmly against you.

He pulls your arms off of his chest and gathers them behind your back. Your spine arches prettily for him, ass stuck out behind you. In this position, you’re forced to surrender yourself to every push of his hips and slip of his cock.

It’s electrifying. You cry out when your orgasm pulls you under its firey wave. Your thighs clench around his hips as your body trembles above him. The sparks refused to flicker off as Miguel continues to rut against you, body tenses as he meets his end as well.

He thrusts one final glide of his cock through the soaked petals of your cunt before abruptly pushing into you, overwhelming your senses with the painfully exquisite sensation of being stretched all at once.

He growls as your warmth wraps around him, fluttering prettily as he shoves himself deep inside.

He stutters inside of you, pushing himself incredibly deep inside of you as he cums and cums, filling you to the brim. A satisfying warmth pools at the bottom of your stomach as he paints your walls, soothing your weak body as it recovers from your orgasm.

You collapse onto Miguel's body, ignoring how unbearably hot it is as your bodies try to cool down. His heart beats heavily next to yours and everything slows down. He hums under you, gently stroking a hand against your back .

You don’t know how long you lay there, enjoying each other’s company, but you're half awake by the time Miguel gets up, with you, boneless, in his arms. 

“How does a bath sound, mi vida?” You lazily look up at him as he carries you to the bathroom with ease. His voice is still so...sultry.

“Am just I weak or something?” Your voice rasps harshly, “How are you not fighting the urge to pass out right now?”

He nuzzles his face into your body, pecking a kiss against your sweat-stick throat. “I could actually go again if you'd like..."

[unfinishedslurs]

gay bar (steddie)

“Well, well, well,” says a voice from behind. “Steeeeeeve Harrington. I must be dreaming.”

Steve turns around to see a guy, dressed in black and chains. Rings decorating his fingers, studs in his ears, curly hair pulled back in a ponytail. He’s hot, yeah, but something about him has Steve squinting, trying to figure out why he looks so familiar. 

“I know you from somewhere,” he says, pointing out the obvious. The guy knows his name.

The not-a-stranger snorts. “Of course you don’t remember me. Why would the likes of King Steve stoop to—“

As soon as the nickname leaves his mouth, Steve’s brain lights up. “Munson!” He exclaims, snapping his fingers. “You used to climb on the lunch tables to give speeches.”

It was so obnoxious, too. The kind of thing that had him and Robin reminiscing late at night, celebrating some of the weirder shit about Hawkins that didn’t come from monsters, or Russians, or government conspiracy. Remember that one asshole? Yeah, he stepped on my lunch one time!

Condolences to Robin’s pb&j. She never sat at that table again.

Munson’s whole face turns pink. “Seriously? That’s what you remember?”

“It was pretty fucking memorable, dude. Like, gross, doesn’t this guy know not to put his feet where people eat? Dustin thought you were so cool for it too. I had to nip that in the bud before he started imitating you or some shit.”

“Oh,” he says, voice gone flat. “Because God forbid some poor kid try to immolate the freak.”

Steve gives him his bitchiest, most deadpan stare. “Feet,” he says slowly. “Nasty, fifteen year old boy feet. On my kitchen table. He almost slipped and cracked his skull, and I would have sent you the hospital bill.”

He had to get creative to make him stop, too. Stood there, hands on his hips, and made Dustin tell him exactly how many germs he thought were on his shoes. Then when he tried to do it barefoot, decided the only course of action was to stuff Dustin’s abandoned sock in his mouth and ask if he wanted that shit with every meal. Erica still has the photos. 

Munson has the decency to look embarrassed, face flooding an even brighter red that wouldn’t be out of place in a tomato patch. “What are you even doing here, Harrington?”

What does he think Steve’s doing here? It’s a fucking gay bar, it’s pretty self explanatory. “My friend is here somewhere,” he says, waving out at the crowd of people. “She’s going through a dry spell, so…”

“Right,” Munson says. Steve squints at him. Does he look disappointed?

Eh. Doesn’t matter. 

“You gave my kids the best freshman year of their nerdy little lives,” he tells him, because he knows Dustin would want him to. Plus, the guy was Mike’s gay awakening. He should probably get some credit. “So thanks for that.”

He lights up. “Yeah! How was Hellfire in my absence?”

“I had to hear them bitch and moan for months about how it ‘wasn’t the same,’ but it’s doing pretty all right. Erica Sinclair is running it now.”

“Erica Sinclair…” Munson mutters, snapping his fingers. “Lucas Sinclair’s little sister? Lady Applejack?” He beams when Steve nods. “She kicked ass. Best finish to a campaign my entire high school career. How’s Lucas, anyway? And the rest of the runts.”

“He’s doing great,” Steve says. “College basketball at Yale. Pretty sure he’s dying under the workload, but that’s what you get for majoring in physics. Dustin’s at MIT, and Mike’s taking a gap year.”

He whistles lowly. “Yeesh, I don’t blame him. How about Byers?”

“Which one?”

“Zombie boy.” Steve’s hackles raise, but Munson just grins. “God, that nickname was badass.”

“How do you even know about that?”

Munson taps the side of his nose. “A magician never reveals his secrets. Besides, all it took for you to remember me was calling you by your high school nickname.”

“That wasn’t my nickname.” Steve rolls his eyes. “Literally three people ever actually called me that, and you were one of them.”

He has a feeling it was Tommy who started it, bitter and vicious. Told himself Steve was self possessed, high and mighty, above it all. That’s why he left his old friends behind. Not because he was in love, or because he wanted to be better. No, King Steve just sits alone in his castle, looking down on the peasants with contempt. 

Billy must have taken his angry ramblings and run with them. After all, what better way to get a start in a new town than declaring yourself royalty? Never mind that Steve hadn’t cared about anything like that for almost a year by then. 

Munson had just been a drama-loving asshole. 

“That can’t be right.”

“I stopped being popular in junior year. Why the hell would anyone call a sophomore King?” Steve points out. 

“You were Prom King.”

“Again, in junior year. Pickings were slim. Who else would it have been? Tommy?” He has to laugh. 

Luckily, Munson takes the hint and swerves the conversation into new territory. “You know, I always figured you’d be homophobic.”

Steve snorts. “What, and get kicked out for nothing?”

Munson stares at him, and Steve furrows his brow, looking into his glass like it will have the answer to why the hell he said that to this guy he barely knows. He just decided he wasn’t going to spill all his daddy issues to a near-stranger in a dingy bar, dammit. Is he already on his fifth drink?

Actually, this might be his sixth. That tracks. 

“What?”

“My dad caught me kissing a boy,” he says. If he’s going to give Munson his life story, he might as well commit. “Can you believe that boy ruined my life in three different ways? Two of them didn’t even have anything to do with the gay thing.” 

Maybe four ways, if you accounted for the way he broke his goddamn heart, but everyone and their mother saw that coming a mile away. Even Steve. Especially Steve. 

No offense to Jonathan. None of those things were really his fault. Or actually life ruining, but it sure fucking felt like it at the time. 

He should give him a call soon, actually, see how he and Argyle are doing. He misses the guy. Maybe he and Robin should save up for a visit to Cali. Get Nancy on it. They could see San Francisco while they were there, that’d be cool. Apparently it was the queer capital of the country. 

He’s thinking about asking the bartender for a napkin and a pen to write down the plans he’s forming when Munson speaks up again. Steve honestly forgot he was here. 

“I thought you said you were here for a friend.”

What?” Steve blinks, confused, and then catches on. “Yeah, to get her laid. I’m not in the mood right now.”

Munson cocks an eyebrow. “Wearing that? Could’ve fooled me.”

Steve looks down at his Springsteen T-Shirt that Robin cropped, and picks at the frayed hem of his shorts. Okay, yeah, they’re on the skimpy side, but in his defense it’s summer and even if he’s not cruising Steve likes being looked at. “Yeah, yeah. What about you? Here for anything in particular?”

“Just to talk to some pretty boys,” Munson says, leaning on the bar to flag down the bartender. Steve smirks, reaching out a hand to tug at the hanky in his back pocket. Pinned, damn. 

Munson whirls around, a flush starting to crawl onto his ears. 

“Wearing that?” Steve echos snarkily. “Could’ve fooled me.”

He swears that for a minute Munson’s eyes darken. 

He’s almost tempted to follow through, high school reputation be damned, when someone crashes into his side and nearly sends him careening. 

“Steeeeeve,” Robin yells happily into his ear. “This is Bernie, she’s gonna take me home, see you la—oh, hi!” She says, noticing Munson. “I know you from somewhere.”

“Eddie Munson,” Munson greets. “Steve and I went to high school together.”

“Munson! That’s it, you climbed on tables and had shit music. I’m Robin. Okay, I’ll call the apartment and leave a message when we get there. Bernie’s waiting on me, it’s-nice-to-meet-you-bye!” Just like that, she’s gone. 

Munson’s mouth has dropped open. “You told her I had shit music?” He demands. “Wait, you talked about me?”

“She went to school with us, dumbass,” he says, as if he can talk. He still barely remembers her as more than a vague, glowering figure in his peripheral. “It’s not my fault you blasted your screamy music for everyone in the parking lot. Such a fucking headache, God.”

Munson turns his nose up. “Sorry for having offended your jock sensibilities.”

“Oh, I don’t play anymore,” he says, and knocks on his head. “Concussions, yanno. Apparently brain damage will fuck you up. Who knew?”

“What, like the fight you had with Byers? He did you that bad?”

“He did me just fine,” Steve blurts out, before he can stop himself. Munson chokes. “Shit, sorry, I’m kind of a horny drunk.” Weird thing to say, Steve. “Also, I cannot stress enough how much I needed to be punched in the face. It was a monumental moment for me, you know. Started me on the path for changing my entire worldview. Plus, he was my first guy crush.” He swirls his empty glass, lost in thought, before brightening up. “I should call him!”

Munson is staring at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish. 

“What?”

“You’re drunk.”

“Well, yeah. Duh.”

“I should probably stop you from booty-calling the guy who punched you in the face.”

Steve wrinkles his nose. “It wouldn’t be a booty-call,” he says. “He and Argyle are happy together, man. I’m not gonna ruin that.”

“Oh, so you’d call him because…”

“I call him all the time,” Steve says, confused as to why this is such a big deal. “We’re friends.”

“Jonathan!” He yells happily into the pay phone. Munson is standing to the side, looking on in annoyance. Whatever, it’s not like Steve asked him to do this. “Jonathan, man, how are you?”

“…Steve?”

“Yeah!”

“It’s like…” he hears something clatter in the background, like Jonathan is looking for something, “two in the morning there. You okay?”

“I’m doing great!” He exclaims. “How about you? It’s been ages, man, I miss you.”

“This is so fucking weird,” Munson whispers behind him. Steve ignores him. 

“Are you drunk?”

“No,” he says. “Well, maybe a little. Do you not miss me too?” He pouts, and Jonathan sighs loud enough he hears it over the phone. 

“I just talked to you yesterday.”

Steve frowns. “Yesterday? That can’t be right, it’s been, like, forever. Oh, hey, have you heard from Nance lately? How’s your mom? I love your mom, she’s so fucking cool. Does she know I think she’s cool? How’s Will? It’s been so long, is he taller than me yet? How’s Argyle doing with his degree? I miss you guys.”

“We miss you too, Steve.”

“Awww, Byers, getting soppy on me? Gross, man.”

“You literally just—yeah, okay. Are you alone?”

“Nah, I’ve got this guy with me, he’s walking me home. Oh! Dude, do you remember Munson?”

“Munson?”

“Yeah, Eddie Munson! From high school! The one who used to climb on tables and shit, remember him?”

“Jesus Christ,” Munson groans. “Please let that die.”

“No one is dying,” Steve informs him seriously, and turns back to the phone. Munson sighs. 

“Wasn’t he a drug dealer?”

“Yes! Yeah, drug dealer Munson! Did you ever buy from him?” He turns to where Munson is looking around furtively. “Did Jonathan ever buy from you?”

“How about we not talk about this here,” Munson says through gritted teeth. Steve sighs and turns back to the phone. 

“Never mind, he says he doesn’t want to talk about that. Not like we can judge him, but whatever. Maybe the guy’s turned into a prude—“

“Okay, give me that.” Munson wrestles the phone out of his hand, and Steve whines at him. “Hey, Byers,” Munson says. “Yeah, it’s Eddie. Or Munson. Whatever. Listen, I’m getting kind of sick of standing here watching Harrington slobber all over the receiver, can he call you tomorrow? What? No, I don’t sell anymore—yeah, total bummer, whatever. Listen, I’ll get him home safe—no, I’m not going to serial murder him. He’s gonna be fine, he’ll call you tomorrow—Nancy Wheeler? Like that girl he dated? Didn’t you—shoot me? Jesus, okay! I’m not gonna kill the guy, Christ. He’s gonna be fine, oh my God. He’ll call you tomorrow. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Yeah, okay. Bye.” He slams the phone into its holder with more than a little contempt. 

“Hey!” Steve protests. “You didn’t let me say bye.”

“You can call him tomorrow and apologize,” Munson says. “Now c’mon, Harrington. I’ve been tasked with getting you home safe, and if I fail, apparently Nancy fucking Wheeler is going to shoot me in the balls.”

“Oh, yeah, she’s really hot when she does that,” Steve says fondly, and Munson splutters. 

“What, does Wheeler just go around shooting people? Does she even have a gun?”

“Of course Nancy has a gun.” Steve frowns. It was one of the sure things in the universe at this point. The sky is blue, Hawkins is fucked up, and Nancy Wheeler has a gun. “And she doesn’t shoot people, stupid. Well, she shot at Billy, but he deserved it.”

“Billy?” Munson mutters, starting to usher Steve in the direction of home. “Who the fuck is Billy?”

“He was trying to kill her first!” Steve defends. “I hit him with a car before he could, so she was okay.”

“Okay, yeah, sure. Why wouldn’t you hit some guy with a car? 

“It wasn’t some guy,” Steve says. “It was Billy. He was, like, possessed or some shit. Oh, and he beat me up. Total psycho.  And that was before the melted flesh monster.”

Munson stops and stares at him. “You know what, sure. Demonic possession. Yeah, okay. Some guy named Billy kicked your ass—wait, are you talking about Billy Hargrove?”

Steve lights up. “Yeah! You remember that? That’s one of the concussions I was talking about. I gotta wear glasses 'cuza that shit. Man, fuck that guy.”

“Didn’t he die?”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve frowns down at the ground. “Shit, I’m, like, speaking ill of the dead, aren’t I? Max wouldn't like that. Unfuck him, or whatever.”

“You wanna come up?” He asks. “For old times sake?”

Munson stares at him like it’s the craziest thing he’s said all evening. “‘Old times’ was your asshole friends calling me a satan worshiper and pushing me around in hallways, Harrington.”

“I know.” He grins. If he was sober he’d definitely feel worse about that, but as it is he’s pretty single minded. “Don't you kind of want to make me cry about it?”

Deer in headlights isn’t usually a good look, but Munson’s got the eyes to make it work. Or Steve is drunk. Either way, it’s kinda cute. 

“You’re drunk,” he finally says, stumbling over the words a little. If Steve pays close attention and ignores most of reality, it almost sounds like he’s trying to convince both of them. “You’re so incredibly drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk.” He totally is. 

“I just had to supervise you calling Jonathan Byers so you didn’t say something you’d regret in the morning.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asks, offended. “I love Jonathan! I tell him all the time. Just because I said he ruined my life—“

“That was him?”

“Did I not say that? Huh. Whatever. Point is, I’m not that drunk.”

“You’re definitely drunk,” Munson says. “I’m not—yeah, no. I’m not coming up.”

“Damn.” Steve shrugs, not too put out about it. It’s a bummer, sure, but he handles rejection like a champ. Just ask Robin. “Worth a shot. See you ‘round, Munson.”

“Don’t kill me,” Steve says. 

“Oh, god, did you punch him?”

“No, I, uh.” Steve rubs the bridge of his nose. “I think I tried to fuck him.”

He has to hold the phone away from his face so Dustin’s screeching doesn’t break his eardrums. 

“Your exes are weirdly protective of you,” Munson says blandly. “Also, didn’t they date?”

“Yeah,” Steve shrugs, not exactly eager to start spilling his life story again now that he’s sober. Munson doesn’t need to know more about his dating history than he already does. “We’re all a little weird about each other, sorry.”

“Weird about your exes,” he hums. “No wonder you’re single.”

“Oh, fuck you. It’s not like that.”

He raises an eyebrow. “No?”

“Are you always this nosy?” Steve asks, a little waspish. 

“Absolutely,” Munson replies without hesitation. “I’d say sorry, but I’m not. When did you even date him?”

“Dude.”

Munson just cocks an expectant eyebrow, hip resting against the bar. He can’t imagine why someone would be so interested in the romantic lives of their old high school classmates. It’s not like Steve is about to ask what was going on between him and Chrissy Cunningham. 

“Well, Harrington?”

“First grade,” Steve answers, deadpan. He grins when Munson chokes. “Nah, it was actually after he and Nancy broke up. Fall of ‘86.”

