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steddiealltheway · 1 year

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Some College AU

It’s about an hour after what Eddie is now naming “The Incident” when he storms into Nancy’s room. He glances down to the left where Nancy's roommate leaves her red converse - announcing she’s in the room. But right now, they're gone and only Nancy's shoes are in the spot. So, Eddie flops down on the plush rug in the center of the room and covers his eyes with his hands.

“Nancy, I fucked up. It was so embarrassing,” Eddie sighs and hears the telltale click of a laptop shutting from above him. She must be in her lofted bed, but it doesn’t matter because he needs to rant. “You know, maybe I should go ahead and drop out and save myself the embarrassment of once again running into the human embodiment of every single wet dream I’ve ever had.”

There’s a slight gasp that Eddie knows is Nancy’s “Eddie we’ve been friends forever, but there are just some things I do not need to know about you” gasp. But it’s not her turn to talk. In fact, she’s the exact reason he’s in this predicament because without her convincing him to apply to the same college and actually go with her, then he would never be here.

Eddie groans and rolls over onto his stomach burying his face in the rug. He points up behind him gesturing vaguely towards where Nancy is sitting and says, “This is all your fault, but thank you for always shampooing your carpet it smells nice.” It comes out more as a muffled mess, so Eddie sighs and turns his head to the side.

“But anyways. I had my damn intro to economics class, and please tell me why we have to take foundation courses later because I think it’s the stupidest thing on this planet except for me at the moment. Because before that class a beautiful, kind man had to clean chocolate milk out of his sweater because of me. And this is exactly why I will never show my face in the dining hall again or anywhere on campus, so I will never run into that perfect man again. End of story.” Eddie finishes his rant, knowing he’s going to say more because he still feels like a stupid idiot. Because yes, spilling a drink on someone is bad, but that’s just clumsiness and nerves and that’s forgivable. But when Adonis himself is target of said drink, and the drink is goddamn chocolate milk… that’s unforgivable.

Eddie groans and rolls onto his back to stare up at Nancy who will likely have her head poked over the side of her bed with that flat look of “are you done yet?” solely expressed through a tight smile. Only, Nancy isn’t peaking over the side of her bed. But out of the corner of his eye, he spots someone else glancing over the edge of Nancy’s roommate’s lofted bed.

Holy shit. It’s hot dining hall man. “Fuck shit fuck damnit,” Eddie eloquently says, scrambling to get up and immediately backing up into Nancy’s desk. “What the fuck?” Eddie heaves out. He’s died, and gone to his own personal Hell, that’s the only explanation for it.

“I’ve never been called beautiful before,” the man says with a big smile, cheeks slightly pink, and holy shit he’s so beautiful. Maybe Eddie has died and gone to his own personal heaven. Then the man is climbing down the ladder and giving Eddie the view of his life before he’s right in his space. “I’m Steve,” he says, holding his hand out.

Eddie automatically takes it and wills any part of his brain to work but it’s all been turned to goo as he shakes his hand. “What are you doing here?” Eddie asks, and he thanks himself for at least somehow reacting although he sounds pretty breathless.

“Robin’s my best friend. I'm just waiting for her to get back, but I think her and Nancy went out to get groceries or something. But it’s nice to formally meet you…” Steve trails off, and Eddie notices he’s still holding his hand with his very clammy one.

“Eddie,” he supplies when he realizes what Steve is prompting. Gosh he has such nice lips... and eyes… and hair… and a really nice nose honestly and… Eddie stops when he realizes he’s blatantly checking the man out once again. “Shit,” Eddie mumbles under his breath and takes his hand back.

“I’ve also never been called the human embodiment of someone’s wet dreams before,” Steve says. Oh shit. He’s really going to bring that up and not move past it. Eddie sighs, and prepares to apologize when he notices… Steve is smiling. An overwhelmingly charming type of smile as if he was flirting.

Eddie opens his mouth and says the first thing that comes to mind, “I spilt my chocolate milk on you.” He cringes. Okay, thinking before speaking is something else he needs to work on this semester. Got it.

“You did,” Steve says with an amused smile. He points to his shirt. “Changed and everything. Plus, the other sweater is fine, and it was too warm to wear today anyways.”

That is an absolute lie because it’s freezing outside. But Eddie doesn’t call him out on it. Instead he says, “Blue is a nice color on you. In the color way, not the… depressed way. Jesus H. Christ.” Eddie pauses, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. He opens them and with a wide smile he says, “Hell of a way to make a first impression.”

“I’ve noticed you around before,” Steve admits as if it were no big deal although their campus is fairly large, and Eddie had somehow never seen him before today, so he has no idea how that was possible.

“How have I never noticed you before?” Eddie asks honestly but takes pride in the way it makes Steve’s face flush. “Maybe you can make it up to me - all that lost time when my eyes were not graced by your beauty.” Yeah, he's still got it.

Steve laughs pleasantly and looks away somewhat bashfully, but he quickly recovers and leans into Eddie space. “Just tell me how to make it up to you, and I’ll do it.”

Eddie swallows. Oh, this is dangerous. He is dangerous. And Eddie knows exactly what he’s going to request first-

The door opens, and Eddie and Steve’s heads snap to the side. Nancy walks in and freezes.

“What’s wrong Nance? Why did you-” Robin walks in and also freezes. She takes a second to recover before she cracks a big smile and nudges Nancy. "You owe me ten bucks."

Nancy sighs and sets her grocery bags down then digs through her purse emerging with ten dollars which she hands to Robin. What the hell?

"What's that about?" Steve asks, not taking a step out of Eddie's personal space, but he's really not complaining.

"Robin bet ten bucks that you two would somehow meet and hit it off before we could introduce you guys," Nancy says then turns and smacks Robin on the arm. "You planned this didn't you?"

Robin puts her hands up. "I had no idea Steve or Eddie were coming over. Not my fault that we gave them copies of our keys."

"They're for emergency use only though," Nancy says then turns an accusatory finger at the boys. "What was your emergency?"

Eddie catches a quick glance at Steve. They both know what Eddie's "emergency" was, but Steve looks a bit reluctant to admit his. A quick glance towards Nancy, and Eddie is immediately spilling out the truth, "I ran into a hot guy in the dining hall and spilled chocolate milk all over him and needed to rant."

Nancy looks disappointed but satisfied in the answer, so she turns to Steve expectantly. Steve shoots Eddie a quick glance and runs a hand through his hair. He gives in and admits, "A cute guy spilled chocolate milk on me, and I wanted to talk about it..."