Arms squeeze him from behind, and Robin slides into view, leaving one hand wrapped pointedly around Steve’s waist. She gets clingy when she thinks someone is bothering him, or when she’s just on the side of drunk that she gets possessive. She told him, embarrassed and hungover, that it’s because she registers someone he’s getting along with as infringing on “her Steve time.” Steve thinks it’s hilarious and kind of sweet, an obvious lesbian trying to pretend he’s her date. Especially because he gets the same way when he’s tipsy and feels like he doesn’t have enough of her attention, so she can't yell at him for being a cockblock. Cuntblock. Whatever the lesbians call it.

He wonders what category she thinks Eddie is. Of guy, that is. Not block-anything.

He'd actually be pretty damn happy if the guy miraculously changed his mind and decided to sit on his cock instead.

“What’s going on here?” She asks, almost cattily. He loves when Robin gets bitchy. It brings him back to their Scoops days, except he gets to see it turned on someone else. 

“I’m telling Eddie my life story,” Steve says blithely.

“Ugh. Who would want that?”

Eddie grins. “I’m curious about the adventures of a former king.” He dips his head in a bow, waving his hand in a flourish. “I don’t know if you remember me from last time, I’m Eddie—“

“Munson, I know. You stepped on my lunch in junior year.”

Eddie turns beet red in record time. 

“Aww, Robbie,” Steve almost coos. “Leave him alone. I wanted to be the one who made him blush like that.”

“It’s not my fault your boy’s easy.”

“Not my boy, clearly,” he mutters under his breath. “And if he were easy, I’d have gotten fucked by now.”

Eddie’s mouth drops open with a choked little sound. Whoops. Steve forgot volume control again. 

Robin takes one look at Eddie’s face and bursts into cackles. 

“He was asking about,” he waved a hand in the air, “the whole Nancy-Jonathan thing.”

Her eyebrows jut up. “You told him about the threesome?”

“The what?”

Steve sighs. “No, Robin. I did not tell him about the threesome.”

“…oops.”

“When?” Eddie demands. 

Robin gives him the evil eye. “Why are you being weird about this? It’s not gonna make him fuck you.”

Steve wisely keeps his mouth shut. 

Eddie does not. “Your boy here already asked,” he smirks, leaning closer. “I said no.”

Then, as an added punch to his ego, he twirls a strand of Steve’s hair around his finger and tugs slightly. Steve’s too stunned to protest. 

Robin watches the exchange. “Oh, no thank you,” she says. “Nope. I’m out. I don’t want to see whatever this is. Ugh, stop making me hear about your sex life.”

Hypocrite. “We have thin walls, Buckley,” Steve reminds her. He turns to Eddie and stage whispers, “She likes her girls loud.”

“Steve!”

“You do!”

“Oh, because you’re so quiet,” she snaps, smacking him. “How many times have I had to bang on the wall because you couldn’t keep it down? You wanna talk about loud? I know more about you than I ever wanted to.”

His mouth drops open in mortification. “You know it’s rude to be mean to the man who told you how to eat out,” he hisses. 

“I’m not dying without fucking Eddie Munson,” he declares. “I mean, his high school nickname was literally ‘The Freak.’ He’s got to be good in bed, right?”

“I think that was mostly because everyone thought he was communing with the Devil or something.”

“Maybe the Devil gave him sex magic.”

“Of course he thinks I’m cute.”

“I do?”

“Do you not?” Steve turns to him, widening his eyes in the same pout that always has Robin throwing something at his face, or the kids reluctantly agreeing to do what he wants. He’s found it’s useful for guys too, especially if he ducks his head to seem smaller and looks through his eyelashes. Makes them imagine him looking like that on his knees. 

Munson is no exception. He melts faster than Steve can say gotcha. “You’re very cute, Harrington,” he purrs, and Robin snorts into her drink. 

“You’re a weak, weak man, Eddie Munson,” she tells a blushing Eddie. Then she kicks Steve. “Stop bringing out the ‘fuck me’ eyes when I’m around, I’ll gag.”

“You could leave.”

She gasps, affronted, and kicks him harder.

“So you would fuck me if I wasn’t drunk?”

“Uh…” he looks everywhere but Steve’s face, which is just rude. He has a very nice face. He’s been called dreamy before. 

Which made Robin laugh so hard she fell off the couch when he told her, but he’ll take the lesbian’s opinion with a grain of salt. 

He makes his way onto the dance floor. He’s not a particularly good dancer, but he shakes his ass like he means it. Gets up close with a guy, stares at Eddie the whole time. Keeping eye contact as the guy puts his hands on his hips. 

Look, he means to say. This could be you. You could lose your chance if you’re not careful. 

From the burning in Eddie’s eyes, he gets the message. 

The message is a bunch of bullshit. It’s been over four months, he’s in too deep to go fuck off with someone else now. Still, he enjoys the way Eddie’s hands flex on his thighs, like he had to stop himself from reaching out. 

The thing is, Steve’s not an asshole. He can take a hint. No means no, and all that jazz. If Eddie really didn’t want him, he’d fuck right off and find someone who did. He even started to.

Except Eddie pouted up a storm when he flirted with someone else. Got even clingier when Steve tried to back off. At this point, he’s accepted that Eddie does want to fuck him, and maybe even be more (no one flirts with someone as long as they’ve been doing without wanting something like a relationship out of it. At least, he hopes there’s something more on the horizon), but has some weird hang up about Steve being even a little bit buzzed when it happens. Even though they only ever see each other at this fucking bar.

The problem is Steve has no idea when Eddie will be at the bar. He’ll stay sober one night, hoping to see him, and then go home alone only for next time to be when he sees telltale curls and a wide smile. It’s driving him up the wall. 

Robin has been similarly affected.

“It’s been six months,” she growls as Steve looks eagerly around. “Six fucking months of you two dancing around in the worlds most annoying mating ritual. I’m going to kill both of you.”

“We’re not that bad,” he says absently. 

“You don’t even have his phone number. It’s pathetic. I swear to God, if you see him again and don’t get laid I’m reviving the scoops board. I will go out and buy a whiteboard to keep track of all the times you strike out with a man who used to walk on tables. He stepped on my lunch, Steve. Do I need to keep bringing up the fact he stepped on my delicious, nutritious PB&J? I can’t believe that’s the guy you decide to be obsessed with, that’s so fucking embarrassing for you.”

“Embarrassing? You mean like your crush on my ex girlfriend?”

She screeches wordlessly, pulling her keychain off her belt loop and attacking him with it. 

Naturally, that’s how Eddie finds them. 

“I swear you guys get weirder every time I see you.”

Steve grins guilelessly at him, holding a flailing Robin in a headlock. 

“Eddie! Hey! It’s been a minute.” He hasn’t been able to come in a month, and it’s been longer since he’s seen him. It’s honestly one of the deciding factors on whether it’s a passing fancy or a full blown crush. He still went to sleep every night thinking about Eddie. It didn’t even have to be about sex. 

Although maybe not sleeping with anyone else for half a year should have tipped him off sooner. 

“Sure has, big boy. I was starting to think you were getting sick of me.” It’s a joke, but Steve catches an undercurrent of insecurity. 

“That’d make my life easier,” Robin snorts. She finally wiggles her way out of his hold. “I saw Arty somewhere around here, I’m gonna see if I can crash at her place tonight.” She levels Eddie with a look. “He hasn’t had anything to drink. If you don’t put him out of his misery, I will. And it won’t be the good kind. It will be the bad kind. With bad screams. Lots of screaming, and someone will call the pigs, and I’ll be arrested and jailed for life. Do you want me to go to jail, Munson?”

Eddie shakes his head dumbly. 

“Good! Then do something about it.” She slaps Steve’s back, a mocking echo of his jock days. “Go get ‘em, slugger!” 

With that, she’s gone, disappearing into the crowd. 

“She is,” Steve remarks with amusement, “the worst wingman on planet Earth. Mars too, probably.”

“I dunno, I think it might be working.”

“I’m not doing anything without a condom,” he says, eyes narrowed like he’s waiting for an argument. 

“Me neither,” Steve agrees. “Robin has, like, this big fear of diseases. Totally got me with it. She pulled out the library books, those pictures were fucking disgusting. Shit showed up in my dreams, man. Neither of us do anything without protection.”

“I’m going to be totally honest with you, because I haven’t been and it’s starting to eat at me,” Eddie says, hovering above Steve. 

Steve wrinkles his nose. “What is it? Are you a spy or something? Are you Russian? Do you have superpowers? Is your name not actually Eddie?” He pauses. “Oh, God, you’re not even Eddie Munson, are you? I’m just some asshole who’s been calling you by my old classmates name and you were too embarrassed to correct me. Shit, we made so much fun of you for walking on tables too—“

“What?” Eddie covers his mouth, expression hovering between amused and baffled. “What the fuck, why would I go along with that? No, Jesus, I’m Eddie Munson. Moved to Hawkins when I was eleven, took senior year three times, walked on the fucking tables, could you let that go?” He moves the hand covering Steve’s mouth to play with his hair, looking annoyed for a minute before it smoothes to trepidation. “No, I, uh, I just felt like I needed to tell you that I used to have a hate-boner for you in high school. Like, I used to jack it to the thought of kicking your ass and making a mess outta you. In more ways than one.”

Steve stares. 

“Also, that’s kind of why I approached you in the bar in the first place,” Eddie blabbers on. “And then you said you were just there for a friend, and I was disappointed but it’s whatever, yanno? And then then you told me about your dad, and threw my expectations to the fucking wolves, and then you asked me to come up to your apartment except you were drunk and you probably didn’t mean it. But then the next time I saw you, you kept flirting with me, which you were not supposed to do, and I kept pretending that wasn’t the reason I even talked to you in the first place, and, uh, yeah.” He smiles nervously. “Surprise?”

“I mean, not really.”

“You’re such an asshole, fuck off. At least pretend to be shocked.”

“It’s not my fault you stare at my legs all the time,” Steve says, affronted. “I know I didn’t do too good in school, but I’m not dumb enough to miss that. Like, hello, my eyes are up here.”

Eddie lets his arms give out, flopping on top of Steve heavily. Steve wheezes. “Am I really that obvious?” He whines into his shoulder. 

“You got sad and pouty when I even looked at another guy.”

“You could’ve fucked him,” he mumbles. “The guy you were dancing with. It wasn’t any of my business. I’m a big boy, I can deal.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to fuck him,” Steve says. “I wanted to fuck you. Can we go back to that please?”

“Thought I was fucking you.”

“Someone’s getting fucked or Robin will kill both of us. I’d like to live tomorrow morning. And not have to deal with any more of her teasing for having no game.”

“You have unfortunate amounts of game,” Eddie sighs, tracing the side of Steve’s neck. It tickles. “It’s kind of embarrassing for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, are we using those condoms or not, Moodkiller?”

“Oh, I’m the mood killer?”

“Yes,” Steve says matter of factly, and pulls him in for a kiss before he can protest.

[footiecent]

not your fault

(emily fox x reader)

in which you're obsessed with your girlfriend (especially her jawline)

warnings: slightly suggestive? almost all fluff

word count: 1.1k

It's not your fault. Really, it's not.

“Baby, don’t you have to get up soon?”

You hum in reply, half asleep. 

You’re so comfortable. Your head is tucked protectively into the crook of your girlfriend’s left shoulder and neck while you lie almost entirely on top of her, the covers burying the both of you into a warm, delightful cocoon. Emily’s left hand is slowly moving up and down your back, and everything is just perfect.

“You can’t be late for work again.”

You open your eyes at that, but at the first moment you start to untangle your arms from her waist and feel her body heat dissipate, you realize that maybe you can stay for just another minute.

So, you decide to flop back down. Though, you’ve at least managed to roll your upper body partially off of her, giving you a perfect view of her side profile as she closes her eyes, not having to get up for practice for another half-hour. 

You can’t help but to reach out your hand and run your thumb along her sharp jawline—mind assaulted by memories of the night before when you see the marks littered below it.

Damn. She’s gonna kill me, you think. She’s told you so many times that covering hickies up before practices is a bitch, and looking at these marks—ones that might be a few too many shades past concealable—you realize you’re fucked. 

You start to analyze the best plan of action, landing on one that has you placing a gentle kiss onto her jaw before springing up from bed and hurriedly walking to the bathroom to wash up. All you have to do is leave before she gets up. Easy work. Easy peasy…

You’re so close—you’re at the door, knelt down with one shoe on when you hear her.

“Y/N! Come on!” she yells. 

Yikes.

You manage to put your other shoe on right as she appears in your vision, very clearly ticked off. 

“It’s not my fault?” you try, walking towards your very beautiful, and very pissed girlfriend.

“Oh, so it’s my fault I have to cover these up?” she says, pushing your shoulder when you stand in front of her.

Looking at her face, you decide that telling her you literally just look so incredible at every moment it’s not my fault you’re mine and I can’t help it would not exactly help your case. So, you decide to resume your quick exit, quickly kissing her cheek and saying, “Have a good practice babe, I love you!” as you grab your keys and leave your shared flat. 

You do make a mental note to buy Emily’s favorite chocolates after work. 

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

Like really, it's her fault. Who gave her the right to look that good after a game?

You’re reminded that you’re always completely in the right when you’re sitting at the Emirates two days later, watching your girlfriend wrap up a defensive masterclass against Chelsea. For the first time in a while, London is sunny, and the beautiful weather only adds onto the incredible mood in the stadium as the full-time whistle blows and cheers thunder throughout every corner.

You can’t help but stare at her while she celebrates with the rest of the team. Lotte likes to joke that the two of you could melt taffy with just one of your lovesick glances, but you can’t help it. It's her fault for looking so good after a game—sweaty, smiley, and positively glowing after helping her team to a win. 

She spends time walking around the stadium, signing autographs and taking pictures, while you chat absentmindedly with Alessia, who came to greet you before starting her rounds of the stadium. But when Emily finally makes her way towards you—lifting her shirt up to try and wipe some sweat off her face—you start thinking about your plans for after. Alessia catches your change in demeanor, rolling her eyes and walking away while muttering something under her breath. 

“Did you enjoy the game?” your girlfriend asks, stepping in front of you, grinning from ear to ear. You both look disgustingly in love as the sun shines down and highlights her vibrant smile. 

“Of course I did. How could I not, superstar?” 

Being in the stands means you hover tall over Emily, enabling you to comfortably wrap your arms around her neck as she looks up at you. You ignore the few stares that direct their way towards you two as you relentlessly press kisses onto her jawline and cheek. She’s laughing as she playfully tries to shove you away, but you can’t help but hold her a little tighter and whisper just how excited you are to get home. 

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

So, she should stop getting annoyed. She should know that you’ll never truly be satisfied. 

Your watch reads ‘8 P.M.’ as you cuddle up to Emily’s side on the white couch in your living room. The two of you had rushed home from the afternoon game, unable to resist the allure of enjoying each other’s company for a few hours.

And now, after redressing yourselves, cooking and eating dinner, washing the dishes, and tidying up the kitchen, the two of you are sitting together, more innocently enjoying each other’s company. She has a book out while you scroll mindlessly through Twitter, poking her side every few minutes to draw her attention to a funny tweet. 

After thirty minutes, however, Emily is deeply immersed into her reading and you’re bored. So, you resort to beginning your favorite activity: staring at her. You look up at her while your head rests against her arm, and you’re still mesmerized by her beauty even years into your relationship.

“What?” she asks without looking away from her book.

“You’re hot.”

She dismisses the comment with a small snicker, but places a kiss onto your forehead regardless. 

“We already fucked today, let me read in peace.”

You huff, but the both of you are well-aware that you aren’t deterred by small obstacles. So naturally, you begin to press a few open-mouthed kisses right below her jaw. She indulges you for a moment, closing her eyes and letting her book rest on her lap. But when a kiss turns into a stinging bite, she opens her eyes and grabs your shoulder. 

“C’mon, stop it. I have to go in for recovery tomorrow, you know that,” she whines. “I already stopped you from leaving marks once today!”

But she should know that you simply can’t help yourself. She should’ve known that you were going to toss away her book from her other hand, grab her wrists, and straddle her lap. She really should know that the stern look she sends you—with her jaw clenched, almost sharpened—while sitting underneath you only makes her hotter. 

She should’ve known that she was going to wake up the next morning with quite a few more marks. 

After all, it's not your fault. 

[bearieio]

sleepytime codmw2 headcanons for all my fellow crazy sleepers out there \(◕‿◕)

warnings: anything sleep-related, fluff; sfw, “crazy” sleeper!reader, gender neutral!reader; no prns, just you your(s), and you’re”

characters: könig, simon “ghost” riley, johnny “soap” mactavish, captain john price, alejandro vargas

a/n: inspiration taken from jaennwrites and empresskylo !! hopefully my headcanons aren’t exactly like theirs similar! but i liked a lot of theirs and implicated them into this post ;) this is MOSTLY proofread... but idk D’:

the first time you and simon slept together, you woke up in the most peculiar position. simon was placed on the far left, while you were on the far right.

 when you turn to face him, he’s laid flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, already awake. “you move.. so much in your sleep, d’y’know that?” he angles his head to look at you, slightly irritated (emphasis on slightly). voice hoarse and tired as if he’d not even got so much as a blink during the night.

you groan and move closer to him, “you’re so dramatic, simon.” snuggling into you, he scoffed, “yeah right. i should record you when you’re knocked out. then we’ll see who’s really the dramatic one.”

 the act of actually falling asleep together is a bit less… “lively,” as he describes it. 

you and ghost, curled up together on the sofa, quietly drifting into slumber. wrapping you up in his arms, he holds you tight, not wanting you to escape his grasp with how much you squirm and wiggle in during your naps. shallow and slow breaths coming from the two of you. as the minutes passed, you both slip into a calm hush, closing your eyes you can hear the sound of simon’s heart. steady, quiet, and consistant.

soap has a photo album dedicated to the “absolutely insane” positions he finds you in when he comes home. 