Eddie gapes at Steve. There's no way. There's absolutely no way this gorgeous man was there for that reason. Holy shit. Steve turns to Eddie and softly smiles at him, and Eddie absolutely melts at the sight.

Robin laughs, "Nancy, you owe me twenty bucks." And bless Nancy, she reaches into her purse and hands Robin ten more dollars as Eddie and Steve continue to stare at each other.

Maybe going to college was the best thing Nancy has ever convinced Eddie to do.

I currently have about zero time to be writing stuff, but I missed you all and missed getting to write steddie content, so I'm just glad to get something down.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie and nancy #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #steddie ficlet

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guccifrog · 3 months

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WRONG NUMBER P13

matt sturniolo x f!reader

y/n's pov ☆

It has been exactly five hours since they discovered the mix-up. Chris, Jimmy, and Marylou decided to go check the police station to see if they could find any updates about Matt.

Me and Nick decided to go on a little drive in my car to clear our heads. As we were driving, I could feel the tension in the air. Nick kept looking out the window, lost in his thoughts, while I tried to think of something to say to make him feel better.

"Hey, you know, at least there is still a chance that this is some sort of mistake, right?" I said to Nick, trying to sound more optimistic than I felt. "They're working on finding Matt and getting this sorted out. We just need to have faith in them."

He looked over at me, his eyes red from crying. "Yeah, you're right," he said, his voice barely audible.

We drove around for a while longer, neither of us saying much. The silence was almost painful, but neither of us knew what to say to make it better. Finally, Nick spoke up, breaking the silence. "I keep thinking about that guy on the bed. How his family must feel right now. It's just…unbelievable."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. The image of that man, so peaceful in his sleep, haunted me. I couldn't imagine the pain his family must be going through, thinking he was gone when he was really just a victim of this horrible mistake.

"Do you think he was rich though?" I asked smirking slightly "Like, really rich? Cause he looked pretty comfortable to me. I mean, that bed was like a fucking cloud." Nick chuckled a little, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"I'm just saying, maybe after this mess is done, I'll go ask him to be my sugar daddy if he's still alive" I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"stop oh my god," Nick said giggling "What? your girl needs a little money to feel better" I said with a smirk. "You know, if he was rich, I bet he'd be more than willing to help a girl out." I glanced over at Nick, trying to gauge his reaction. He was smiling, I grinned satisfied that I'd managed to make him laugh.

We drove in silence for a few more minutes before Nick decided to break the silence again " I'm so mad we met in these fucked up circumstances, you know?" I smiled softly at him " Well at least we met, right? I mean, even if it's under these horrible conditions. Maybe one day we'll look back at this and laugh about it." He snorted a little "So real girl "

We decide to grab some coffee from Starbucks to clear our heads. As we sit there, talking about random things or scrolling through our phones, I take a sip of my coffee, burning the roof of my mouth. "Ouch, damn it's hot," I complain, blowing on the coffee.

Nick suddenly shoots up from his seat, staring at his phone with wide eyes "Oh my god" he says. "what? What is it?!" I ask him, my heart racing.

He looks at me with his mouth agape, trying to find the right words. " It's Matt…they found Matt!!" he exclaims, his voice cracking.

I feel my whole body go limp with relief. "They found him at a different hospital !" He hugs me tightly, tears streaming down his face. I'm crying too, unable to contain my happiness. We sit there in the Starbucks, surrounded by the noise and chaos, but for a brief moment, nothing else matters but the fact that Matt is alive.

"Do you know what hospital?" I manage to ask between sobs, clinging to Nick.

"Chris sent me the address, let's go," He says, already halfway out of the seat. I follow him, feeling a mixture of excitement and fear as we both know what we're about to face.

The drive seems to take forever, but eventually, we pull up to the hospital and spot Jimmy's car in the parking lot. Our feet are moving before we even have the chance to think, hurrying into the building.

We find Chris and Marylou in the waiting room, looking just as relieved as we feel. They jump up when they see us, and we embrace tightly, not wanting to let go.

It feels like we're all holding our breath, waiting for the moment when we can see Matt again. The nurse finally calls our names, and we follow her down the hallway.

Our steps slow as we approach the door, our hearts racing. The nurse pushes it open, revealingn none other than Matt lying in the bed.

He looks tired and pale. We all rush forward, surrounding his bed.

"Hey buddy, you're gonna be okay," Chris says, squeezing his hand. The nurse cleared her throat making us turn to look at her.

"The good news is that he's alive," the nurse started. "He's still unconscious, but he's stable for now. He'll probably be unconscious for a few days but don't worry he'll wake up" She paused for a moment

" However, he suffered severe injuries, There is a chance that he may never regain full cognitive function or the ability to walk."

The words hang in the air, heavy.

"come again?" Chris said, his eyes wide with shock.

"Oh God," I whisper, smacking my hand over my mouth. I feel like I've been punched in the gut. Can't we just have one good thing today?

"you're joking right?" Nick asks, his voice cracking. The nurse rolled her eyes before shaking her head no. The fuck is this bitch rolling her eyes for?

taglist ☆

@mattestrella @chrisfavoritepepsi @sunsetsturniolos @littlebookworm803 @sturniozo @sturniolooooo @athaliahxoxo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ev3rgreenxtrees @nonamegirlxsturniolo @crybabycat1 @mooniethesimp31 @ducksturniolo @ifilwtmfc @pepsiimaxx @sleepysturnss @lustfulslxt @ilovemattsworld @hrt-attack @flowerxbunnie @leprechaunbirthdaygirl @secret-sturniolo @iluvmeeen @that-general-simp @swangelss @familynotfandom @fuckshitslover @styles-sturniolo @lvr-111 @opheliaofficial07 @kiarastromboli @hearts4chriss

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roosterforme · 1 year

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The Purrfect Storm | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley inadvertently becomes a pet owner after he hits a stray with his Bronco. When he meets a lovely vet tech who is willing to help, both Bradley and the cat fall for her instantly.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, a bit of angst

Length: 6000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written for a request! Check out my masterlist for more!

Bradley was on his way home late from work, anxious to get there before the sky opened up. Dark, ominous clouds had just moved in, signaling a rare downpour was about to hit San Diego.

He zipped along an empty, wooded side street just as a loud crack of thunder rocked his Bronco. Then his headlights caught something gray dashing out of the trees, and he tried his best to swerve, but he was afraid he had just hit an animal.

"Damn it," he muttered, pulling over and turning on his hazard lights. He jumped out of the Bronco to see if he could spot anything in the roadway. The wind was picking up, and he could feel the first few drops of rain, but as soon as Bradley saw the gray cat that was no longer able to walk correctly, he ran toward it.

When he got closer he saw a little bit of blood matted in its fur, and he immediately felt like a villain. He also had no idea how to take care of an injured cat.

"Here kitty?" he said awkwardly as he approached the immobile animal. He was greeted with a loud, angry meow. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry I hit you. But can you just be chill while I pick you up?"

As soon as he had both hands around the middle of the cat, it sank its sharp teeth into the back of his hand.

"Ow! Son of a bitch!" Bradley yelled, getting pelted with more raindrops. "I'm trying to help you now, you ungrateful little shit!"

Big, angry yellow eyes looked up at him as he clamped the cat's mouth shut with one big hand and then tried to scoop it up again. This seemed to work better, so he carted it back to the Bronco and set it on the back seat floor area.

"Just relax, I know where there's a veterinary clinic," he told it with an eye roll before he climbed back in and pulled away.

Bradley navigated a lot slower now that the rain was coming down. But when he pulled into the clinic parking lot, he only saw one light on inside. There was someone moving around at the front desk, so he hopped out into the pouring rain and gently held the cat with its mouth closed. He knocked on the door with his knuckle and watched the woman behind the front desk look at him a little warily before she headed toward the door.

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You were alone in the clinic with the door locked, trying to finish the weekly audit so you could leave. You always stayed late on Thursday nights, and now you were going to have to drive home in this crazy storm.

When you heard someone knocking on the door, you jumped in your seat. You tried to see who it was, but the rain was obscuring the window portion of the door, so you made your way over only to find a soaking wet man in a naval uniform holding a drenched cat.

"I'm sorry, we're closed," you told him loudly through the door.

He glared at the cat and then tilted his head back and let the rain pour on his face for a beat. Finally he groaned and looked at you with pleading eyes. "You can't do anything? I hit this cat on my way home from work!"

You sighed and looked at all of his insignia pins, including his nametag. Bradshaw. It was pretty unlikely that an officer was here to murder you, especially since a good portion of your clients were naval families. Plus, he had actually brought the injured animal here instead of leaving it in the road.

"I can take a quick look," you told him as you unlocked the door. When you opened it and finally got a good look at him, you went a little speechless. He was really tall and really muscular. And even with his brown hair wet and messy across his forehead, you could tell he was really handsome. "Come on in," you managed to say, and he slipped inside with the cat. You locked the door behind him.

"Thanks. I really appreciate this. I feel terrible enough about what happened, but this cat hates me so much right now, I'd be a little afraid to take it to my house with me in this condition."

You laughed as he winced at you, and you immediately noticed the teeth marks on the back of his hand.

"Oh, he got you good," you remarked. "Definitely doesn't like you too much at the moment. Let's see if I can get him patched up."

"It's a male?" officer Bradshaw asked as you signalled for him to follow you back to an exam room.

"Yeah, I figured he was, because he's huge. But he definitely is. I could tell when you held him up."

Bradley scoffed. "I should have known. Females are usually more accommodating towards me."

You laughed softly and said, "I'll bet they are," under your breath. But then you realized that you were the sucker who agreed to let him get his cat checked out after hours. So you definitely shouldn't be surprised.

"Up on the table," you instructed, and you watched him release the cat and take a huge step away from it. "Aww, come on. He's a sweetheart!" you said, stroking the cat and making him purr. "What did he ever do to you?"

You watched officer Bradshaw hold up his bloody hand with a bland look.

"That's totally fair since you ran him over," you said with a smirk. "And I'll look at your hand after I see how much damage there is to his leg here."

"Thank you," he muttered, reaching for a paper towel to press against his hand while he dripped water all over the floor. "I appreciate it. I'm Bradley, by the way."

You glanced at him briefly and smiled as you told him your name. "And what's the cat's name?"

Bradley just shrugged. "He doesn't have a collar, and he's pretty grungy. He's probably a stray."

"You should name him then," you said as you felt around the cat's leg with gentle fingers. It was a pretty clean break that you would be able to take care of tonight without the vet here.

"Sunshine," Bradley said sarcastically. "His name is Sunshine." You looked up at him, and he was smiling at you and the cat, his handsome features betraying his stern voice as he smiled.

"Did you hear that, Sunshine? Your daddy clearly thinks the world of you, and he's going to take the best care of your leg after I splint it."

"I am?" he asked, leaning closer to you. "Come on, doc. I can't keep this cat. He'll kill me in my sleep," he reiterated, holding up his hand and the bloody paper towel. He wasn't wearing a ring.

You laughed at the concerned look on his face. "Okay, first of all, I'm not the vet. I'm just a tech. Second, someone needs to take care of Sunshine, and I think that someone is going to be you. And third, girls dig guys who have pets. Does that help make this more appealing for you?"

He took another step closer to you, and your breath caught in your throat. He was just a few inches away and glaring playfully at you. "First of all, you seem to know what you're doing well enough, so you could have lied and told me you were the vet. Second, Sunshine here will have me sleeping with one eye open. And third, yeah, maybe that does make this more appealing to me."

Your belly swooped, and you had to bite your lip. His brown eyes were the color of deep amber up close, and his mustache made everything he said seem more playful.

"And fourth," he added, "do all women dig men who have pets? Or are you speaking from personal preference here? Either way, it does sound appealing to me."

You were gaping at him now, and a startled laugh escaped your parted lips.

Meow!

"Sorry, Sunshine," you told the cat, patting his matted, damp fur until he was calm again. "You're right. This is about you, not Bradley." You positioned yourself in front of the cat and grinned over your shoulder. "I think it's all women, but it's definitely me," you whispered with a smile. You were met with a crooked grin as Bradley pushed his damp hair back from his face.

"Good to know," he told you softly.

And now it was time to get to work. You made a mental list of all of the supplies you would need, then you turned to Bradley and reached for his good hand. He grabbed onto yours without hesitation. "Here, keep a hand on Sunshine and make sure he stays on the table," you said, running your thumb along his calloused fingers.

"Alright," he said a bit reluctantly, squeezing your hand before letting go of you and holding the cat.

"I'll be right back with everything I need for the splint."

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

Bradley watched you leave the small room, and he took a second to breathe in deeply and let it out slowly. You were fucking adorable. And he was very attracted to you.