“look- here’s the one of you with your foot on the nightstand- AND- here’s the one where your entire lower half isn’t even on the bed-“ you gasp at the grisly photos, a shocked look on your face.

“what?? you thought i was lying when i said that you looked literally unhinged when i come home to you asleep?”

moving you to the other side of the bed was no problem partially because you didn’t mind and partially because he’s done it so many times. grabbing you by the ankles, the arms, anything that was in arms length, was usually being moved to the other side of the bed.

more times than not, it was done all for naught because when it was time for the two of you to get up, you were almost always on top of him, in your gnarly positions. 

price is always the one to fall asleep (and wake up) first while cuddling together. like a 6th sense, he’s always aware of when you’re moving or trying to get up from the bed or the couch.. wherever you both had decided to rest.

"where do you think you’re goin’, little munchkin?” he grumbles, tightening his grip on you “trying to escape so soon?”

he never minds when he finds one of your limbs on top of him in the mornings. gently moving your arms, legs, or your body from his. 

waking up earlier than you, he never likes to leave without leaving you something whether it’s a note of his whereabouts, a cup of tea (or coffee if you prefer it), or maybe a bagel or toast if he has time to do so. 

when you both are cuddled up on the couch, your head laid against his chest (your back facing his chest). he strokes your hair (or body if you don’t want your hair being touched! he understands.), traces his fingertips along your arms and legs, and occasionally hums to you as you fall asleep in his arms. 

or if you’re resting against him (your chest facing his), he’d be rubbing your back, the back of your head, and hugging you, keeping you as close to him as physically possible. placing kisses on your head and forehead every now and again. 

alejandro literally cannot sleep without you. he might fall asleep here and there, but he cannot stay asleep for very long without you. 

you being there puts his mind at ease and allows him to truly relax, with not a care in the world about anything else… other than you :’)

he definitely wakes up throughout the night to make sure you’re still in his arms. or at least lying next to him. 

the one time he wakes up and you’re not next to him, the first place he checks is the bathroom. checking under the underside of the bathroom door and not seeing the light glowing from it, he practically bolts down the hallway, checking the kitchen.

“woah- woah! slow down alejandro!” you shout, startled by the way he came rushing into the kitchen, almost causing you to drink your cup of water. 

“perdóname mija, i didn’t mean to scare you. i just-“ he draws long breath, taking your hand in his. “i couldn’t find you, mija.” you grip his hand and take a sip of your water, smiling at his concern.

"c'mon, let's go back to bed, cariño."

because of the sheer size of könig, the size of the mattress that you two share is insane. 

“a....wyoming king, i think they call it,” you tell him. he looks at you, sorta puzzled, but mostly happy that you guys have a bed that you both can share :)

the nights he finds you in the most ridiculous positions, he does not have the ability to contain himself. “ah.. schatz, how can you sleep in such a absurd position?” he says, lightly bringing his hand down onto your backside. 

you groan and roll over to the middle of the bed, allowing him to climb in next to you.

the both of you are completely different when it comes to how much you guys move during the night. könig is as calm and as still as the mountain he is, you on the other hand, are the wind, the clouds, and the animals on and around the mountain. both climbing on top of him and around the large bed you share with said mountain. 

when könig just so happens to wake up in the morning he can’t help but smile and wrap you up in his arms, rubbing your back and listening to your slow and tranquil breathing against him.

pt 2 w/ gaz!

[taffycandyqt]

hey so how badly do you think the rottmnt boys would be easily persuaded into things by their s/o? Who has self control and who throws caution to the wind for their s/o? Like their s/o is not manipulating or anything. Just like “No! I’m not joining”. “*genuine sad understanding doe eyes* If you’re sure, I wanted you to be the one to come with me though since I love you so much and I’d feel better with you there, but if you’re uncomfortable, it’s ok” if their boyfriend changes their mind, s/o is confused at the sudden change but look ecstatic? Or like they make their boyfriend angry and s/o is like “I did that? I’m sorry. I didn’t realise *genuine sad doe eyes. Makes it very hard to stay mad at*”?

Honestly, the rise boys are all so hungry for affection in their own ways. I feel like they are all pretty weak to their sweet little s/o. Also the one shots aren't exactly the best example of the headcannons but I was STRUGGLING so this is the best I got.

Weak in the Knees

Rise turtles (separately) x reader

How easily can you persuade them using your irresistible charm??

Warnings: Mentions of shooting as a hyperbole to emphasize a point. Not explicit. No deaths. Only in Donnies. Angst? ends happy so its fine

Established relationship

Fluff, crack

Donnie:

We all know Donnie is a sucker for praise.

You ask him to do something stupid or dangerous with you it will be a no.

You want him to step away from his work for a break? absolutely not.

You want him to accompany you to Witch town. ARE YOU CRAZY?

Buuuuuut. If you just so happen to have thrown out a couple compliments his way beforehand.

It will almost immediately be a yes or a "Sigh! I suppose!"

Let's be honest here too, there is a lot to compliment Donnie on.

You praise him for his work, a gift he gave you, helping you, or for literally anything he is already wrapped around your finger.

But if you praise him and then add a little kiss on the cheek or hand. Maybe a small hug?

He would literally let you shoot him if that's what you wanted.

Bro is so in love with you it's not even funny.

Not to say he doesn't draw the line somewhere. No bees. No spiders. And NO BEACH BALLS.

Oh and nothing that could phically harm you in any way.

He ain't about to let you get hurt on his watch.

It doesn't matter how many times you call him the most handsomest genius boy and kiss his nose, you are not diving off the empire state building for him to catch you mid air.

"Donnnnnnnniiieeeeeee!" you slumped towards him as you drew out his name. After you got to him you rested your head on his battle shell. Your hands were positioned on either side of your head laying flat on his shell as well.

"Yes my dear?" He chirped. He wasn't very good at initiating physical touch. Don't get me wrong, he tried, he just let his Donnie overthink get the best of him more often then not. So when you initiated, it was very welcome.

"I looooove youuu." You answered him, "your the sweetest boy I've ever met, did you know that?"

This got Donnie to set his tools down real quick. You always liked to compliment him at random times. At first he thought there was a reason behind it. You wanted something, you wanted to get away with something, you wanted him to forgive you, ect. But no matter how many times he conducted the experiment. No matter the duration of time it took. The results were always purely random. You did it simply because you wanted to tell him how much he meant to you.

And honestly, it was his favorite thing in the world. The only problem was that it would always catch him off guard. There was no consistency to your charming onslaught so it was always left as a surprise till the very last minute. His face burned red as he proceeded to just stare at his work, trying to look like he's trying to figure something out.

"I'm not sure. You say I'm a lot of things," he tried to keep his voice even as he spoke to you.

"Well it's true! Your the sweetest, smartest, and most perfect boyfriend ever and your my absolute favorite."

At this point Donnie was trying to hard not to happy stim. Not because he's not comfortable stimming around you, infact he does it all the time. The thing is, even after all this time he still wanted come off as a cool, emotionally unavailable bad boy. What he conveniently doesn't remember is that he's already willing done things that counter that image. You don't need to tell him that though.

"Thank you dear. You're quite lovely yourself," he told you. He folded his arms and sat stiffly trying to keep his stimming under control, eventually opting for some speedy finger tapping.

"Awwwwwww, thank you my love!!" you said as you finally lifted your head off his back to lean over and kiss his cheek.

This caused him to jerk in his chair and mess with the weight distribution resulting in him tipping and falling right on the floor. Instinctively he reached for the table in an attempt to break his fall. Unfortunately, he ended up grabbing his current project instead. As Donnie fell a component of his invention was ripped from it's position and landed on the floor beside him.

"Oh mi gosh! Are you okay?!" you rushed to Donnie's aid and helped him off the floor.

"I'm alright, thank you," he smiled at you softly and went to pick up his chair.

"I was just caught off guard is all," he told you, but as he bends down to grab the chair he noticed the crucial piece of his latest invention laying off to the side of it.

"GASP! Nonononono!" he picked up the piece and scrambled to his work desk to inspect the damage.

"Nooo!!" He wined in frustration. He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index as he tried to calm himself down.

"Donnie? What's wrong?" You asked as you inched your way to his side.

"THIS!" he exclaimed shoving the broken piece in your direction before dropping his arm and turning away from his project to pace around the room.

"I'VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR WEEKS AND NOW I HAVE TO BACKTRACK AND REDO DAYS OF WORK! ALL BECAUSE YOU-" he stopped talking immediately when he say your face. He had originally turned to look back at you in order to emphasize his frustration. Seeing the look on your face though, made him instantly regret letting his frustration get the better of him.

"I- I'm sorry. I- didn't mean for that... I just wanted to... um..." you were on the verge of tears and couldn't think of anything to say that would fix the issue. So you just clasped your hands together and looked to the floor.

"I'm sorry," is what you eventually settled on.

"No! no, I'm sorry," Donnie told you as he approached and grabbed your shoulder while placing the other in his chest. He leaned his head down in an attempt to catch your eye as you kept your eyes locked on the ground.

"I shouldn't have yelled like that, and besides it wasn't your fault anyways. I was the one being careless in the first place." He eventually placed his and on your other shoulder and leaned down more, practically begging for you to look at him. When you did, your eyes were big and glossy with tears that streaked on your cheeks.

"I shouldn't have distracted you," your responded and you looked back to the floor.

"No, hey, your not a distraction," he told you in a gentle voice. He stood up straight and pulled you into a firm hug, burying his snout in your hair.

"Your the best thing that happened to me. Your never a distraction," he was really hoping this got through to you.

"Really?" You sniffed.

"Really really. Two reallys," he told you. With that you adjusted to wrap your arms around him and then lay you chin in his plastron.

"Do you think ice cream would make you feel better?" you asked.

"Me feel better?" he questioned. You were the hurt one, you were the one crying. Why were you concerned about his feelings?

"Even if you think it's not my fault, no doubt you're still upset with the amount of work you have to redo," you explained, "and ice cream always makes me feel better. So would ice cream make you feel better?"

He gave you a small laugh and traded the hug to hold your hand.

"Firstly, it's not your fault," he spoke matter-a-factly while waving his other hand around dramatically, "And secondly, ice cream sounds delightful."

So with that you both made your way to the kitchen. Donnie ended up not eating any ice cream at all and instead opted for flavorless juice. He was happy enough watching you eat your ice cream with a big smile plastered on your face.

Did he have a lot of work to redo? Yes. But as long as your there it might not feel as long. He might have to make a 'no flattery while one is working in the lab' rule though. For safety.

Leo:

Remember how Donnie had a line? Yeah, no Leo doesn't have that.

Due to this, and his already mischievous nature, you can already get him to do pretty much anything just by asking.

However he does have a responsible mood. If he's in that mood nothing will work.

you know what I mean. Like how he acts in the movie while their driving in the turtle tank?

like that, just without the internal and external issues clouding his judgment.

It's s not a bad mood, it's just not good for getting what you want.

Lucky for you he's not usually in that mood, and if he is it's usually not so bad that you can't bring I'm out of it.

That being said Leo, like the rest of his brothers, needs praise so badly that it's kinda sad.

Any praise will work but if you want him to do something absolutely idiotic to the point that even he thinks so? Your gonna need to make him feel ✨special✨

Your gonna need to pull out the my man, my champion, special man, and perfect baby.

Names like that, that make him feel like a million bucks.

If he's showing off to you, one compliment will butter that sucker up like you wouldn't believe.

He would literally do anything for you, it's not even funny, bro has no standards.

"Y/n! Hey! Hey! Y/n look! Look at this sick trick!" Leo called to you from atop their indoor skating ramp. You were on the floor below talking with April while Leo skated.

"Okay sweets I'm watching!" You call back to give him the go ahead.

With that Leo was off down the ramp. As he came up the other side and was propelled in the air he flipped the skateboard from beneath him and then landed perfectly on top as gravity pulled them back to the surface. When he came back up the other side Leo jumped off the board and looked down at you with a big grin on his face.

You and April clapped and he came down to meet you.

"What did you think??"

"I think that was awesome. Your my talented man for sure," you told him sweetly as you kissed him on the cheek. Leo blushed slightly at this before puffing his chest out and holding his skateboard all cool guy like at his hip. He used his other hand to point at himself with his thumb.

"Well not everyone can be as skilled as ah-THIS!" He boasted while punctuating his sentence with a dab.

"Okay, Mr. Talented," April teased, "If your done I'd like to tell you the reason I stopped by today."

"What?" Leo said with fake shock, "You visited for a different reason other than admiring my rad skills?"

"Impossible I know," she snarked to play along with him.

"So what's up April?" You asked.

"I was working my new job as a part time graveyard day guard and I saw this totally creepy and totally abandoned house right outside my post!"

"April if you're about to tell us you saw a ghost," Leo told her.

"No! But I DID want to find out if there COULD be ghosts in there."

"Why are you telling us this?" You ask.

"Because, I'm not gonna trespass on abandoned property by myself. That's just asking to be kidnapped," she answered while folding her arms.

"I don't know April, I better stay here and keep practicing my skating skillzz, right y/n?" Leo said.

"Well I think it sounds cool April! I'd be so down to go with you!"

"Heck yeah! Girls trip!"

You two high fived and right as you hands made contact Leo popped up in-between the both of you and clasped yours and April's hands together with his own.

"Though I suppose it would be unbecoming of me to not do my chivalrous duty to you both and tag along as a safety precaution."

April looked unimpressed at Leo's forced attempt to be cool in front of you whilst also begging for your attention. As you and April let your hands down Leo's went with them and you took his empty palm in yours shooting him a soft smile.

"So what time did you have in mind?"

"Oh, I was thinking like right now if y'all aren't busy," April told you.

"Sounds good to me, come on Leon!" You said as you dragged Leo to the Lair exit.

-

Apon getting to the building it was abundantly clear that it was very abandoned and very illegal to trespass. A rusted chain link fence surrounded the building with warning signs plastered all around it. Though, it was to dark to clearly read them without a flashlight.

"Uhh, guys?" Leo started, "Are you sure we should go in there? There are way too many signs around this place for them all to be just 'no trespassing' signs,"

"Do I hear someone who is scaaaaared?" Teased April. This prompted an offended gasp from Leo who put a hand to his chest.

"SCARED?! HA! I'll show you who's scared," he snarked at her before opening a portal to bypass the fence straight to the front door. He gestures for you and April to enter first. Before you followed April in you turned to Leo.

"Everything will be fine, and if something does go wrong I know you could bail us out," you smiled sweetly at him and then stepped into the portal. Leo straightened up and blushed, then sauntered confidently through the portal after you. It felt good to know you trusted him so much.

As all three of you stood at the front door you heard the sounds of the house creaking on the inside. The old wood constantly fighting to stay upright. April pushed open the door with a loud creak and shinned her light into the entry. It was dark and messy. A brownish carpet greeted you along with a broken sidebar cabinet. stairs leading up to the second floor were covered in dirt and old enough to be one big splinter. Next to the stairs was an entrance to a different room. There were also different rooms on either side of you as well. As you all shines your lights to get a better look you could see the dust particles littering the air.

"I'm gonna go investigate upstairs!" April told you before disappearing to the second floor. Leo had gravitates towards the right side entryway before turning to you and gesturing for you to follow him.

"I think this is the kitchen," he said, turning his head back. You filled him as you both inspected the room. You broke looked around and noticed some light scratching sounds coming from what you assumed to be the pantry. As you opened the door the smell of rotten food and crap hit your face and you immediately gagged. You plugged your nose with your hand and you used the other to direct the flashlight. You didn't look around for long though as you saw a small, fast moving figure rush past your foot. You let out a short yelp as you stumbled backwards and out of the pantry slamming the door shut.

In an instant Leo was by your side.

"What?! What happened?! Are you okay?!" he gave you a once over looking for any injuries you could have procured.

"Yes! Yes," you sighed out patting his shoulder, "I'm okay, just a... rat. Or something,"

"Okay. Umm, just stick close to me for now ok?" He asked you. He was clearly a little nervous, about what exactly though you couldn't say. He grabbed your hand as you both made your way out of the kitchen.

"You've been hearing those sounds too right?" He asks as he turns to you. You both stop under the archway separating the kitchen and the entryway.

"W- what sounds?" This was, admittedly, making you a little nervous yourself now.

"The scratching. Like something's in the walls," he said in a hushed voice as he squoze your hand. You didn't at first but as you sat and listened, sure enough. Scratching. Or... Scurrying? It wasn't consistent but it happened often enough.

"Yeah," you answered in the same muted tone.

"I think we should leave," Leo told you, "Whatever this houses issue is it's not gonna be ours. Let's grab April and VAMINOS."

Before you two could take more that a stepp up the stairs you hear a loud crash and the house starts to rumble. April begins to scream and you can hear her rushed footsteps against the floor and as you both try to find her you ended meeting her at the top of the stairs.

"RUUUUN!! GO GO GO!" she yelled at you. She pushed you both aside and grabbed Leo by his mask tails to pull him along. Before you two started running though, you see what April was running from. I giant hord of mutant silverfish. They took up the entire hallway from floor to ceiling and they did NOT look happy.