"Don't mess this up for us now," he told the cat as he waited for you to return. By the sound of things, the storm was still raging outside, but Bradley was in no hurry to leave anyway. He was still wet from the rain, and he probably looked like a mess, but it didn't matter. He'd stay here all night with you if you'd let him.

You strolled back into the room with some bandages, splints, and a weird thing covered in velcro. "This will only take a minute," you told him and Sunshine with a smile. He watched you measure the split against the cat's leg before cutting it to length. Then you set the bone in place with your fingers, gently talking the whole time so the cat would stay calm. Next you quickly wrapped the splint up tight with the bandage.

"Now I need your help," you told Bradley, and you took his hand again. "Hold this bandage just like that so I can clip it in place."

Bradley did exactly as he was told, and soon you were wrapping the velcro around everything to keep the cat's leg in one position.

"Done!"

"Impressive," Bradley remarked. Even the cat looked way calmer now as he curled up on the exam table and ate the snack you gave him.

"Okay, now let me check you out," you said, holding out your small hand and letting him rest his palm against yours. "I'll need to clean it to get a better look," you told him, gazing up at him. "Might sting a bit."

"I can handle it," he reassured you as you led him to the sink.

"I'm sure you can... Lieutenant? Is that what I'm looking at here?" you asked, nodding to the pins on his chest as you sprayed his hand with an antiseptic and dabbed at it with a cotton ball.

"Yes, ma'am. Lieutenant Bradshaw," he told you, earning a smile.

"At ease, sailor." Your gaze was playful as you looked up at him and grabbed a clean cotton ball.

"Aviator, actually," Bradley informed you.

"Oh, wow. Your daddy is fancy," you said over your shoulder to the cat who was now grooming himself on the exam table.

"I still can't believe I have a cat now," he muttered, making you laugh as you taped some sterile gauze to the back of his hand. "You should give me your number since I don't know what I'm doing. You know... just in case. You wouldn't want Sunshine to suffer in any way, would you?"

You smirked up at him as you finished taping him up. Bradley just gave you his most innocent look in return. "You're something else," you told him.

"Something good?" he asked, and he watched your lips curl into a soft smile.

A loud rumble of thunder had Sunshine standing up and hissing. "It's okay," you told him, turning to reach for him, but then the power went out, bathing everything in complete darkness.

Bradley heard a thump that sounded like Sunshine had jumped off the table, and when he reached out, the cat was no longer there.

"Oh no, he's loose somewhere in the building," you said, taking out your phone and turning on the flashlight. "Sunshine!" you called, shaking the bag of cat treats. Bradley followed you out into the hallway, but he bumped into the back of you.

"Sorry," he said, stopping himself with his hands on your shoulders.

"It's okay," you said softly as he took his hands away from you and tucked them into his wet pockets.

"Can he hurt anything? Or get hurt?" Bradley asked, looking up and down the hallway as you shone the light around.

"Aww, you sound like a concerned pet parent."

Bradley groaned. "He's growing on me, I think."

Your laughter rang out in the semi-darkness before the light went out.

"Shit, my phone died," you told him.

Bradley checked his only to find he had about ten percent of his battery left. "Mine is not far behind yours."

"Don't use it, just in case we need to call someone," you said, turning to face him. Bradley could feel your hands on his chest very briefly. "Oh, there you are," you said softly. "Come with me to the waiting room, and I'll get you some towels."

Bradley felt your fingers dance down along his arm until they tangled with his. Then you were leading him back to the front of the building. It was a little easier to see up here, as a streetlight outside provided some light.

"Don't move," you instructed softly, and Bradley could make out the shape of your profile as you turned away from him and disappeared.

He was stuck here now. He wasn't sure if he should be thankful or upset. But he couldn't leave Sunshine loose in the clinic for the night. And he supposed you were stuck here too, since you couldn't leave him here alone with his dumb cat.

Bradley saw you in the shadows when you returned. "I got you some towels and a set of scrubs you can change into. My boss is about your size."

"Thanks," he replied, taking everything from your hands. "Where should I change?"

You laughed. "It doesn't matter. I can't see you."

"What if the power comes back on?!"

You laughed harder, and Bradley loved the sound. "Go back behind my desk, and I'll turn around."

Bradley took a few steps and then slammed into a file cabinet. "Ow!"

"Oh sorry, don't hit the file cabinet," you said in a sweet voice laced with laughter.

"Don't worry. I won't." Bradley awkwardly stripped out of his damp uniform and underwear with you standing ten feet away from him. He had to peel the fabric from his skin and hang it over your chair as neatly as he could.

"So you're an aviator. What do you fly? Super Hornets? Helicopters? Comanches?" you asked as he ran one of the towels along his naked body.

"You know a lot about naval aircrafts. And to answer your question, Super Hornet." He slipped into the well worn scrubs and tied them up at the waist. They were a little snug, as was the shirt, but it was better than being wet.

"It's hard to live near Fightertown and not pick up on a few things," you told him. "You need help getting back around the file cabinet?"

"Nah, I'm good," he said, and somehow he found your hand in the darkness. And somehow you let him hold it.

You laced your fingers with his and softly said, "Maybe we should try to find Sunshine one more time? Otherwise, I think we're stuck here for the night."

Bradley silently prayed that Sunshine was tucked safely away somewhere he couldn't be found in the dark. "That's a good idea," he confirmed out loud. Because he did feel kind of bad making you stay at your workplace all night, especially since he barged in on you unannounced with the cat. "I'm sorry I've been such an inconvenience when you were just trying to be helpful."

"Don't worry about it. I'm a sucker for injured animals. And brunettes."

Jesus. Bradley had been afraid maybe you had a boyfriend or something. But now you were flirting with him again, just like you had been earlier. You were also holding his hand a little tighter. And each time you wanted to change directions, you placed your other palm on his chest.

"This is kind of fun," he murmured when you had your palm on his chest, guiding him into a different exam room.

"Is it?" you asked with a giggle.

"Yeah," he said, smiling as you pushed him where you wanted him to go. "It feels like one of those games from when you were in high school, you know? Spending time alone with a cute girl in the dark."

He could hear you exhale and feel it against his neck. You were so close to him. "Seven minutes in heaven?" you asked close to his ear.

"Yeah, seven minutes in heaven," he confirmed, grinning like a lunatic.

"I never played that in high school," you told him, letting go of his chest to feel around the exam table for the cat. "Did you?" He felt your palm come to rest on him again.

"Once or twice. But I was a real nerd back then. I just made it further with you than I ever did in high school," he admitted. Your soft laughter filled the room, and now Bradley was praying in earnest that Sunshine was very, very well hidden until the morning.

"I find it hard to believe you used to be a nerd. You're very...."

"I'm very what?" he asked as you effortlessly lured him all around the dark clinic with you.

"Sizeable," you told him as you ended up back in the hallway again.

"Sizeable?" he balked. "Did you just call me large?"

You were laughing again, and he really wished he could see your face right now. "I meant it as a compliment!" you insisted.

"Ohhh," he said, feigning ignorance. "You must have never given someone a compliment before. Here, let me show you how. You're funny, smart, and very cute."

"Thank you," you whispered, leading him into one more exam room.

"I wasn't done yet. You're also surprisingly good at navigating in the dark."

You laughed again, and your hand landed on his chest, but this time it was because you tripped and ended up pushing him up against the wall.

"I take that back, you're terrible at navigating in the dark," he whispered, keeping his fingers laced with yours and steadying you with his other hand at your waist. "Are you okay?"

This time your breathy laugh was very close to him. "You know, I was going to pretend I tripped on your cat, but I think you've just got me flustered. It's a good thing you're so sizeable, otherwise you might be splinting my leg right now."

Bradley felt your hand move up to the scars on his neck, and your fingers danced to his ear and up into his hair. He guided you a little closer so your entire body was skimming against his, and he could hear your breath hitch.

"Yeah, it's a good thing," he agreed. His eyes fluttered closed in the dark, and he instinctively found your lips with his. One chaste kiss led to another and another, your lips brushing his. You parted your lips just enough to tease his bottom lip as your fingers gently pulled through his messy hair, and Bradley felt you melt into him. His heart was beating faster now, and he wanted to push you up against the wall.

Meow!

You gently released his lips, rubbing your nose against his as you took a small step away from him. Bradley quickly laced his fingers with yours again and cleared his throat.

"That didn't sound like Sunshine," Bradley said, trying to keep you as close as possible. He sighed in relief as your palm found its way to his chest again.

"It wasn't," you whispered. "There's a cat in a kennel in the back room. Let's go check on her."

So Bradley followed your lead to the end of the hallway, his heart still beating a little fast.

"This is Ginger," you told him, guiding him over to a large cage. He could barely make out the cat inside with the scant light coming through the window.

"What's wrong with her?" Bradley asked, kneeling down to get a better look.

You sighed, never releasing his hand. "Her owner, if you can even call him that, didn't bring her here in time after she had a broken leg. You're really a very good pet daddy to Sunshine, even though you are clearly reluctant." You squeezed his hand.

"What's going to happen to Ginger?" he asked, reaching his fingers through the cage to pet her fur. She meowed and nudged his fingers with her head.

"Not sure yet. Her owner won't sign the paperwork for us to re break and try to set her leg correctly. He also won't agree to pay for medical care. I tried to kidnap her, but my boss wouldn't let me."

Bradley gave the cat one last scratch and stood up. "What if I steal her, and you pretend like you have no idea what happened to her?"

You giggled again and pulled him closer to you. "Oh, I like that idea. I also like the idea of you having two cats. That's adorable."

Bradley was grinning in the darkness. "I like being adorable."

You just hummed and whispered, "I think we're stuck here for the night." He could feel your breath on his neck again. "There's a loveseat in the breakroom. One of us can sleep on that."

"You take it. I can sleep on the floor."

You started to lead him in the direction of the breakroom, but it was very dark in there. He could barely see anything.

"Maybe we could share it?" you asked so softly, Bradley was afraid he might have misheard.

"Okay....we can share it," he replied, and he sat down hard as you guided him over to the small sofa. His heart was beating a little faster again as he blindly tried to move the loose pillow against the armrest, and then he was reaching for you.

You were laughing softly. "How do you want to do this?"

Bradley's heart was hammering now. He wanted to kiss you again. "However you want." With a palm against his chest, you pushed him back against the pillow on the armrest, and he stretched himself out on his back across the loveseat. It was uncomfortable, and his feet were hanging way off the far end, but as soon as you eased yourself down against him, everything felt perfect.

"Is this okay?" you asked next to his ear as you kind of wedged yourself up against the back of the loveseat with your body halfway on top of his. Your chest was pressing against his, and Bradley could feel your leg come to rest between his knees.

"Yes," he managed, his voice coming out raspier. "Is this okay?" he asked, wrapping his hand around your waist.

You answered with a soft hum and let your palm rest against his chest like you had been doing all night. Oh no. He liked you. This felt too good, and Bradley probably wouldn't make it through the night with his heart intact. But he let you snuggle up against him in the pitch black room.

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

You weren't really sure if this was a good idea, but your night had taken a turn for the better when Bradley and Sunshine arrived, so you decided to just go with it.

"Are you comfy?" you asked him, and you felt the deep rumble of his voice against your cheek and hand.

"Very. Are you warm enough?"

If anything, you were too warm, pressed up against him like this. His body temperature was hot, and so was he. Bradley had managed to get you pretty giddy by this point, after sharing just a few kisses. The thing you couldn't understand was how comfortable you felt with him already. You'd just met him, and now you were both spending the night in the clinic together, but you weren't nervous or wary of him.

"I'm beginning to think Sunshine premeditated this whole thing," he told you with a soft laugh. "Because I've been looking for a while, and I've never met anyone like you."

You bit your lip and angled your face toward his. "What does that mean, Lieutenant Bradshaw?"

You could feel his hand tighten a little bit on your waist at your use of his rank. "It means I like you. A lot. And I'm desperately trying not to be creepy, because we're kind of stuck here together since the power is out and we can't find my cat, but I'm hoping you like me too."

In an instant, you let your lips connect with his again as you eased yourself a bit further up his body. As your fingers stroked along his cheek and up into his hair, you pulled your lips away from his and said, "I do."

But as soon as the words were out of your mouth, Bradley was luring your lips back to his lips. He was so big and strong, but his kisses were soft, and his hands were undemanding against your lower back. He let you take the lead, never making you feel like you were trapped on the loveseat with him.

So you let yourself indulge in the sensation of his mustache against your skin and his legs tangled with yours. When you tugged your fingers through his hair, he groaned softly into your mouth, and you smiled against his lips.

"Are you going to let me have your number?" he asked as you pulled away a few inches to catch your breath.

You pressed your lips to his cheek and said, "Probably."

"Damn, what do I have to do to get a solid yes?" he asked, and you could tell he was smiling.

"Tell me more about yourself," you whispered.