As Leo was being tugged along by April you were tugged by Leo who still hadn't let go of your hand. In trying to position his body to run forward easier and April still holding on to his mask tails, it ended up turning his mask on backwards and obscuring his view. As all three of you exited the house Leo tripped out the door on top of April causing you to fall on top of him.

"LEO PORTAL! PORTAL NOW!" April yelled at him.

"I CAN'T FIND MY SWORD!" he told her frantically trying to fix his mask so he could see.

"HERE TAKE IT!" you said handing it to him. The silver fish where almost in top of you by the time Leo took the sword in his hands. With a swift swing of his sword the portal was opened and all three of you stumbled through it closing right as the silverfish burst out the door.

All three of you lay on the ground between where the two skate ramps met, panting and trying to gather yourselves.

"Everyone okay?" April asked out of breath.

"Yeah," you breathed out.

"All good here," Leo puffed.

"Great..." April sat up sluggishly, "I'm gonna head out then, see ya."

And with that she stood up and left the lair. You both waved her off best you could from the ground. You both just laid there for a while catching your breaths.

"Let's never do that again," Leo said after a while.

"I don't know, I kinda had fun," you told him.

"You have got to be kidding me," he looked over at you unimpressed.

"Ya know... I saw this abandoned processing plant a couple days ago," you said turning your head to look back at him.

"Y/n. We almost died."

"And now we know to be prepared for hords of mutant silverfish," you looked at him, "Please?"

"Uuugggg. FINE. But not for a while, I need a break from whatever the heck today was," he told you.

"Sounds good to me!" You chirped and cuddled into his side.

"Yeah yeah," he playfully rolled his eyes and wrapped a lazy arm around you.

Mikey:

Oh he is just the sweetest little buttercup to you.<3

Surprisingly though, he also is the hardest to persuade.

I mean come on, doctor delicate touch loves you but he will be quick to tell you why a certain idea is....... not so great.

That being said if you get really sad about him saying no he will do everything in his power to make you happy.

He'll make your favorite food, watch your favorite movie, play your favorite game, whatever you want that isn't the first thing that you wanted.

Out of all brothers, Mikey is the one who need praise at the most normal amount.

You guys will probably have compliment competitions while cuddling.

So safe to say praise isn't going to get this dude to do stuff for you.

However, Mikey is able to see how his brothers feel like they can't fully express their feelings and wants them to feel safe enough to do so.

Frankly he wants everyone to feel comfortable enough around him to express their true thoughts and feelings.

So if you are the kind of person to emotionally shut down or pretend like everything is fine when it's not?

He will be a bit more willing to do stuff for you.

Again, there is a line. A straight cut no exceptions line.

Buuuuuut he might be willing to find a couple loop holes just so that his darling can feel better.

Piece of advice tho, don't push it. If he feels like you don't respect his boundaries that's gonna be a whole other issue.

"Hey Mikey!" you chirp as you enter his room, "What'ca up to?"

Mikey looked up at you from the floor, you could see the canvas in front of him and got increasingly excited to see what he was putting together.

"Oh just paintin', like one does," he tells you with a cheeky smile.

"Okaaaaay," you smile back, playing along, "What'ca paintin'?"

At this Mikey looked to his right and then his left, like he was scoping out the area for spies. Except it made less sense since it was his room. Then he looked back up at you and gestured for you to come join him with his hand.

You sat down on the floor and cozied up next to your boyfriend to which he revealed his masterpiece. It was a family portrait of Splinter and his brothers from when they were younger.

"We took this picture a couple years back," he handed you a small photo, "it was always dads favorite so I'm painting it for his birthday!"

"That's so sweet Mikey!"

He smiled and blushed at the compliment. You turned back to the painting. It was beautiful. It was the same picture but Mikey had taken some creative liberties with the colors. They were bright, vibrant, and harmonious. The painting felt like it was buzzing with energy because of it. It felt warm and inviting and at the same time unpredictable. The way the lines, colors, and textures went together, it almost made the painting feel alive, and it was hypnotizing.

"It looks like you've finished, right?" you ask, turning back to him.

"Almost!" He perks, "I just have to add a few finishing touches and it will be done!"

"Weeeeeeelllll," you said mischievously, "Since they're just finishing touches, maybe I could help."

One of the first things that people find out when they meet you is that you suck butt at art. When you met Mikey he tried SO HARD to teach you but no matter how hard you tried it just never clicked. You always saw it as a cute 'opposites attract' sort of thing honestly. The proficient artist and the one who couldn't draw a dot right it they tried. How romantic.

So when your little tease entered the space Mikey knew exactly what you were trying to do.

"Oh no no no my dear," he played along, "You see, I feel your artistic talents are needed else where."

"Else where?" you questioned with big doe eyes feigning innocence.

"Yes. Else where," he told you again, still with his playful expression.

"You mean," you picked up one of his used paint brushes, "HERE! you said as you lunged forward attempting to pin him down in order to paint his face. Attempting.

"NO NOT HERE!" he giggled trying to keep the paint brush from making contact with his face. He had been mostly successful but you still managed to land a couple good swipes.

You both continued to wrestle and giggle as time went on. At one point Mikey flipped you both so he was the one pinning you and reached for a paint brush of his own. You managed to wiggle free in the nick of time and this led to you both running around his room with paint brushes in hand. Every now and again one of you would corner the other, but the other would always manage to escape leading to the chase once again. At one point you realized that you might be able to catch Mikey off guard. You see, outside of cornering each other, all you guy have really done is chase the other and try catch them.

So in a moment of what you deemed to be 'brilliance' you took an abrupt stop and made a sharp turn on your heel to face him. However, that resulted in Mikey crashing right into you and you both falling straight to the floor.

"OH ME GOSH! Are you okay y/n?!" he scrambled to get off you quickly and inspect any possible damage to your person.

"Yeah, I'm okay, I think. Just landed on something hard," you told him as you picked yourself up.

When you looked back at him there was an expression on his face that could only be described as soul crushing horror. You were so confused, and concerned until you followed his line of sight and saw exactly what you landed on.

His painting.

His super sentimental and lovingly handcrafted painting meant as a GIFT FOR HIS FATHER. and now, there was a hole straight through it. Not a small one at that. Not to mention some of the paint was still wet and had gotten smeared and smushed at the impact. There was absolutely no salvaging this painting.

"Oh Mikey I am so sorry," you were horrified at what you had caused. Mikey didn't look at you, he didn't respond either. He walked towards to ruined canvas and slowly knelt down to pick it up.

"I- I didn't mean for this to happen Mikey I'm-" he cut you off.

"Can you please go? We'll talk later, I just need to be alone right now," still without looking at you. You were so heartbroken you had to hold in your tears.

"Okay," you told him in a shaky breath. You left the lair that night, and for the first time since you've known the guys, you left in a considerably worse mood then what you had when you got there.

The look on Mikey's face haunted you that night. You hate to think that you were the one to cause that pain. You were the one that hurt him. You wanted to make it up to him but you didn't know how. It's not like you could remake the painting for him. Heck you couldn't even paint!

You decided it would be best to stay away from the lair until Mikey invited you back. Fortunately for you, it only took about four days for that to happen. Unfortunately for however, it was through a very distressing text that read 'We should talk'. Eeeee 😬

Before you went you baked some cookies to hopefully help lighten the blow. You may not be able to... 'art'... BUT YOU COULD BAKE. When you met with Mikey it was in a secluded area of Todd's Puppy Land, or whatever its called.

"Hey y/n," he said giving you a weak smile and finally looking at you. He looked tired. Like he hadn't slept since you both last talked.

"Hey Mikey," you responded, "I uh. I brought cookies." You gave and awkward smile and his expression softened. He motioned for you to sit next to him on the bench. As you did you placed the cookies between you both as to give him some space.

He sighed, "I'm sorry y/n, I didn't mean-" you cut him off.

"YOUR SORRY?! WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO BE SORRY ABOUT?!" you were exasperated.

"Well I-"

"NO! I ruined your painting that took you forever to make that you made for your dads birthday! If anyone should be sorry it's me!"

"Thank you," he told you, "and I accept you apology, but it wasn't really your fault. It was an accident due to us both being reckless."

"But I started it!"

"And I didn't stop you, *sigh* listen. I didn't mean to scare you like I did. I just get very emotionally attached to my art so I was having a lot of feelings that day. I want to make it very clear that I don't want to break up with you and I'm not mad at you."

At this, you let out a sigh you didn't even know you were holding. When he looked back at you he was shocked. Your eyes were glassy with tears and your cheeks were red. You looked so sad. And so sorry. Oh, if he didn't already regret what he said to you that day he sure did now. How could he had asked you to leave?

"I still feel bad about it," you told him looking down at your hands. He moved the cookies behind him to close the gap between you both and pulled you into a hug.

"Hey, I get it. But if it makes you feel any better I was able to fix mistakes I made the first time and clean up areas I had previously messed up. On top of that I'm pretty close to being in the same spot with its progress that I was last time," he said, trying to console you. you pulled back to look at him.

"You mean you repainted it?"

"Well yeah. It's pops birthday gift, I had to," he smiled at you.

"Didn't that take you weeks to do?!"

"The first time yeah. But I kind couldn't sleep until I was back to were I was before sooo"

THATS WHY HE LOOKED SO TIRED! HE HASN'T SLEPT IN FOUR DAYS!

"Alright well someone's going to bed right now," you told him, picking up your cookies and dragging him by the wrist. He happily complied and followed you back to the lair. Not before thanking Todd for letting you guys use his space.

Overall, you both were just glad that everything was back to normal.

Raph:

Oh bb. He's so soft for you.

Bro will kiss the ground you walk on.

He's also the most responsible.

However most responsible does not mean least chaotic.

I mean the dude tries to lift a bus and ate a literal phone.

So honestly, I can see him being pretty open to a lot of stuff as long as your safety isn't jeopardized.

Notice how I said 'your safety'?

Yeah. Again, remember the bus incident? I refuse to believe that he wouldn't do something stupid for you as long as he's the only one with a possibility of getting hurt.

That being said, like Mikey he has a line. Unlike Mikey that line is drawn with chalk and is very easily swept away.

Now Raph does not like crossing this line. I mean who likes compromising their boundaries?

But he will do it.

Raph is very susceptible to peer pressure and if it's coming from you of all people? He'll do it.

He won't be happy about it after though.

Like he's happy your happy but he will being to feel like his feelings don't matter to you the same as yours matter to him.

So for the sake of this poor boy please don't press further if he said no the first time.

It makes him feel like a bad boyfriend. :(

You and Raph were cuddling on the couch watching Jupiter Jim movies. As per the usual when you both are bored and have nothing better to do. You were positioned on his lap knees pointing to the side so you could rest your head on his chest.

"Hey Raphy?" you said grabbing his attention.

"Yes?" he said looking down at you.

"You wanna crash a wedding?"

"What?!"

"Do you. Want to. Crash a wedding. ... With me."

"And why are we crashing a wedding?"

"Fun," you told him, "but also I'm bored."

He giggled at you. You were such a little cutie and he could never get over it.

"What would we be doing?"

"Oh ya know, dancing, eating the food, photo bombing. The ushe," you shoot him a cheeky smile.

"Okay, one question though," you nodded at him, "how are we gonna do that with... this whole situation," he told you gesturing to himself.

"Sweets, we're in New York. You put on a suit jacket and act like 'this whole situation' is normal, most people will chalk it up to eccentricity," you told him.

"You sure bout that?"

"I've never been so sure about anything in my entire life."

"Well I guess we have a wedding to prepare for," he said nuzzling his snout into your cheek.

"YESSSsssssssssss!!" you exclaimed.

---

After a quick social media search you found the perfect wedding to crash. You and Raphael dusted off your best wedding attire and set out on a mission to have a good time.

You guys had made it to the reception so you just walked in and pretended like you belonged there. Raph was obviously still a little worried about walking in full green skin and three fingered but you assured him it was fine. And you were kinda right. He definitely got weird looks but he tried his best to follow your advise and pretend like was nothing was wrong. So for a while now body bothered you guys.

"See? What did I tell you, no body even cares!" You smiled at him as you pulled him to the dance floor.

"Yeah, I guess," he told you a tad nervous. He smiled at you regardless and you're both began to dance.

It was a fun, up eat song so you and Raph jumped along in your own little world. Twisting, turning, and shimming to the beat, it felt like you both were walking on air.

After dancing for a couple of songs straight you guys decided to try some of the refreshments. You took some lemonade and the little cheesecake bits and found a vacant table. You both chatted about little things, telling jokes and having a good time.

Eventually someone from the party approached you. She was a skinny old woman. Not old enough to be grey haired and senile but just old enough that she had plenty of wrinkles.

"Excuse me, I don't believe we've met," she told you as she sat down her to you, "what are your names?"

"Oh, I'm y/n and this is Raph," you gestured to him and he gave a small wave.

"Well it's nice to meet you. I'm the brides aunt Tina."

"Well in that case, congrats! I'm sure your so happy for her!"

"I am, Oliver seems like such a a nice man. He treats Sara so well. On that note, who are you here for? The bride or the groom?"

Raph sweat dropped, he didn't like lying and it made him nervous that he might have to if you both wanted to stay.

"Oh we're not," you told her honestly. Raph was relieved for about half a second before he realized that now you guys might cause a whole other scene.

"I'm sorry, not what?"

"Here for either the bride or the groom. We don't know either of them, we were just bored and wanted to dance."

"Wh-," her face showed her absolute disbelief, "This is a family and friends even you can't just waltz in uninvited!"

"Well I mean. You can. We just did. Wether or not that's a respectful thing to do is an entirely different debate though."

Tina's face was starting to turn red.

"Well! I'm going to have to ask you both to leave!" she demanded raising her voice while she stood and pointed to the exit.

"Hey, what's going on Tia?" the bride asked putting a hand on her aunts sholder.

You leaned back in your chair resting your arm over the back of it while you took a swig of your water.

"These two hooligans weren't invited! They don't know anyone here!"

"Well that's hardly fair Tina, I thought we formed a connection over the last five minutes," you teased which prompted Raph to shoot you a disapproving look. Tina looked absolutely appalled by you attitude.

"What?" you questioned Raph with a giggle, "Come on this is kinda funny."

"Your making her upset!"

"Eh, she would have been upset anyways,"

"DONT IGNORE US GET OUT! SOMEONE CALL THE POLICE!" Tina was full on screaming now, which prompted Raph to shoot out of his chair. He apologized quickly and picked you up by your sides and ran you both out of the wedding.

"Awwwww I wanted to grab some more of those cheesecake bites before we dipped."

Raph shook his head and smiled.

"Your unbelievable."

[lilystyles]

gingerbread at midnight.

part one of the sweetest thing series by @lilystyles

the sweetest thing masterlist & my main masterlist xxx

authors note did somebody say christmas fic szn??? if there is two things people know about me it is that i love christmas and i love harry styles. so here u go!

brief description during a chilly evening at the bakery, harry learns how to make gingerbread.

warnings! fluffy christmas baking including niall :) (4.3k words)

grumpy!roommate!journalist!H x sunshine!baker!roommate!reader

* * * * *

It was a snowy December evening and Harry finished work early for a change. Being a busy journalist who worked for one of the biggest media companies in the world, he never finished before the sun went down. Even before he’d been promoted to his high position now, and he was just some young fresh-faced Uni graduate assistant who rarely saw the light of day. Waking up early and finishing late. He was always running off much less sleep than your average person, and even when he was at home he was busily typing away on his laptop. But despite his strenuous hours and stressful workload, he loved his job a lot, and openly admitted he was a workaholic.

This was why he needed a roommate. He worried for his sweet girl while he was away during the evenings. 

At first, he couldn’t think of anything worse, he’d had roommates in Uni who literally made him want to pull his (gorgeous) hair out and swore to himself he’d never do anything like that again if he could avoid it. It wasn’t that his job didn’t pay well, in fact, he was very wealthy and he could’ve gotten a sitter for the days but it just didn’t seem practical to have a sitter every day for the rest of his life. And no, his sweet girl was not a partner to crawl into bed with during the evenings, or a child who needed his attention throughout the day. 

His sweet girl was his spotted Dalmatian named Peaches, who got lonely during the long nights he’d stay at the office. 

Y/n had been the perfect candidate for a roommate. Who he had met through a mutual friend Niall, they went to school together apparently and Niall worked with her now. He vouched that she was easy to live with. There had been a period of time when he had nowhere to go and Y/n let him live rent-free in her flat for a month until he could afford to get back on his feet. She was stupidly kind and generous, sometimes to a fault, but if you had the privilege of her friendship you were so lucky. When Niall explained to Harry what a good person she was Harry believed him. Niall had this great ability to see people’s true intentions, and when he looked at Y/n he saw a beacon of light coloured like spun gold.