"I can do that," Bradley replied, running the tip of his nose along your cheek. So he told you all about his job, which sounded extremely exciting. He didn't tell you much about his family, other than he was pretty much alone. And he told you about his friends, who all sounded like a riot.

"Sounds like you only have one thing missing in your life," you whispered against his neck.

"A girlfriend?" he asked, brushing his lips against your forehead.

You had to bite your lip to keep from squealing. "I was going to say a cat," you told him.

"Nah, Sunshine already took care of that, wherever he is. Tell me about you."

Bradley asked all the right questions at all the right times as you told him about yourself. He didn't think it was weird that you had a deaf, three-legged dog. He seemed to like that you volunteered at the animal shelter. And he invited you to get a drink with him at some bar called the Hard Deck tomorrow night.

You yawned and snuggled against his neck, whispering, "I think I would like that." And soon you were falling asleep in his arms.

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

Your pillow never felt this warm and comfortable. And why hadn't your alarm gone off? It was so bright in here, it must be time to get up for work.

You stretched your arms just as you heard, "Good morning," whispered in a very raspy voice.

"Oh!" you gasped, your eyes suddenly open, wide awake. You were staring at Bradley as he smiled hesitantly back at you. "You're so handsome. I was beginning to think I had imagined how you looked before the power went out."

He just laughed and seemed to take that as his cue to run his fingers along your arm. "That was a fun sleepover. Don't usually get to wake up with anything cute draped across me."

"Oh, Sunshine will remedy that, I'm sure," you said teasingly, letting your lips brush against his. Bradley was instantly smiling.

Then you heard some purring from the doorway. "Speak of the devil," Bradley whispered. "Come here, Sunshine. We were looking for you."

But he just purred louder and louder. "He's probably hungry. I need to feed Ginger anyway, so I'll feed him too."

You peeled yourself off of Bradley and got another good look at him as he lounged back against the arm of the loveseat. You giggled, because he was way too big for the piece of furniture, and the scrubs you gave him were a little small.

"What?" he asked, looking kind of smug.

"Nothing. But you need to get up before my boss comes in," you said, biting your lip and turning toward Ginger's kennel. But a loud knock on the front door had you panicking. Your boss would have just let himself in. "I'm going to check to see who it is."

"Want me to come with you?" Bradley asked, instantly at your back.

But you were looking up through the front window, and you immediately recognized Ginger's owner. "No, I'll be okay," you grumbled, straightening your scrubs as you headed toward the waiting room.

You unlocked the door and let him inside, fully aware that nobody seemed to care when your office hours actually started. "We actually don't open for another hour, but if you're here to sign the paperwork for us to try to fix Ginger's leg, I can get that ready for you."

But he just scoffed. "I'm not signing it. There's no way I'm spending that kind of money for a cat. I can't believe you even think that's reasonable."

You had to bite your tongue. It was only a few hundred dollars.

"I'm just here to pick her up so I don't have to keep paying for you to board her," he added impatiently.

But your brow scrunched up. "What are you going to do with her?"

He was rolling his eyes now. "Does it matter?"

You pressed your lips together in a tight line before you said, "It matters to me, yes."

"I'll just leave her somewhere. Maybe someone else will find her or maybe not, but I already got a new kitten for my kids."

Your blood was boiling now. "You're not serious," you said, raising your voice.

"Just give me the cat, and don't charge me a kennel fee for today."

Bradley strolled out into the waiting room and asked, "Is there a problem?"

He eyed Bradley in his scrubs and said, "Your clinic has the most ridiculous prices. I just want to pick up the cat and go."

"You can't have her!" you told him.

He shook his head and turned to Bradley. "Are you going to let your employee talk to me like that? Go get the cat!"

"She can talk to you however she wants," Bradley mumbled. He must have seen the anger in your eyes, because he started to block the hallway leading back to the kennels.

You didn't care what this man thought he was going to do, he wasn't leaving here with an animal. "I'm not going to send Ginger with you if your plan is to abandon her."

"Well I'm not going to pay for any more services!"

He was only motivated by money, which might just make this easier. "Then sign her away to the clinic and leave," you told him, already rummaging in your file cabinet for the form you needed. Unfortunately this kind of thing happened from time to time.

You glanced at Bradley where he stood with his thick arms crossed over his chest, thankful he was here. You were shaking with anger as you handed the form and a pen to Ginger's owner. And as you watched him sign his name, Ginger became property of the clinic.

"And now you can get the hell out of here!" you told him, and he looked completely outraged. "You're abusive, and we will not allow you back for any of our services in the future." He was turning toward the door as you raised your voice. "And I hope your new kitten runs away and finds an owner who doesn't suck!"

He slammed the door behind him, and Bradley rushed over to you. "Are you okay? That was wild."

But all of the anger was gone now, and you just smiled up at him. "Wanna meet my new cat in the daylight?" you asked.

"Yeah, I do," he said, and you kissed his rough cheek.

You and Bradley sat on the floor in front of the open kennel door, holding hands. Inside the large cage, Sunshine was sitting next to Ginger as she ate her breakfast.

"She's pretty. I couldn't tell what she looked like last night," Bradley murmured, reaching in and stroking her behind the ears.

"I'll get her leg reset today, and I'll pay for her medical bills. Hopefully I can take her home with me in a few days."

Bradley cleared his throat. "I guess I should leave before your boss gets here?"

"Yeah." But you really didn't want him to.

He nodded toward Sunshine and Ginger. "Looks like he made a new friend. If I can't get your number for me to use, you have to give it to me so we can set up a cat playdate. For Sunshine?"

You couldn't help laughing at his antics and the cute pout on his face.

"You can have my number for you. And Sunshine can have my number to reach Ginger. And if the offer still stands, I'd love to meet you at that bar later."

Bradley's face lit up as he got his phone out and handed it to you. "Sounds great. I'll text you the address." You entered your name and number and handed it back to him.

"I'll meet you there," you promised.

"I can't wait," he replied, but you were already kissing him.

"You need to go," you whispered a second later.

He pressed his lips to yours one more time before he reached in to get Sunshine. "I know, you don't want to leave Ginger. But I secured you a playdate," he told the cat. "Oh, how much do I owe you for fixing his leg?"

"Nothing," you said as you stood with your new cat in your arms, and Bradley followed you out to your desk.

"That hardly seems fair," he replied, grabbing his khaki uniform from your chair.

You just shrugged, setting Ginger down gently on your desk. "I did it off the clock anyway. Don't worry about it. You can buy me a drink later."

Bradley grinned at you. "I'll buy all of your drinks. And when we go out to dinner tomorrow night, I'll pay for that, too. Same as the movie I'm taking you to next weekend. Oh, and all of the concerts and museums we're going to visit together? I'm paying."

You giggled. "That actually sounds kind of perfect."

"You only like me because I'm a pet owner," he whispered, kissing you softly.

You kissed him harder and ran your fingers through his hair one last time. "It certainly didn't hurt your cause. I'll meet you at the bar."

He nipped your lips one last time, and then held Sunshine up closer to his face as he headed for the door. "I owe you one. You want tuna for dinner? I'll feed you tuna every day."

You watched him walk outside and pull out of the parking lot, and then you plugged your phone in to check your messages.

You already had one from Bradley with the address for the Hard Deck. Then another one came through that said Thanks for one of the best nights of my life.

"I hope you liked Sunshine," you told Ginger. "Because I really like his dad."

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

Thanks for reading this one! Hope you liked it @morallydiseased! And thanks for your help @thedroneranger!

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bruhstories · 1 year

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summary: you and eren have been friends since forever. you also loved eren since forever. but eren is always bored, until he finally finds something worth changing for pairing: eren jaeger x fem!reader, mentioned eren x mikasa w/c: 4.6k warnings & content: toxic!eren (for the most part. man's got a god complex, okay?), female bodied reader, weed smoking, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected p in v sex, angst, fluff

a/n: not me coming back from the dead with this rubbish but hey, beats not writing at all i suppose

"I'm bored."

Eren laid on his back, one hand under his head, the other holding the meticulously rolled spliff.

"Do you wanna play a video game?" You suggested, watching him blow rings of smoke. "I can beat you at Mortal Kombat again."

He snorted at your audacity before passing you the joint.

"I mean I'm bored of my life. Nothing exciting ever happens." Eren sighed. He was tired of the same routine of waking up, checking Tinder, going to work, hooking up with some random girl, going to bed — rinse and repeat.

You liked routine. You flourished when you had a routine. Not that you were bothered by the occasional spontaneity, but routine could very well be your middle name.

"Change something, then. Change your job. Or even better, get a girlfriend." Your tone wasn't pleasant.

"Who's gonna split the rent with you, then?" He sat up, taking the spliff from your fingers.

"Hey, I wasn't done-"

"You snooze, you lose, babe." Eren took one long drag before exhaling the smoke into your face.

Babe.

You hated when he used pet names on you. It gave you a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, he liked you back. But that was impossible. Eren didn't do relationships, he fucked. You knew that damn well when you could hear him through the walls of your flat almost every night. You felt bad for every single girl who thought they could change him. But you knew him better. You knew he would never change.

"I told you to not call me that." You leaned forward to take your spliff back, but Eren put his hand up. "Really, are you going to be a child now?" You pressed a hand on his knee to reach his fingers.

"You didn't earn it." He shrugged, pushing you back.

"I rolled it, fuckface! Give it back!" You struggled, but Eren was bigger and stronger.

"Fine." He smacked your hands out of his way and gripped your chin, fingers digging into your skin. "Open up."

Even if you tried to keep your mouth closed, the force of his fingers parted your lips open. You could feel your cheeks heating up when Eren took a drag and blew the thick smoke into your mouth, his lips merely inches away from yours.

You hated him. No, you hated how he made you feel, how insignificant you were compared to him.

Despite always barking back at him, always getting into arguments, always beating him at Mortal Kombat, the reality was that you always gave in. If Eren told you to strip, you would. If Eren told you to suck his cock, you would. If Eren told you to jump off a cliff, you would. Not because he forced or manipulated you, but because you wanted to.

You were willing to give him everything, and he would take it all.

"Good girl." Eren sneered at your attempt to hide your face. It amused him.

"Fuck off, yeah?"

"You know what would make my life less boring?" He clicked his tongue.

"Enlighten me." You rolled your eyes.

"Fucking you."

Your lips parted but no sounds came out of your mouth. Those were words you wanted to hear since you were a teenager, since you first realised you liked him. Since you were 15. Ten years ago.

And the urge to surrender was growing stronger than your will to be dignified and respectable. Much stronger.

"Eren, stop fucking about." You decided not to play his game. "Just because you're bored doesn't mean you have the right to, what, fuck me? Grow up, you're 25."

There, you told him off. Surely he would be mature enough to understand and respect your wishes. Only, you didn't give him a definitive no. And if Eren couldn't get what he wanted, he would take it.

His fingers ghosted over your shoulder, tugging at the strap of your tank top. You could've smacked his hand away, could've left the room. But you didn't, because you wanted him to convince you. You wanted to make him work for you, to earn you.

Eren didn't say anything, just toyed with the strap, lowering it down your arm. Bad time to not wear a bra, because from the way you were sat, he could perfectly watch the way your nipples protrude through the thin fabric of your top.

You couldn't lie to yourself — you never wore a bra around Eren, unless you had just come from work. Desperation was written all over your face, every day, every minute of your miserable life, and living with him did not make things any better, it only made them worse. The only two reasons you agreed to be roommates were simple — you were poor and you were in love. You needed someone to split bills and rent with, and you hoped that living with Eren would make him have an epiphany about how much he loved you and wanted to be with you.

Boy, were you wrong.

Yet when he tugged at your strap harder, hooked his index finger and pulled it all down, you did not protest. You did, however, in one final attempt to maintain your dignity, cross your hands over your chest to cover your bare breasts.

He smiled — no, he sneered at how pathetic you were, because if there was one entertaining thing in Eren's boring life, it was how much you tried to fight your feelings for him.

As if he didn't know. As if you thought he didn't know.

"Have you always been this cute?" His words disrupted your embarrassment, but you knew how foul he was, telling you what you wanted to hear.

"Eren…" You trailed off, still covering your chest, still hiding your face. "Don't. Don't play with me. Don't say things you know will… hurt me."

"Hurt you?" He cocked a brow at you, almost convincing you that he was confused. "But, I'm giving you what you want, and you'll be giving me what I want."

The sudden realisation that Eren knew all this time how in love you were with him had you burst into tears. Not hysterical crying, heavy breathing or loud sobs, no. Just tear after tear after tear, rolling down your cheeks, down your lips, down your chin, as you cried with no noise.

He felt bad. He really did.

It's not that he didn't care about you, God, no. Eren loved you — in his own way. He wasn't the type of man to hold your hand, kiss your forehead, cuddle you at night. But he showed his love in other ways — he took days off when you were sick, drove you anywhere and everywhere you wanted, ordered food almost every day. You always assumed he did that because you were friends, because you went way back.