Y/n worked for most of the week too, sometimes on weekends if they needed extra hands or she felt like going in, but her hours were flexible despite being a baker, which was unusual for her occupation. But she had a good group of workers who all loved their jobs even if it wasn’t exactly high-paying to work for her, which meant Y/n’s day-to-day life was pretty breezy. And during Harry’s hunt for roommates when Niall mentioned that this friend looking for an apartment with roommates happened to be a girl he was happy, because girls were usually clean and smelt good. Y/n very much smelt good and left a warm touch to the once cold large apartment. Quickly after she started living there, suddenly vases of flowers appeared everywhere, paintings were strung up on his grey walls, hand-knitted rugs found their way onto the couch, food was baking in his oven and Y/n’s contagious warmth filled every room. Harry had grown up with just his mum and sister and there was something he liked about having a feminine touch that made it feel homely. He liked how soft, caring, and gentle they were. Y/n was so sweet, whenever he had a bad day she made a tea and let him complain for however long he needed. And she and Peaches got on great, Y/n took her for long walks in the park near their flat and sometimes she even took Peaches into her work and the gorgeous pup would just sit in the front greeting customers.

The tires of Harry’s car rolled against the snow as he steadily drove through the busy middle of the city to the familiar route of Y/n’s bakery. She’d ran it for a couple of years now, having bought it fresh out of culinary school. It used to be a bookshop that was owned by a lady called Miss Green, now it was called ‘Sweets & Things’ and very successful with all the locals. Before they’d became roommates and he’d even known of her existence Harry remembers eating a particularly delicious danish pastry with blueberries in it, funny that a few years later his roommate made him fresh ones when he’d had a particularly rough day at work. 

During the Christmas season the little bakery picked up a lot more. Y/n found herself catering for lots more events starting from October and she didn’t know why but people seemed to need more sweets around this time of year. Halloween needed lots of cookies and sweets, but something about Christmas drove her sales right up. Maybe it was what got them through the bleak winter weather. And since Harry knew she’d been a bit stressed by it all lately, not that she would ever complain that wasn’t her way because she loved her job and was grateful to live out her dreams, he thought it might be nice to drop her some dinner since she’d been neglecting proper meals during the work week.

He picked up some takeaway from this little mexican place near his office, Niall had raved about it a few times now, he got an array of food from the menu and asked what they thought was best. Now he had three big bags of spicy smelling goodness heating up his backseats. He knew that Niall and Y/n would be eternally grateful and Harry wouldn’t mind eating with their company tonight. He forgot not everyone ate takeaway at their desk in the pitch black like he did.

His car pulled up out the front of Sweets & Things and he saw the golden bright lights were still on in the front area of the bakery, but no one was behind the counter manning for costumers. Snow littered the grass and concrete out the front, all the benches people sat at were caked in a thick layer of white and Harry shivered at the sight of outside. His office heaters were broken so he was actually always sweating, no matter the season. 

He parked his car lethargically and the sound of Fleetwood Mac cut off with the engine. He knew that the bakery stayed open until nine during the holiday season since Y/n had been working much later than normal and he’d asked about it, Harry checked his watch, and there was a little bit until they would shut down but it didn’t seem all that busy. And his friends deserved to eat after all.

He locked the car and walked along the path shivering and hugging the food to his body in attempt to warm himself up. He wiped his dress shoes against the welcome mat as he pushed the door with his broad shoulder, his dress shoes clicking on the tiles as he entered the bell above the door rang and he heard Y/n’s soft sweet laugh from behind the counter and footsteps. A warmth wrapped around his body and the smell of sweet baking and pastries filled his nose. 

The shelves with glass casing showed to be practically empty of sweets. This made him smile. Y/n always felt particulary chirpy when people liked her new creations of the week.

He felt his face start to warm up now and he sighed to himself.

“Hello! Welcome to Sweet & Things, what can I get y—” Y/n’s voice began in her usual script to customers stopping when she saw him, “Oh, Harry! What are you doing here?!” 

She rushed around the counter to come give him a cuddle in greeting. That was something about Y/n that took him a while to get used to, she was very physically affectionate. He opened his arms for her and held her happily. 

She looked cute as ever. Dressed in an apron that was covered in all sorts of powder and a little pink blouse that hugged her figure, paired with her favourite well-loved Levi’s, her shoes were these dark pink boots that made little clicks on the tiles. She looked beautiful, despite the fact she was running off less sleep than usual, she’d been here since the early morning and was probably very tired by now. Her hair was up in a messy bun that she’d thrown back with a pen and her face was bare of much makeup today. She was just in some lip balm that he could smell was strawberry-scented.

She pulled back from his warm arms and smiled up at him as if she hadn’t seen him weeks when in reality he’d driven her to work that morning. They carpooled and in the evening she’d either walk or catch the bus but usually Niall offered her a lift home.

“I just thought I’d bring you and Niel dinner, it’s from that Flaming Green Jose’s place he was talking about.” He said showing the bags of food. 

Y/n smiled this really big grin that Harry loved to make appear on her precious face. 

Y/n knew Harry was a bit of a grumpy old bastard sometimes, he tended to complain and not like new ideas, but he really was the sweetest thing underneath his stern face and scary resting stare. He was a sweetheart underneath it all. Even though he was so intimidating and tall Y/n always thought he was quite delicate looking. He looked pretty even under the harsh light of the front room, he was in one of his usual business outfits he wore to the office that made him look especially good. Today’s suit was all black and he had a big beige-brown coat over the top to keep him warm in the cold and this deep dark crimson scarf that Y/n had bought him when she noticed he had no scarfs, he said how much he liked her purple one day it was so soft he said and she decided then he needed one too. His long curls of brown hair were dusted in snow and messier now that it was the end of the day. She was sure it was from running his hands through it, he did that a lot when he was concentrating or thinking.

She rushed forward hugged him again with a big squeeze and kissed his cheek in thanks, he smelt so addicting and her head was the perfect height to smell his clothes that smelt like he always did. Like tobacco, vanilla, and his citrusy and woodsy shampoo. 

“Well aren’t you just a doll?” She said with a smile.

Harry couldn’t help but smile back at her looking down at her as a dimple formed in his normally stoic face. She pulled away from him hand still holding his bicep as she examined all the bags in his hands. Even though he dressed very formal always, he still had his touch on things, like his rings. Harry always wore dozens of amazing large rings, and nail polish too. Y/n had conviced him a few evenings ago to choose this nice lavender colour rather than his normal black. He said he would only if she would match him. So her nails were littered in that same colour and she was reminded of him whenever she looked at the chipping colour while she was kneading dough. And underneath those long shirts and pants were so many inked pieces of skin, that suited him more than you’d think. 

Y/n loved when, usually on Sundays which were his day off, he was sat at home in just some pyjamas that showed all the ink and she could ask him the stories behind each while they did laundry. She liked him in suits of course, there was something very attractive about it, but she liked him all cosy and casual too. He barely ever dressed that way, only at home. She felt lucky to see him that way.

She snapped herself out of her daydreams about his gorgeous hands and that cross tattoo she loved when her tummy rumbled hungrily at the smell of the delicious dinner.

“Niall! Harry brought us dinner!” She called out and Niall stepped out of the kitchen. He looked similar to Y/n, dressed casual too, because she didn’t think uniforms suited her place. The shorter man was in a pair of his own baggy jeans and this brown knitted jumper and a pair of ratty old sneakers. His bleach blonde hair was in messy spikes and he had a pair of glasses on today instead of contacts.

“Haz, is that Flaming Green Jose’s?” Niall asked instantly without even greeting him properly as he walked over to sniff and grab at the bags.

Harry nodded lifting the bags in show, the green plastic was printed in the familiar taco on fire logo that proved it was in fact Flaming Green Jose’s.

Niall practically drooled and looked up at him eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas. 

“I could kiss you, mate!” He said, his Irish accent dancing off his tongue.

Harry grimanced at him and handed over the bags. “Please don’t. Just take the tacos.”

Y/n giggled by his side squeezing his arm in her usual way when he said something that made her laugh. 

Niall and Harry quickly began to set up the containers of different Mexican dishes while Y/n grabbed some cutlery, cups, and cold water for them all to enjoy their late dinner. The bakery had a few tables for people to sit and enjoy snacks at, and only for one portion of the day did they serve hot drinks, Niall was also a trained barista, which was perfect because she thought coffee suited a lot of her sweets. 

The three of them set up their food in one of the booths that was a cherry red leather colour. The snow was falling heavily outside now against the windows and it had started to quiet down out there. Not as many shoppers or people finishing work were wandering around outside as usual. The storm was keeping people, hopefully, rugged up and warm inside.

Y/n dreamily looked outside as she turned the big overhead lights off and switched on just the fairy lights she had strung up for Christmas spirit. They were a nice soft golden orange glow for them to eat. 

The three friends enjoyed their dinner quietly as the radio hummed some old jazz Christmas songs, they were all huddled together really close and Y/n leaned into Harry sleepily which he didn’t mind at all. The bakery was warm but Y/n felt chilly now that she was sweating away in the kitchen. Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulder to help warm her as they lazily chewed down their food. Even though he’d stripped himself of his massive coat and scarf he was still rather warm. 

Niall was right it was quite good food and a family-run business which was always nice to support. Y/n knew how it hard was to be a little business in the busy city of London.

The three chatted about nothing particularly worth noting, just talking about normal Harry, Y/n, and Niall things and enjoying the food. Harry was very hungry so he’d barely spoken a word just chewing lazily beside Y/n. When all the food was gone and they all felt sufficiently full Y/n kissed Harry’s cheek once more. 

“Thanks again for dinner, H.” She said softly eyes drooping, now that’d she been fed she was getting a bit sleepy.

He smiled, a big one for Harry, he was almost showing teeth. 

“I know how hard y’guys have been workin’, just wanted to help in some way.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. And it wasn’t too much of a big deal but the fact he’d thought of them when he’d gotten the night off was sweet, he was so busy and he chose to spend some free time helping friends. That hardly matched his scary persona.

This made Y/n’s heart swell and she spoke softly. “Thanks, Haz.”

“Yeah mate, you’re the best.” Chimed Niall wiping his face with a napkin. Niall had devoured his food contently. 

Their little dinner together was interrupted by the door swinging open, the bell ringing, and a couple of two walked in. 

Y/n stood up, moving from the warmth of Harry. 

“Hi! How can I help you?” She said plastering a smile on her face, walking over and tying the back of her apron back on.

The couple ordered a few Christmas cookies decorated like pieces of art and some cream horns that Y/n had made that morning. Y/n handed them their bags took their change and waved goodbye. 

“Have a good night!” She chirped to them.

They smiled and waved. “You too, Y/n!”

Y/n came back over and sat down again, looking over to Niall tucking her knees up to her chest. “Is it gingerbread time then, Ni?”

Niall nodded throwing his head back with a sigh. 

Gingerbread could be quite tedious. Especially the way Y/n decorated them. She really made them all individual pieces of art just for people to eat them. Which was beautiful, but also very time consuming.

Harry looked over, “I thought gingerbread was quite easy, Y/n makes it so quickly.”

Niall scoffed. “That’s because Y/n’s a machine. But even she can’t do this many cookies alone.”

Harry looked over at the tired pair of bakers and down at his hands. He tried to think of the last time he’d made gingerbread. Must have been with his sister Gemma when they were kids visiting their grandparents. But he thought if he could get an interview with James Hadden (a man who notoriously never answered questions to the media) then he could bake some cookies. How hard could it be? 

“Let me help then. Many hands make light work.”

Y/n blinked. “You hate Christmas,” she stated.

He looked over at her. “But I like your Christmas cookies.”

Y/n decided not to fight him on it. “Alright. Niall find him an apron I’ll start setting up.”

Y/n began getting out all the ingredients they’d be needing this way they could each make a batch to save time. She grabbed flour pouring enough into three bowls for each batch, some unsalted butter, brown sugar from the cupboard, some eggs from the fridge, baking soda, milk, and all the spices. As she looked at the array of ingredients laid out on the steel bench she noticed she was missing the most with most important ingredient; golden syrup.

She walked to the stock cupboard and saw the big bottle of golden syrup sitting on the tallest shelf. Adam, a really tall baker, had been working earlier he must’ve put it there. Y/n tried to reach on her tiptoes though it was no use, her fingernails only just grazed it.

When a hand came out from behind her gripping the big can it startled her and she turned to see Harry standing behind her.

“Oh, you scared me,” She giggled.

“Sorry, Love.”

She followed him back out to the kitchen. He placed the big can down on the bench and she took in his form. His long shoulder-length hair was pulled back in a bun now, and he’d taken off his suit jacket and tie, his black shirt was rolled up to his elbows and the buttons on his collar were undone. He had an apron on now too, one of Y/n’s collection, it was pink and frilly with flowers.

Y/n softly explained to Harry the process of making the batter and he was intently listening to her every word watching her through his lashes. Soon enough the dough was perfect and all three of them rolled out the dough the perfect width which meant Harry had to re-roll it. Once Y/n gave a thumbs up of approval they began using the cookie cutter shapes and cutting the cookies out. 

Harry had the make hearts and stars, Niall made gingerbread men and women, and Y/n made circles and snowflakes. 

Eventually, they put in their first batch, a little after 10. They kept re-rolling the dough and cutting as many as they could until the batches vanished. Harry was very good and gentle with his technique, and some were wonky but Y/n loved that he was helping and it took her years to perfect her cookies so he was doing very well for his first time. She selfishly wanted to keep his batch for them to go home and eat but she didn’t. 

By 11 all the batches were cooked or still cooking. Niall was on oven duty and Y/n was teaching Harry how to decorate. 

The ginger people were decorated all classic. White iced smiley faces and an outline around their body, little chocolate buttons for the outfits and a pinch of icing sugar to look like snow. Harry tried his best to do them and Y/n loved their imperfections it was like real people; all individual.

The others needed to be painted in colourful swirls of festive landscapes and honestly, they looked like individual paintings. Harry was amazed at her steady hand and ability to decorate such creative and individual designs for each cookie.

“Y’like tha’ bloody Andy Wharol of cookies, Y/n.” He said.

And she giggled her concentrated face cracking to a smile. She looked over at him. “It’s just practice.”

“No, it’s not.” Said Niall, from his station. “I’ve been practising for ages, your baking is just pure talent.” 

By midnight the last batch had cooled down and they were all decorating together and Y/n was humming along to the Christmas playlist she had put on. 

Niall twirled Y/n around and they sang along goofily. Niall and Y/n had been friends since culanary school which felt like years ago now. They were only teenagers then. All baby-faced and wide-eyed, now they were older and still just as immature when put together. When Y/n opened her bakery and she needed extra hands he was the first person she called. 

Niall was her best friend, and Harry had easily become her other one. Even though she was so tired and it was late, and her feet ached. The boys made it better. Niall singing into a spatula and Harry refusing to dance or sing was what kept her going the final stretch. She stopped decorating to go over to Harry, she looped her arms through his waist forcing him to step away from the bench and she tried to make him sway with her. 

His body stayed still and she moved closer to the front of him, in hopes of seeing his face. 

“C’mon! Dance, Grinch!”

“I don’t even dance when it isn’t Christmas, Y/n.”

She huffed arms crossing, “Please?” she asked, fluttering her eyes best of her ability in hopes of convincing him. 

Harry melted at the sight. She was so cute, even Harry couldn’t say no to her. He sighed like it was the most horrible task anyone could’ve asked him and she held out her hand with a smile. He grabbed it and she raised her hand for him to twirl under and he obliged spinning even though he was much taller than her. She leaned in close to him hands landing on his hips as his landed on her shoulders in an embrace while they swayed. She sang softly, and very off-key and Harry just shook his head. 

She was like a ray of sunlight, and he was like the moon. She looked up at him, “Thanks for helping,” she said softly.

“Of course….you’ve done way more for me.” He said.

She just shook her head and was about to reply but Niall cut them off. 

“I gotta’ get home to Max soon.” Max was Niall’s recent boyfriend. 

“Sorry, let’s get back too it.” Y/n said pulling away from Harry.

By almost 1 AM they were finished with every cookie. It was perfect. They would probably all sell out tomorrow. Y/n grabbed two handfuls one for Niall and one for Harry. She wrapped them like she would for costumers. She tied two pink ribbons and handed one to Niall. 

“Thank you for all your hard work, Ni, I’ll see you Monday?” He nodded smiling in his easy going way, and pecked her cheek.

“Bye, Pet, see you Monday.” They waved him off and they heard him leave when the bell chimed.

Y/n and Harry turned the lights off and grabbed there things. Y/n put on her layers of clothes. A big red coat, her lavender scarf, and her blue beanie that had a fuzzy ball on top. She grabbed her bags and keys and they locked up the shop. 

At least tomorrow both her and Harry had the day off. 

The walk to the car was brisk but short, the snow had stopped now and but it was still freezing. The pair stayed close by to one another, trying to keep warm as they walked quickly to the car. 

Harry started the car as fast as he could and cranked the heat and while they waited for it warm up they finally tried the few pieces of gingerbread she’d saved for them.

“Y/n this is so fucking good.” He said looking over at her. His hair was back down and he’d put on all his layers too. She smiled. 

“All you, H.”

He just shook his head. “You’re the best.”

She looked over blushing. “And you’re the sweetest.”

[automaticllamacycle]

giving him head smut? 👀

I had such a blast writing this. It's set in the coffee shop au because of course it is. I hope this is good because I am a bit nervy about posting it !

Content: 18+, this is literally just giving head

Word count: 1440

Matty is on you the second you’re in the door of his apartment. He quickly discards his keys to the floor before pressing you against the door. His lips meet yours, tongue sliding into your mouth.

The kiss is messy. His teeth nibble at your bottom lip, drawing a gasp from you. One of his hands rest at the base of your neck, wrapping around it. The pressure of his fingertips into your skin is light, but it’s enough to make you dizzy. Blood rushes through your veins. You grind your hips into him, desperate for friction. He’s been hard since the minute he pressed you against the door, straining through his jeans.

There’s one thing you haven’t done with him so far. The thought of it has been on your mind for days now. You wanted to make him come with your mouth. Simple as that. You can imagine the way his hands would wrap in your hair. How his head would fall back while groans sound from his throat. Breathless, gravely sounds would leave his mouth as he would struggle not fuck your mouth. His size would gag you easy. You need him. Now.

“Matty,” you break the kiss, breathless. “I want you.” He’s in the middle of taking off his shirt when he responds.

“Let’s go to the bedroom. Been thinking about you being under me all night long.” He smiles, looking you over. Your face is tinged pink, framed by your messy hair. You move your hand to rest over the bulge in his jeans.

“Can I suck you off? Want to make you feel good like you make me feel.” You press your palm into him, and his mouth falls open, moaning at the pressure. The sound is music to your ears.

“You already make me feel good, darling. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” His eyes say a different story, though. His pupils are blown wide. He’s thought about you on your knees for him for months. He’s jacked off to the image of your lips wrapped around him more times than he’d care to admit.

You sink to your knees in front of him, holding eye contact. “I really want to. Been thinking about it a lot. Just don’t know exactly what to do.”

“I’ll talk you through it, yeah? Think you can listen and be a good girl for me?”

“Mhm. Wanna do well.”

“You’ll do perfect.” You stare up at him for a moment before continuing. Your hands reach the button of his jeans, and your eyes look up at him for approval. Matty offers it immediately, nodding his head rapidly in response. When his jeans are on the floor, you’re face to face with the hard length under his boxers. You move without his instructions, mouthing at the spot of precum on his boxers. You press your tongue flat against the fabric, tracing the shape underneath. “Fuck, sweetheart. You’re already a natural.” Matty’s voice croaks out. His breathing becomes more rapid. A flush paints over his chest and cheeks as sweat forms at his brow. He can’t handle the teasing anymore. “Take my cock out.” The phrase is blunt, laced with lust.

You listen, sliding your fingertips underneath the waist band of his boxers to pull them down. Without thinking, you press a kiss to the rose tattoo on his hip. Your lips linger on the skin before you pull back to look at his face, still unsure of yourself.

“What do I do now?” you ask.

“Wrap your hand around it, just like I’ve shown you before.” Your hand moves to collect the precum at his tip before holding the base of his cock, stroking it slowly. “Good girl. Now just use that pretty mouth of yours. Don’t worry about taking me deep. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Your hand strokes him a few more times before you trace your tongue on the underside of his shaft, circling his tip. “Shit—” Matty sucks in a sharp breath. His gaze locks onto you while you continue to lick at the tip, tongue dipping into the slit.

As you begin to take him further into your mouth, your hair falls all over the place. You ignore it, continuing to sink down on his cock until half of it is in your mouth. Fueled by the strangled sounds coming from his mouth, you start to bob your head slowly, trying not to take too much at once.

“Can I hold you hair for you, love? I promise I won’t force your head down. Just want to see your pretty face.” Matty asks. His lips look nearly raw, likely from trying to hold his moans back.

You remove his cock from your mouth to answer him. Spit falls down your chin, dripping onto your shirt. It’s messy. It takes everything in Matty not to groan at the sight.

“Yeah of course,” your voice breathes out. Matty’s quickly moves his hands to gather your hair into a makeshift ponytail behind your head, keeping it out of the way. Now he can see you clearly. Nothing keeping him from seeing your lips stretched around him. “Am I doing okay? Is there anything else I should be doing?” you ask before you take him in your mouth again.

“You’re doing so good, sweet girl. Perfect for me. But uh—“he pauses, breathless. Words aren’t coming to him easy. “Hollow your cheeks a bit. The suction feels really good.” This time when you sink onto his cock, you hollow in your cheeks as you bob your head, pressing your tongue on the underside of his shaft. “Fuck baby. Just like that shit—“ he moans. He looks down as you take him in. Your lips stretch around his cock, and drool drips out of the side of your mouth. It’s completely erotic. Matty can’t help but tighten his grip on your hair as he tries to commit the image to memory.

You catch him off guard when you don’t continue the shallow bobbing you’ve been doing. Instead, you take his cock as deep into your mouth as possible, gagging when it hits the back of your throat. Matty’s hips jolt forward at the feeling of your throat constricting around him. A loud, raw groan leaves his mouth as his head falls back. His hand as a reflex pushes your head farther down onto him. You shift your eyes upwards, watching as the pleasure engulfs him. He's only holding your head down for a second before he realizes what he’s doing. “Shit sorry, didn’t mean to do that.” He says, snapping his head back down to look into your eyes. You moan around his cock, increasing the speed you take him in your mouth. You alternate between quick bobs of your head and taking him in until you gag.

His deep groans begin to turn into desperate whines as he gets closer to his climax. You can feel the way his cock starts to throb in your mouth. He’s close. He only needs a little bit more. You pay attention to the tip of his cock, hollowing in your cheeks while running your tongue along the base. With your hands, you stroke his shaft. Matty’s hips buck into your mouth, whimpers leaving his mouth. “Baby I’m gonna come—” he manages to say. His hand goes to try and pull your head back so he doesn’t come in your mouth, but you don’t let him. Instead, you let a loud moan leave your throat as you take him into your mouth as far as you can. In an instant, his head falls back as a choked sound leaves his throat, and he spills into your mouth, grinding his hips gently as he rides out the high. You take your mouth off of him when his hips finally slow down. “Fuck, that was good. Such a good girl for me.” Matty says as he runs his hand through your hair lovingly. “Let me get you a cup so you don’t have to swallow—”

Before he can even finish the sentence, you swallow. Almost as if to prove it to him, you open your mouth and stick out your tongue, showing you swallowed every bit of it. His eyes darken at your actions. “No worries. I took care of it.” A smile runs across your face when you see the effect you have on him. Matty leans down and suddenly picks you up in his arms, walking towards the bedroom.

“Come on. Wasn’t joking when I said I wanted to see you under me.”

[elliebyrrdwrites]

Dramione Drabble 12

This story that started out as a Drabble is bout to hit 20k words. So, yeah, things have turned serious. To those who enjoy this story and have left me beautiful comments, you are literally the reason I cant stop writing this. It feels like a group effort, you know?

“The last spell performed by Hermione’s wand was an Incarcerous.” Harry muttered as he spoke to Robarbs.

Draco and Hermione were sat in a interrogation room. They sat, together, on one side of the table while Ron, Harry and Robarbs all stood together on the other side. Robarbs and Harry were filling out a report while they questioned the two. Ron was staring at Malfoy, eyes accusatory.

“And Malfoys?” Robarbs asked, gruffly.

“A warming spell.” Harry glanced up at Hermione, awkwardly. Draco had used a warming spell as her body suffered the aftermaths of performing dark magic. The shock of taking a life.

Malfoy’s knee pressed up against hers under the table. Their hands were resting on the table, visible to the Aurors questioning them.

“Everything seems to check out. Cath’s story lines up with theirs.” Robarbs said of the witch who called in the break in and nodded to Harry who agreed.

“You don’t find it curious?” Ron asked, glancing over at his boss. “That the past two calls Malfoy has been sent out on, the assailant has ended up dead?”

“Well, not the one that got away.” Draco drawled, leaning back in his seat, hands flat against the metal table. His legs opened wider, his knee pressing hard into Hermione’s. They weren’t handcuffed to the table but it was protocol to keep the suspects hands visible when questioning them.

She blinked up at Ron. “Do you really think I would let Malfoy get away with murder, Ronald?”

Ron grimaced at her cool stare and looked back at Malfoy. “I think this is all too convenient. He saves your life, you save his. Both suspects dead?”

“You know, you’re right, Weasley.” Draco looked over at Hermione and smiled when she turned to look at him. “You saved my life, Granger.” He blinked and leaned into her. “Allow me to thank you.”

Hermione did nothing as his warm lips pressed into hers. Nothing whatsoever, as they nudged hers open and his tongue slipped inside. It only lasted a moment, seconds! before Ron’s body crashed into Draco’s.

Draco’s seat tipped over with the force of the hit, both men slamming to the floor.

“Ron!” Harry bellowed while Robarbs sighed out a “Weasley.”

But Ron was lost to the world, his knees were dug into Draco’s hips while his fist pulled back and hit Draco square in the mouth.

Hermione jumped to her feet, heart pounding furiously in her chest.

But then Draco was laughing and shoving his hands into Ron’s face, his fingers pushing against his eyes and his nose.

Hermione blinked.

Suddenly, she was seeing everything from Draco’s point of view.

The fuming sputtering red face of Ron. She could taste the blood in Draco’s mouth as he held Weasley’s face away from his own, laughing up at him, taunting him. Because Draco was taller, his limbs longer. He held him back, digging a thumb into his eye. Weasley wasn’t a threat to him. He was only doing exactly what he wanted, making a fool of himself, destroying his reputation as an Auror.

And then Robarbs and Harry were lifting Ron off of Draco as Hermione blinked back into her body. Ron was kicking and cursing Draco. “Don’t you ever touch her again, you evil bastard!” Ron was bellowing as he was dragged away from him.

Draco stood up and grinned at him. There was blood climbing up and down the cracks between his perfectly straight teeth as he looked at Ron. He straightened the jacket of his suit and lifted his chin. “For someone who cant get get it up, I would think you’d understand her need for being touched.”

“You fucking asshole!” Ron was yellowing as he was dragged from the interrogation room. “She isn’t yours to touch. Hermione, don’t you fucking dare —” But then his vice was cut off with the sealing of the large, metal door meant to keep criminals inside.

Hermione glared at Draco as he turned to look at her.

His brow lifted as she took in his bloody mouth, lips swollen and red.

“You meant to provoke him.” She hissed.

Draco nodded.

Hermione slapped him. She knew then that something was wrong with her, with him. The both of them had something deeply wrong with them.

Draco’s head snapped to the side, his hair flying over his forehead with the force of it. He pushed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, near the corner of his lip that was dripping blood before he turned to look at her.

His eyes were dark but she knew that he wasn’t angry with her.

Maybe it was because he knew what she was going to do, next.

Hermione grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled him into her. She pushed herself to the tip of her toes and Draco’s hands went to her shoulders, his long fingers wrapping over them and then she kissed him.

Draco groaned into her mouth and then his hands were in her hair, pressing her mouth harder against his as it slanted over hers. And her hands were suddenly at his face, cupping them over his jaw.

She tasted copper and salt and the lingering hint of peppermint. She smelled him, inhaled him into her as she nudged his mouth open wider, deepening the kiss. The kiss became indecent, their tongues tasting one another’s as their bodies fought to get closer.

He wanted to fuck her on this table, she felt it, the thought. Felt the idea flutter behind his closed eyelids as he pressed her ass against the edge of it. He wanted Ron to watch through the two way mirror as he bent her over it, fucking her from behind and forcing her to cry out his name.

She’d never called out anyone’s name during sex. Nobody had pushed her to that irrational edge of ecstasy. But she knew Draco would. He had come close when he went down on her on Friday. And now she was entertaining the idea of getting fucked on the table in an interrogation room.

But then he was ripping his mouth away from hers and panting into her face as he held her an arms length away from her, hands back on her shoulders.

“Not yet.” He said, breathlessly.

Just before the door opened and Harry walked in, shaking his head, angry with Ron. Angry with Malfoy.

But when he looked at Hermione and found her lips smeared with Draco’s blood, he closed his eyes and exhaled. Long and slow. “Hermione,” He took a breath. “What the fuck?”

[icallhimjoey]

i neeeed soft!joey x reader sleeping with their head in the others lap. dont mind which way it is but still 🥹 too soft i cannot

okay so, i know that this request asks for me to write something new but, i've got things planned and i didnt want this to drown and disappear into my inbox to maybe be found months later, so, TO MEET YOUR NEEDS, here's an excerpt from all goes south that i wrote early feb 2023. hope it suffices!! Wordcount: 0.9K

---

Taken From: All Goes South

excerpt taken from part four You thought everything was going to change when Joe texted you, “Are you busy tonight?” and you looked around your small, dingy flat before answering,

“Other than falling asleep to bad TV and sleeping off this splitting headache, not really”

You’d just finished doing dishes and were quite literally excited to lay down on your sofa and not move for the rest of the evening.

“Sounds lush, come do that here”

Joe hadn’t yet been over to your place, and you’d been weird about it that first night, so Joe had never asked to come over again. You were glad; your place was a filthy shoebox compared to Joe’s home. A real grimy one, all sorts of drab, with a messy flatmate, because who the fuck could afford their own flat in central London as an undergrad?

You sent Joe a pic from your position on the sofa, your legs spread out with your ankles crossed on the coffee table.

“Don’t wanna move”

“Text your address again?”

Joe made that sound all kinds of casual. You’d never texted Joe your address before, and him coming over to your place was definitely not what you had planned for.

You probably would’ve hoovered had you known earlier in the day.

Now? Not a chance.

Joe’d dropped you off after a photoshoot once, so he vaguely knew whereabouts your lived, but he’d never been over.

You knew you’d hate yourself for it later. Joe had no business being in your dirty little flat. But you didn’t reply with a joke, or a sly comment, or even something flirty. You just texted your address, because, actually, you really fucking wanted to snuggle up to Joe, even if that meant Joe was going to see your unhoovered flat, and maybe meet your flatmate.

When Joe entered, it was obvious to him why you needed a proper job. He didn’t comment, but you could see him look, which was fine - you’d looked around his place the first time you’d seen it too.

Different reasons, of course, but, whatever.

He joined you on the sofa, and tried to make polite conversation. Said he brought gin, because he knew it was your favourite, but you hardly reacted. You weren’t joking before when you said you had a headache. And so Joe dropped it. Just sat next to you and was happy he got to be close.

That was all he wanted anyway.

To be close.

It didn’t take long before you found yourself nodding off, head bobbing, jerking itself back up every time it fell forward. You were fighting off yawns and kept rubbing your face in a weak attempt to stay awake. It was hard work, and your headache started getting worse, but you had a guest over, and it was rude to just fall asleep next to them, so you fought against all instincts until you heard a soft chuckle from Joe.

“You’re allowed to sleep, you know? Come, lay down,”

And then he offered you his lap.

So much for taking things slow.

Sure, you weren’t about to deep throat him exactly, but that was some close penis-to-face interaction you were about to get involved in.

But you were so tired.

And you really liked Joe.

So you moved, and scooted, and your head found Joe’s lap. Four arms worked together to cover you with the throw blanket, and before you knew it, Joe’s hand was patting your hair, and then a kiss got pressed into it before he sat back up.

His hand remained, and fingers raked, brushed and softly played and all of it made you fully relax.

Turned you into putty.

Made you melt into Joe’s touch. 

Nothing was going to beat this. 

Ever.

It only took you a few seconds to drift away. To float. To hover in flight, the wind keeping you stationary.

Somehow you felt yourself slipping away from Joe whilst simultaneously moving towards him more.

Joe made small comments about whatever you were watching, but his voice was a faraway, deep thing that melted over you a little.

You drifted and floated and hovered until you found yourself in this bubble where it was just warmth, comfortability and tingles from scalp scratches.

Your thoughts went fuzzy, and you didn’t think about how you always seemed to self-sabotage everything in your life. How you always pushed away whoever was trying to get close. In your bubble it was safe, and Joe was allowed inside, and nothing could hurt you in there, in Joe’s hands.

Teetering on the edge of falling asleep, of fully slipping under, Joe noticed your breathing had become steady and slow, so he pulled his hand away, afraid that his touch would wake you back up.

But the second his fingers stopped playing, you stirred, hummed, and then blindly reached behind your head to find his hand and placed it back. It made Joe’s chest swell. Made him think things, like he wanted this forever, like he wanted to kiss you silly. Wanted to cuddle you close until your individual smell became his and his became yours. Wanted to inhale you, fill his lungs up the to brim with you. 

Be close. 

Forever be close.

Joe was in trouble.

Trouble had found him in the form of a pretty girl and Joe was absolutely fucking gone for you.

You thought everything was going to change then, but it hadn’t. Not at all, actually.

---

read All Goes South here

(skipping the taglist on this one because posting this feels like cheating since it's not new writing)

[c-t-r-l14]

Special

“I wish I was special

I gave all my special

Away to a loser

Now I’m just a loser.”

—————————💔————————-

Synopsis: You refuse to go out quietly.

This is the second part to Session 32.

———————————💔————————-

In all of his panic, it took Alex a couple of seconds to notice that the drawers to the dressers were ajar and the suitcases with your clothes inside. You saw his eyes widen as the realization hit, but the feeling of incredulity made him ask one singular question:

“W-Where are you going?”

The quiver in his voice made you die inside, and yet you kept you voice low, and your tone firm and flat.

“Away,” You simply replied, “I’m moving out.”

…….

He simply stared at you—his doe eyes wide with hurt and distress. His stare burned into your own, and it was painful to look at him. Despite that, you kept your expression neutral, and your back firm and straight. You made sure your face didn’t show your true feelings.

“Right now? Why?” He inquired.

“Because we broke up. There’s no reason to stay anymore, so I’m leaving,” You simply answered, and you continued packing your stuff.

“I just—I guess I didn’t think that you’d leave so soon…I thought that maybe you were gonna stay a bit longer.”

“Why?”

“Well, I haven’t even started packing yet—I don’t leave ‘till February 16th and I still got a whole lot of paperwork to sort out and everything before I go. So, I just thought that we’d have a little bit of time left to sort this—”

“Well, you thought wrong.”

You felt Alex’s gaze as you continued to pack. You can feel as he was trying his best to contemplate what exactly was going on right now. Your short, curt responses and air of indifference was clearly bothering him, and you could tell that he didn’t know what to do.

“Okay—what is your problem??” he asked, annoyance and confusion evident in his tone, “You’ve been gone for days, you haven’t been answering any of my messages—”

“Why are you acting like you didn’t know where I was? I sent you a text. I told you where I was and who I was with.”

“Yeah you did, but I—“

“Okay, so stop acting like I didn’t. I needed some time away from you. Who I was with and my location was all the information you needed.”

“What is with you?? It’s the first time I’ve seen you in days, and all I’ve been greeted with is a bad attitude, a suitcase filled with clothes, and you telling me you’re leaving!”

You could hear the frustration in his voice, and even though you weren’t looking at him, you could practically feel the pain in his eyes. You continued to pack regardless.

“Yep, sounds about right,” you responded non-cholantly, “I got my girl Solana downstairs with the car. When I’m ready to go, she’s gonna drop me off at my mom’s house. Denise, Kimahri, and Dehlani are gonna be here in a couple of days for winter break, and they’ve agreed to help me pack up the rest of my stuff—Oh! I already told our Super that I’m moving too, he told me that I still have to pay my part of the rent—”

“Wait—Wait. Other people know about this?? You’ve had this whole thing sorted out already?” He asked incredulously.

That question confused you a little. Did he think you were at your mom’s house only for moral support?

“Shouldn’t it be obvious, Alex?” you sighed as you put a pair of pants in your suitcase, “I literally just mentioned the people who’ll be helping me move.”

“How come I was the last to know about it, though???”

You stopped packing, and turned your head in his direction and just stared. Your expression of neutrality was no more; your brows were raised and your eyes were wide with pure astonishment. You stared at his knitted brows, and the wrinkles on his forehead that were creased with worry. You stared at his glassy, doe eyes—and saw the hurt and pain they beheld behind the color of burnt sienna. His whole face held an expression of betrayal, agony, and bewilderment.

Oh, the irony.

“Yeah well, it doesn’t feel good now, doesn’t it Alex?” you sneered, trying your best to keep your voice low, “Being the last to know about shit you really SHOULD know about REALLY bites the big one, doesn’t it??”

“Oh my GOD, here we GO,” Alex groaned as he rolled his eyes.

“Oh what?? You’re mad now ‘cause you’re feeling what I felt that day??”

“(Y/N), How in the HELL did you expect me to tell you about the job offer if you couldn’t even handle me working with Natalie?? You looked through my phone, accused me of cheating, and expected me to not be at least a little bit hesitant about telling you?? And it seems like you STILL aren’t handling it well now, considering how you’re just ready to get up and leave!”

You faltered a little bit. Some of the things he said weren’t wrong. You lost your cool and made some very stupid decisions and it definitely wasn’t your proudest moment. Usually, when situations arose, you made sure to keep your feelings in check and be more logical and rational about things. But you were so worried that another person you loved would leave you for someone else. But that still wasn’t an excuse. And there was definetly a better way of communicating how you felt—one that didn’t involve you going through his phone and making stupid accusations.

“Look. I understand that you were hurt and surprised about what happened. I know what I did was wrong. I violated your privacy, and accused of shit you didn’t do, and I will always be sorry for that. I’m usually not like that—“

“I know,” he interjected.

“That’s the thing—you know! You know that I’m usually calmer. You know that I’m usually level headed. What I did was dumb, yes—but I would think that the one time I lose my cool and do something stupid wouldn’t be my defining characteristic!“

“It’s not!”

“Well you sure acted like it was when you made up that fuckass excuse—talkin’ ‘bout how you ‘thought you knew me,’ Alex. We were together for four years—and you me know better than anyone.”

You sighed.

“I’m not angry because you want to move to New York. It’s where your dream job is, and you should totally go for it. I’m angry because you tried to get rid of ME in the process.”

Alex’s eyes widened.

“What?” He gasped.

“It was so obvious that you’ve mentally checked out of this relationship long ago—and even more obvious that you’ve had your mind made up from the jump. And that’s comepletely fine. Sometimes, relationships don’t last forever…”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. You tried your best to hold it together.

“But the way you ended things between us was absolutely trifiling!!”

And it was true—that’s how you felt. You weren’t angry at him for leaving you. You weren’t angry that he wanted to go to New York. You were angry with the way he broke up with you—because the things he said that day didn’t make a lick of sense.

“I—I ended things for BOTH of our sakes! I did it because I love you!”

You couldn’t help but scoff at that statement. It took everything in your power not to roll your eyes.

“You did it because you wanted me GONE.”

“Wha—I can’t believe you’d say—”

“During the whole time you broke up with me, all you did was blame me for everything and make excuses, Alex! You say I’m not the right person to handle long distance—“

“Oh my GOD, there you go AGAIN with the assumptions!”

“Alex, how in the HELL did you expect me to take that??? You were most definitely alluding to it, don’t play with me!”

“I wasn’t—”

“If you weren’t alluding to it, then there was no reason to say it in the first place! If you really wanted to leave then that’s fine—but don’t get mad at me and accuse me of ‘jUmpiNG tO ConCLUsiONS’ when you say outta pocket shit like that! Especially since I ended up being right about you wanting to leave me in the first place!!!”

Your heart felt like it was about to leap out of your chest and your lungs were on fire. You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes, and your throat closing up. You just wanted all of this to be over. Having this conversation hurt too much. And suddenly, you found yourself wishing for the hollowness that had once consumed your body to come back. You were in too much pain. You’d rather feel nothing at all. This was so damn difficult to do.

But anything worth doing is hard.

So you took in a deep, quivering breath and let it out slowly. You blinked back the tears that threatened to fall, and you cleared your throat.

“You talked about how much this hurts you—how much it hurts to leave me, but it really doesn’t feel that way. You talk about how much you love me, but I feel like if you loved me as much as you said you did, then you would’ve at least tried to make this work, Alex. I KNOW how you are. You put your all into everything—into volleyball, into photography, and yet you couldn’t even muster up a little bit of effort to try and keep relationship going. You couldn’t muster up any effort, despite you telling me how much you loved me. So like hell, you do Alex. Like hell.”

You let the tears flow. There was no use in stopping them now. But despite that, you still continue on. A shaky sigh passed through your lips.

“I’m not mad that you want to leave. I’m not mad that you wanna pursue your dreams. But don’t tell me that I’m the love of your life and then do everything in your power to leave me behind! Nobody who claims to love someone as much as you do would be so blatantly dishonest! Your actions don’t match your words and it’s sickening!!”

You didn’t hide the quiver in your voice. You wanted him to hear the pain in it. You continued still, despite how horse your voice had become.

“I tried everything in my power to make things work, because I love you. I know I did wrong, and I’ll own up to that every single time. But do NOT put all the blame on me just because YOU don’t wanna be with me anymore! You are NOT completely blameless in all of this, and I’m sick and tired of you acting like you are!”

Your heart was pounding so loudly you could hear it in your ears. But you continued still.

“And I’ll be DAMNED if I let you go to New York thinking that what you did was even REMOTELY okay! You can’t just pull me out of your life with excuses and flowery words and cast me away whenever it suits you! I will NOT go out quietly, Alex! You will hear my mouth, and I want you to know that what you did was trifling!!”

Another shaky breath. In and out.

“If you had any love or respect for me at all, then you would’ve been straight up with me from the jump. There would’ve been no need for excuses or pointing fingers if you were just honest, Alex. I don’t know what was going through your head that day, but I’m telling you, I haven’t felt less human than in that moment, and I will NOT let you have the luxuary of living your best life in New York—not when you don’t understand what you’ve done wrong!”

Your eyes met his. They were as red and glassy as your own.

“I’m giving you a chance to break up with me the correct way. I want you to be honest. I want you to realize what you’ve done wrong. I want you to tell me straight up. No lies. No B.S. Please.”

A long, suffocating silence ensued. But Alex never said a word. He’d open his mouth, but nothing would come out—almost like the words would get caught in his throat before melting away. And whenever that happened he closed it. He did this for a good while—and each time, you waited for a response. And it felt like you were waiting forever.

But after what felt like an eternity, he simply hung his head and closed his mouth. He didn’t open it back up again. He didn’t have anything to say.

You couldn’t believe it. You were honest on the day he broke up with you, because that’s what he asked of you—and you felt like thats what he deserved. You were honest about where you were and who you were with when you left the apartment because thats what he deserved. You’ve been honest throughout this entire conversation. You poured your heart out to him, and told him how he made you feel, because thats what he deserved. And EVEN after all of that, he still wasn’t man enough to be honest with you. It was bad enough that your relationship was crumbling before your very eyes. It was even more terrible that you were losing him.

But you were literally giving him the oppurtunity to be honest with you right now, and he still wouldn’t take it. You weren’t even worthy enough for the truth.

That revelation cut deep. And it hurt so damn much.

And that hurt made you ANGRY.

“Forget it,” You growled, turning your attention back to your suitcase, “I should’ve known better than to ask a man who has such a hard time being honest to tell me the truth.”

He lifted his head as you began to pack.

“The craziest thing about this was how much you wanted me to be truthful to you on the day we broke up. You told me that trust is something that is crucial in a relationship, but I don’t know how you expect me to trust you when you can’t even practice what you preach. Integrity and effort is what keeps a relationship going, and you clearly lack BOTH of those things. I suggest you grow a fucking backbone and quick,”—You looked him directly in the eyes—“Or don’t be surprised when all of your future relationships end up like ours did.”

He didn’t say anything. He merely walked quietly out of the room.

………

You rolled your suitcase out of the bedroom. You wanted nothing more than to get out of this apartment and away from him.

“I’ll be back next Tuesday with my friends to pick up the rest of my stuff.”

You turned around and saw him standing there, right by the couch. He stared at you, eyes red and wide. His eyebrows knitted—creased with worry. And that same hurt and pain that was beheld behind the color of burnt sienna.

But you didn’t feel anything this time.

You opened the door.

“Goodbye, Alex. Hope your passion keeps you fucking warm at night.”

You walked out of that apartment—leaving Alex with nothing but a hollow feeling in his gut and the loud slam of the door ringing in his ears.

———————————💔———————————-

A/N: Good GOD, ya’ll. This was probably one of the most difficult fics I’ve ever written because it has so much dialogue in it!

I’m so sorry for the wait, ya’ll. But writing for Alex is actually really friggin’ exhausting because of how pissed he makes me. There will be more stories with Alex in them, but they will be spread few and far in between!

Also, sorry that’s so damn long💀 I didn’t wanna break it up into a third part because that’d be just stupid.

I hope ya’ll like it!

(And before any of ya’ll ask, YES, Kimahri was named after Saku’s pet cat.)

@tranquility-base-casino

Masterlist

[jungle-angel]

Afternoon Bedrest (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: Bob’s definitely not feeling good after a week and a half away from home. Lucky for him, he’s got the best caretaker in the world.....you

You sat out on the porch, the sun shining high in the sky, listening to the waves crashing on the beach and the click of your knitting needles repeating like a typewriter. You heard a truck pulling up just mere minutes later, the little black kitten springing forth from your yarn basket before you caught him in time. 

“Oh no,” you warned him, lifting him right into your lap. “No you don’t. You’re waiting until the man of the house gets up here.” 

You watched as Bob made his way up the short walk, but quickly noticed he was without that usual happy spring in his step that never seemed to leave him. He looked tired, almost zombielike and a little pale. “Bobby?” you called to him, doing your best to restrain the kitten in your hands. 

Bob hobbled up the stairs, wincing a little bit. “Talk to me Bob,” you told him. “What’s wrong?” 

“Got bad stomach cramps,” he groaned. 

“Here, let’s get you into the house,” you told him. 

You guided him in before carefully setting the kitten right on the cat tower. Tank tried to jump up on Bob, but one light tap on the nose told the burly Rottweiler that this was neither the time nor the place. 

You led Bob right into your shared bedroom, helping him into the bed and stroking his hair. “What happened?” you asked him, placing a kiss on his sweaty forehead. 

“We were out on a training exercise,” Bob explained sleepily. “Desert survival.” 

“Did you eat something?” 

Bob nodded as you carefully removed his glasses and set them on the nightstand. “Nothing but MREs.” 

“Oh,” you said. “I see. And what exactly was in them?” 

“Cheese.” 

You bit your lip, quickly biting back a laugh that threatened to get out. You knew, from years of experience, what it meant when someone ate the cheese in the MRE packets. 

“Ok,” you said with a smile. “Lie on your back and I’ll get in with you.” 

Bob grimaced as he scooted over, a bolt of pain shooting through him, only receding when he was able to relax on his side of the bed again. ”Mind if I um...?” 

The pleading look on Bob’s face said otherwise. 

“Bob, sweetie, it’s just a check for appendicitis.” 

He whimpered reluctantly as he stripped off his t-shirt and laid flat on his back. Maybe it was a slight chill in the room, but Bob shivered when he felt your warm hands rubbing along his lower belly. He didn’t realize either that your touching had nearly put him to sleep, leaving one arm draped lazily across his eyes. 

“You’re full of shit,” you chuckled. 

“C’mon baby, I’m in pain,” Bob groaned. “I don’t need this right now.” 

“No, you’re literally full of shit,” you explained. “How long were you eating that MRE mac’n’cheese for?” 

“Bout ten days?”

“Oh my God,” you blurted out. “Bob, seriously?” 

“It was the only thing that tasted halfway decent.” 

You smiled and shook your head before kissing both of his cheeks which were warmer than hell. “I’ll take you to the doctor later.” 

“No, no baby,” Bob pleaded. “No doctor.” 

“Bob, if we don’t get this fixed you’re gonna wind up with an obstruction and will probably have to have surgery.” 

Bob finally gave in at the mere thought of it, letting you do the work and forcing himself to relax. It wasn’t easy just laying there while your fingertips massaged his abdomen, but after a while, Bob started growing sleepier than he had before. 

“Thank you baby,” Bob murmured. “I love you.” 

“I love you too Bob,” you answered. “I always will.” 

You kissed his stomach before crawling back in beside him and resting your head on his chest as his arms coiled around you. He kissed the crown of your head before the two of you fell asleep, completely oblivious to the world around you and deeply comforted by the closeness you felt with each other. 

***********************

The base was busy as ever with pilots coming and going, taking off and landing for training, yet the rest of the Daggers found themselves heading for the hangar to help the new recruits with their own training.

Phoenix noticed Bob heading up to the hangar, lively as ever and eager to get to work. “You’re real happy this morning,” she remarked. 

“Never slept so good in my life,” Bob said happily as he sauntered off to go and put his things away in the lockers. 

Phoenix raised an eyebrow and felt her phone vibrating in her pocket a moment later. She pulled it out to find a message from you splayed across the front. 

Phoenix: Bob’s real happy this morning. Last I saw, he looked like a zombie stumbling to the truck

You: Gave him a little TLC last night after he got home. He’s definitely feeling better

Phoenix: That’s great! Glad to hear!

You: Yeah, the only thing though is I’ve gone through at least ten cans of Febreeze in the last half hour or so. Our bathroom could pass for a demilitarized zone

A loud laugh flew from Phoenix’s throat the minute she saw your message and the photos of you wearing a gas mask that Bob’s grandfather had used in Korea. “What?” Bob asked. “What’s so funny?” 

“Look what (y/n) just sent me!” 

Bob looked at the pictures and turned beet red. “Phoenix if this goes viral.....” 

“Oh believe me we’re gonna give you so much grief for this one,” she laughed. 

[abiiors]

halloween 🎃 // george daniel x reader

promptober '23 - day 31

a/n: omg the last one 🥹. bbf!george, this one's for you!! and also hehe i have been evil, as is the theme for halloween :) cw: suggestive so i'm just gonna add the mdni anyway wc: 1k

“boo!”

george startles and almost drops the joint he’s been quietly smoking in the alleyway behind his house. it’s quiet at this time of the evening—well, as quiet as it can get with a bunch of people partying inside and screaming louder than the music thumping through the speakers. 

it’s especially loud this year considering they just moved out and into a little matchbox apartment. 

but it’s theirs. 

it’s george’s own space, free from his parents and free from matty’s (as much as he loves denise and tim). downside though—he hasn’t seen her, in quite a while. 

and now here she is, shit-eating grin on her angelic face (literally, she’s in all white with a crooked halo hanging off her head for dear life). there’s glitter on her eyelids that blinds him in the moonlight. and george can’t help but grin back. 

“hi, sweetheart,” he approaches her, a bit shy for some reason and about to say something when she launches herself at him and engulfs him in a bear hug. 

“i missed you!”

his heart skips a beat. she missed him… she missed him. 

she smells faintly of alcohol, maybe even a cigarette and george stops to think about how much she’s changed in the last few months, how much she’s come out of her shell. 

“i missed you too, sweet girl,” he murmurs in her hair and closes his eyes. “you could come by more often you know…”

she laughs in his chest. “i love my brother but not enough to stop by every week.”

she’s teasing, george knows she’s just taking the piss, but it stings regardless. because of course, why would she stop by their place if not to see matty? as far as matty is concerned george is just casual friends with her. someone she hangs out with along with matty’s other friends. 

“besides,” she continues, “your flat is on the third floor. can’t exactly climb the pipe up, can i?”

“i—” george clears his throat and pulls away. the joint dangles between his fingers, burning away and crumbling to ash by the minute but he doesn’t necessarily care about it at the moment. 

“you don’t have to…” he murmurs and clears his throat. “you don’t… we could, we should tell matty…”

she stares at him for a moment and george suddenly feels stupid. tell matty what exactly? it’s not like she’s his girlfriend. fuck, maybe he should start by figuring that out first and then—

but then she breaks into the most breathtaking smile he’s ever seen and for a moment george stops breathing. 

“you want to? i mean what would we even tell him? that we want to try dating? god this feels like being in the 50s! it’s not like i need his permission,” she rambles on, pausing very very briefly to take a deep breath and george stifles his smile. 

“it’s not like i’d ever expect him to ask my permission if he wanted to date one of my friends. actually no, scratch that, matty with one of my friends, that’s nightmare fuel. but oh my god, let’s not tell him about the… you know… about us—”

“having sex?” george grins and she shiftily looks away. 

“yeah,” she whispers, “yeah that.”

he flicks the joint aside and takes a step forward, towering over her until she’s pressed against the wall and looking at him through her eyelashes. a flush spreads over her cheeks, right under her artificial blush, subtle enough that he would have missed it had it not been for her biting her bottom lip nervously. 

that makes him groan. 

“fuck, sweetheart,” his hands rest on the wall on either side of her face. “i love it when you blush.”

“i wasn’t–i was—” but george is already cutting her off with a kiss. 

his teeth tug on her bottom lip, hands sliding down to her waist so he can pull her closer. public alleyway be damned, he needs to feel her now. he needs to swallow all her soft sounds and feel her giggles reverberate into his chest. when her fingers tangle into his hair, he almost groans with pleasure. 

fuck. she’s kissing him back just as hungrily. fingers playing with a few strands of his hair while her hips grind against his and fuck, he wants to have her now but not here, not like this. and so george continues to kiss her like a man starved, trying and failing to find the willpower to pull away. just another few seconds. just another minute. 

“shit, shit,” she pulls away first, looking at him with wide eyes and lipstick smeared around her mouth. “george, i–fuck, take me back to your room?”

“now?” he tries not to sound to eagers, not to freak her out but really he wants to fucking whoop with joy. 

almost like she can read his mind, she tugs him towards her once again for another quick, searing kiss. another one that knocks the wind right out of his chest. 

“now,” she confirms. the word half disappears onto his lips. 

and then she pulls away, grabbing onto his hand. 

if george had turned even a second sooner, he would have missed it—missed the way her face goes from flushed and eager to pale and grey. would have missed the way her breath hitches and she practically stumbles into the wall. 

if george had turned even a second sooner, it might just have been him stumbling into the wall instead. 

“fuck…” she whispers again, sounding absolutely nothing like she did just seconds ago. “matty, i—”

but the words die on her throat. 

and at the mouth of the alleway, matty’s jaw drops to the floor. 

lemme know what you think <33

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add yourself to the taglist

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

can i request bucky taking care of you after a long day at work? he cooks or orders in, helps you take a bath/shower, gives you lots of cuddles, reminds you how wonderful and strong you are.

(if you want something less fluff and more hurt/comfort maybe it's bucky taking care of you after a mission gone wrong. you're injured and traumatized, he knows how that is--he's been there. it's hard for him to see you like this, and all he wants to do is make it better)

okay, hope this isn't too long or anything!

༉‧₊˚. 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲, 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥. || 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

― pairing: bucky barnes x plus size professor!reader

― summary: no one ever said being a professor is easy, especially not when you're up to your neck in assignments you have to grade, but never fear, bucky will always be there to take care of his favorite teacher.

― warnings: literally none!

― wc: 865

⋆ a/n: thank you so much for your request! i'm so sorry this took literally forever and i'll admit that I've been slacking on answering requests, but i swear that i'm getting better! this'll actually be my second request i answer today i'm pretty sure!

masterlist | AO3

Sometimes you really regret your profession.

It wasn't like teaching the wise brains of tomorrow was all that bad, it was just exhausting, and being an advanced placement teacher, your students got more class work and tests than what you would have been comfortable with assigning. Of course, you let them know that, and they kind of expected it since they paid to take your course, but that just meant that you were up the spout with things that you needed to grade. You were kind of grateful for the spoiled rich students that took your class because they almost never turned anything in, so that just made your job easier.

Huffing as you walked in, Bucky could already sense what kind of mood you're in. He was surprised that you had managed to escape your classroom so early, you usually stayed in later. Kicking off your shoes, Bucky walked over to come and greet you, taking your coat off of you and hanging it up in the hall closet.

"How was work today?" He asked. You turned to look at him, tiredness written all over your face as you allowed yourself to collapse face first into his solid chest. "What if I just quit?" He heard you mumble into his shirt. He couldn't help but chuckle, his chest rumbling against your face as he wrapped his arms around your waist. "Your master's degree would have gone to shit then." He said crudely. You laughed, resting your chin on his sternum so that you could look up at him. "I guess so." You let the silence of the house bring you peace after having a full day of teaching rowdy young adults.

"How about I order in and run you a bath? Let me take care of you, doll." Bucky suggested. You weren't even going to lie and say that you could take care of yourself like you usually would, getting pampered tonight was exactly what you needed. "Yes, Buck, please." He bent down, wrapping his arms around your thick thighs so that he could haul you into his embrace. On any other day, you would have chided him, saying something like he was going to hurt himself even though he was a genetically modified human being, if anything, you felt like a sheet of paper. Bucky would say that you're probably the lightest thing he's ever picked up.

You allowed him to carry you to your shared room where you nuzzled into him, even though your embrace was broken by him gently setting you down. He began to take off your cardigan, followed by your white tank top, leaving you in your bra as he bent down to feel your feet from your flats. You sat down on the side of your bed, Bucky massaging your feet as you let out a content sigh. "God Buck," You said with a delirious laugh, "If I didn't know any better, I would have thought you were a masseuse." He let out a laugh too, lifting up both if his hands and wiggling his fingers, "It's all in the hands, sweets." He then sent you a wink as he reached for the band of your jeans, tugging them down.

His touches were innocent, completely focused on your comfort.

"You can lay here while the tub fills up, I just hope the food will get here after you get out." He pressed against your forehead before heading for the bathroom. You followed his instructions, getting cozy in your bed as you watched him turn on the water, searching through the cabinets in your bathroom for a bath bomb and bath salts. You smiled fondly, Bucky picking out all of your favorite scents.

"Alright, dollface. The water is all warm 'n smelling good." You got up, walking to the bathroom while he left to the living to order the food. You stripped the rest of your clothing, sinking into the warm water. Your muscles easily relaxed as the water enveloped your large body, caressing the aching parts of you as you felt like falling asleep.

You stayed in the water until the water slowly began to turn cold, your fingertips shriveled up like raisins despite how good and soft your body felt and smelled due to the bath bomb. Wrapping yourself up in the robe that was left folded for you on the toilet seat, you walked out into the kitchen where the Chinese takeout sat on the counter.

"The food's here just in time." Bucky said with a soft smile. "Chinese?" He nodded, wrapping his arms around you and leading you to the table so that you could sit down. He pulled the chair out for you so that you could sit down. "Mhm, your favorite." He sat down in front of you, both of you silently eating. The silence was peaceful, something that you didn't know you needed after the long day you had.

Words couldn't express how grateful for Bucky you were. Sometimes you questioned what you did in your past life to be able to deserve him, and you knew that if you brought this up to your boyfriend, he'd ask himself the same thing.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback

[mirily09]

Some small povs, I wanted 2 share <3

Sharing ur dorm bed with Rafe wasn't easy at all, at least for him. U had a small bed that measured 120×200 cm, which didn't exactly accommodate your 188cm tall boyfriend in a comfortable way. There was nothing to do, though, in order to see you with your busy campus schedule, Rafe had to compromise. He had tried a 100 times to convince u to let him rent u a nice flat with a good-sized bed, but u couldn't agree. He was so generous and spoiled u whenever he could, so u didn't feel like it was fair to take even more. Also, secretly, u loved squeezing tight to his big muscled frame in your small bed.

*after sex he'd lay splayed out on the small space, tugging u to his side. One hand on the soft, naked curve of ur ass and the other under his head. Your body front pressing to his torso and ur hand on his stomach, breathing heavily from his high. He'd ask "u okay doll?" and you'd smile, nodding into his chest. U wouldn't want it any other way.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Rafe picking u up from an outing w ur friends by literally picking u up and carrying u- one hand under ur ass, the other on ur back. Ur girl friends just smile knowingly at Rafe who gives them a smirk. U just bury ur head in his neck, breath in his scent and hold him tight after missing him all day long. He'd walk out of the building proudly, not caring about anyone's looks. U were his girl.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Rafe has been downstairs on the balcony for hours now, discussing business with the always smirking Barry. U usually avoided seeing him, as his dirty looks made u uncomfortable. Rafe did shout at Barry whenever he noticed and had once even punched him, but that didn't keep Barry from sneaking small glances.

As much as u hated the unwanted attention though, your need for Rafe had grown to such measures that u didn't care anymore. U went downstairs and saw both men sitting on the big, comfy garden chairs facing each other. Barry smoked a cig, listening to Rafe who was currently busy explaining something. U opened the glass door, getting both of their attention with Rafe greeting u "Hi pretty girl.", he seemed to be in a good energetic mood. "Hi baby! Missed ya up there", u smiled at him and shortly gave a polite nod to Barry who smirked at you. "Come here!", Rafe patted his lap, signaling you to take a seat. You walked over to Rafe's chair but instead of sitting down as he expected, you put your legs on each side of Rafe's, facing him and placing a small kiss on cheek before laying your head on his shoulder. Your boyfriend looked surprised but still let you stay, pulling your dress down that had slightly exposed your upper legs and rested his hand right above your ass. He continued his conversation while typing on his phone with the free hand. Barry listened while Rafe gave his orders. U were satisfied, feeling your boyfriend's muscled chest against yours, his strong hand on your back and his scent in your nose. In the background u heard Rafe scolding Barry to not check out ur butt on his lap; u couldn't care less though. The more u felt of Rafe, the more u wanted. How could u get him to send Barry away and be with you? U moved your head a little closer to his neck to play soft kisses to his skin, nearing the one place near his jaw that he usually couldn't resist. Before you had reached it, Rafe turned his head to u, whispering "What's going on, doll?". "You've been working for hours now.. can't I convince u to send Barry away for now?", u smiled against his skin, pressing another kiss to his velvety skin. Before he could answer, u heard Barry shuffle in his seat and Rafe snapping at him "getting hot of my girlfriend or what?". "She's putting on a show, it's not my fault bro!". "Get outta here man and get yourself a girl!", Rafe told him in a cold, menacing tone that made Barry jump to his feet, excuse himself with a dumb smile and making sure to quickly leave the grounds. With Barry out of sight, Rafe gripped the plush flesh of your ass with both his hands, turning his head to you and murmuring "u satisfied now, princess?". "Very!", u kissed his lips.

[jumpywhumpywriter]

A Life in the Hands of the Enemy -- Villain reluctantly saves Hero's Life part 9

Warnings: violence, bleeding, near-death experience, captivity whump, cruel Villain whumper

He gestured to the syringe in his hand with a knowing smirk. "This is a strong sedative. Whether you'd like to proceed with the operation conscious or unconscious is entirely up to you. All you have to do is ask me for it." He gave it a second to sink in as Amber narrowed her eyes at him distrustfully, clearly thinking he was going to sedate her no matter what answer she gave, and that offering her a choice was only another form of torment. Wrong. Dead wrong. Another miscalculation on her part.

"Conscious it is," Zack said without batting an eye, and promptly rolled up her shirt to expose her midsection. Amber shivered as he wiped antiseptic across her skin, quickly realizing that he wasn't kidding. He'd do the procedure whether she was awake or not. It was only when he picked up a scalpel that it finally hit her.

"Wait... WAIT!" She shouted, straining against her restraints and eyeing the blade with a flicker of genuine fear.

"Yes?" He looked at her innocently, his voice dripping with hidden danger.

"Okay, fine... k-knock me out..." Amber stammered weakly, her voice dropping to a low whisper.

"What's the magic word?" He twirled the scalpel skillfully in his hand, flashing her a sly grin. He enjoyed the rush of power he got from these kind of games. Knowing he could get his victims to say whatever he wanted... holding their life on a thread...

Amber's face reddened with anger and humiliation.

"Speak now, or forever live with your answer," Zack pressed, and lightly touched her side with the flat side of the scalpel, making her squirm in fear.

"Please..." Amber finally hissed through gritted teeth, looking as though it physically pained her to force the word out of her mouth. She knew exactly what he was doing with his mind tricks, and hated giving him the satisfaction of winning. But her defiance wasn't worth the pain it would cost her, in this particular instance.

Zack smiled coldly, setting down the scalpel to pick the syringe up again. "See? That wasn't so hard. Good manners are basic common courtesy."

Amber scowled viciously at him with a glare that could wilt the petals off of roses as he rolled up her shirt sleeve. Her arm was stiff with coiled tension as he injected the sedative into her bloodstream.

"Don't worry, you're in good hands. I'll have these pieces of lead out of you in no time."

"Now why don't I believe you?" Amber sniped. "You're a cruel killer with a genius mind who likes to play mind games and tear your victims apart. Literally, not metaphorically. Your hands are anything BUT 'good'."

Zack shrugged with a laugh. "You're right, I can't deny my nature. But you're a special case. I need you alive and healthy to carry out my pet projects, so for once, your best interests are at the forefront of my genius mind. For my sake."

"You... sadistic... prick..." Amber mumbled, her voice slurring as her eyelids grew heavy. Another second and she was out like a light, tension leaving her features as she slipped into unconsciousness.

Zack shook his head to himself as he gathered the rest of the medical tools he would need to extract the bullets and shrapnel. Almost no one besides Amber knew that he had been an emergency surgeon in his past, one of the best of the best in the city, once dedicated to saving lives.

Until he decided to leave his career and become a villain, using his skills to hurt instead of heal. He'd sometimes perform live operations or dissections on people who had crossed or betrayed him without using anesthesia, sharpening his skills while getting satisfaction out of his enemies' suffering. Double win. Another bonus was that it set an example to anyone else who dared to think they could outsmart his genius mind. His intellect was one of his greatest tools.

Amber was lucky he had given her the option to be knocked out at all, considering how she'd acted up earlier. But Zack decided to have a little grace and not punish her quite yet, as she was still learning the rules of his hospitality. She still needed to learn to obey him better. He'd enjoy watching her fiery defiance fade into compliance. He knew all the ways to break down a person's defenses, bit by bit.

He'd been this villain for over two decades; he wasn't new to the game. Zack hummed to himself as he got to work, carefully cutting into Amber's side with practiced precision, his surgeon's steady hand serving him well.

Only a few minutes and he found the first bit of metal, a 9mm bullet lodged dangerously close to an artery. He carefully extracted it, dropping it into a collection container with a plink.

He alternated between operating and double checking his x-rays to make sure he was getting it all. After roughly an hour and a half had passed, he dropped the last piece of sharp shrapnel into the container with the rest, heaving a sigh. Amber really had it rough. She was covered in scars of all ages, both old and new. Just because she had accelerated healing, didn't mean injuries wouldn't leave a permanent mark.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

[melonteee]

tbh i genuinely dont understand why zoro is as popular as he is. i dont mean this in an 'ugh he sucks!' way but, like, compared to the other strawhats i always feel like he's lacking... something. idk what. he's a good character, but where as i can really get into the others on there own, digging it when they have solo adventures, zoro only really interests me when hes interacting the other strawhats. his solo moments fall flat.

he feels like a character who people like more cuz he gets a lotta cool battle/'bro' moments than anything else.

again, im not hating on zoro, he has a lot of great qualities. if anything im baffled because i cant even exactly pin point what the rest have that he lacks (in my eye)! its just... like robin or frankey or usopp or brooke or, yes, even sanji have this depth that is so much more intereging and enjoyable, i simply cant understand having zoro as a fave with them around. hes just. there.

Zoro is just very cool to a lot of men lol. But outside of that, I totally understand his popularity because he’s a very stable character, he feels like someone you want as a friend because you know he’ll always look out for you. He’s also someone you can desire to be due to his insane strength of will and drive to achieve a near impossible dream.

Zoro’s one of my top favourites as well, but for me it’s because he subverted my expectations! I expected him to be so boring and stoic, instead? He was so funny and goofy, he’s literally a charming idiot. He’s got a scary face and a heart of gold, and the way he clearly WANTS to be cool and WORKS to be cool is just so silly and endearing to me. Because I stand by that Zoro isn’t naturally cool, it’s a conscious effort he makes to be cool, and it makes me wanna pinch his cheeks and say he’s so cute for it lol.

I know a lot of guys don’t see him that way, but with how Zoro honestly gets embarrassed pretty easily, he’s just a cute guy LMAO I find it really hard not to like him and tease him. Tons of people like Zoro simply because he’s got different sides and qualities to him that different people see and latch onto!