"I didn't mean to make you cry." His thumb grazed over your bottom lip. "Cross my heart and hope to die." Eren told you when he saw the condescending look on your face.

"For how long have you known?" You turned your head away and pulled your top back up.

He clicked his tongue. Eren wasn't in the mood to talk, he was in the mood to fuck. But you were not about to give yourself to him just yet.

"Long enough." He stubbed whatever was left of the spliff and pulled his legs under him in a lotus position.

"Jesus Christ. And you enjoyed every bit of it, didn't you?" Venom dripped down your tongue. You watched him with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows. "You thrived on watching me be a fool. For fuck's sake, you moved in with me!"

"It's not like that." His voice was calm, but you could see him getting angry.

He'd changed. When he was a teenager he would show how angry he was. Everyone had to know Eren was fuming. But now? Now he was just calm, quietly imagining how he'd rip someone's heart out and eat it.

"It's not like that." You repeated, tone mocking him. "Pray tell, then, Eren, how it is. Because frankly I'm getting tired."

He rolled his eyes at you, and that only irked you more. You wanted to scream at him, to slap him, to make him understand just how much you wanted him.

"We both know why I didn't say anything, Y/N."

Oh.

Of course.

How could you be so stupid to think he ever reciprocated your feelings?

Silly you.

"Wow, I- no. This has to end." You punched the nearest wall, knuckles cracking at the impact. "Fuck!"

"Are you hurt-"

"Fuck you. I really thought I could get over it, you know? But it's been ten years! Ten years of my life wasted because I love you!" Your eyes widened and you brought a hand over your mouth.

Never have you imagined this was how you'd confess your feelings.

You always thought it would be when Eren would be vulnerable, or perhaps when he would've realised he liked you. But not like this. Never like this.

"Oh, say it again." He closed his eyes and bit his lower lip.

You couldn't tell if he was being serious or not, so when he opened his eyes, all he could see was you, angry, upset, confused.

Eren got up and closed the distance between the two of you. His lips touched your knuckles, his hand holding yours.

"Say it again." He urged you, his emerald eyes burning holes into your own pupils.

"I… love you." Your voice was dying with each syllable, and you could feel your eyes getting wet with tears once more.

"Again."

"Eren…"

"Please." He pulled you by the waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck, taking in your scent.

There were plenty of mixed signals coming from him, and he was a walking red flag. But you couldn't hold back, not anymore.

"I love you."

Eren wasn't bored of his life. Those three words made him realise that. He didn't need something exciting to happen, no. He needed someone who would dedicate their heart to him. He needed you.

"I don't think I could get tired of hearing this." His breath tickled your skin.

"Eren, please, I can't do this. Not when you don't even like me back." You tried to push him away, but he tightened his grip around your waist.

"Oh, I like you. Just not how you expect me to." Eren pulled back enough to look into your eyes. "I'm not gonna take you on dates. I'm not gonna buy you flowers. I'm not gonna hold the door open for you." He admitted.

"That's… alright." It wasn't.

But if it meant you got to have a small piece of him, you were willing to ruin the rest of your life for him.

His hand slid under your top, but you were too far gone to protest.

Once you confessed your feelings, you were his.

Your feet followed Eren as he dragged you to the bed. He sat you down, or better yet, he pushed you onto the mattress, and as you fell, so did your dignity and principles. Your embarrassment quickly turned into eagerness, because in that moment, you believed you'd never have another opportunity like this, even if it meant ruining your friendship, and potentially, the rest of your life.

Eren hovered over your body, and you tugged the waistband of his gray sweatpants, making him lean closer.

"Can I kiss you?" Your voice was timid and quiet.

"You can do more than that with that pretty mouth of yours." His confidence made your cheeks burn. He always made your body temperature rise, but this felt like a genuine fever dream. A good one.

"Eren!" You squealed at his words, but before you knew it, his lips pressed onto yours, hot and needy. That was the uncontested truth — Eren needed you. Not some random girl who was eager to fuck him because of his undoubtedly good looks, but someone who would worship him like a king, a god. And you did that, in your own special way.

There was a time when Mikasa was like that, obsessed with Eren and eager to please him. But the difference was that, to him, Mikasa was mindless. Like a puppet on a string. She wouldn't contest his wishes, and gave up so easily. And Eren didn't want that. He wanted someone to be by his side because they saw eye to eye. Because you believed in his ideas and in him. Mikasa just wanted him. She didn't give two shits on what Eren thought, she would follow him anyway.

But you were like him. There was passion in your eyes and a fire in your heart, and Eren knew that. You preferred to not show that, giving your friends only optimism and kindness. He knew better. He knew the darkness in your soul. He knew you were the only one who could understand him. It only took him ten years to bring that to the surface.

His mouth was on your neck, kissing, sucking and biting your skin, and your fingers were tangled in his disheveled hair, tugging at it with each wave of electricity running through your veins. Every time he touched you, it felt like you stuck your fingers in a socket.

"Need to feel you." Eren mumbled, one hand traveling down your chest, then your abdomen, sliding under your leggings and panties. "Fuck, you're so wet." He was dumbfounded at the effect he had on your body when his fingers pushed into your sloppy cunt.

For a brief moment, you regretted not being a virgin. You had hoped Eren would be your first, but back when you lost your virginity, you thought he would never want you, so you had a short relationship with some guy who fucked you pretty badly. Since then, you barely had any sex.

His thumb grazed over your swollen clit, and you instinctively arched your back, hitting your forehead against his. Clearly, you lacked experience.

"Ren, I'm sorry-"

"It's alright." He took your hand and guided it to his cock. "You can make up for it."

You chewed on your lower lip and looked away, only for him to squeeze your wrist.

"Look at me."

You nodded, palming his bulge through the fabric of his sweatpants. He relaxed, letting go of your wrist and untying the string of his waistband.

Adrenaline and fear fogged your brain. It all still felt so unreal, and part of you was scared you couldn't take him all. The other part wanted him to ruin you.

Eren pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it on the floor, leaving your cunt needy and alone.

"Go on." He urged you after seeing the lust and fear in your eyes. "I know you want it."

You sighed at the lack of gentleness, but you couldn't deny the obvious truth.

Your manicured fingernails snatched the waistband and pulled it down, not caring about foreplay anymore. You've had enough foreplay in the past ten years.

The sight of his cock made your mouth water, like some kind of rabid dog, but you didn't give a shit anymore. You didn't care if he saw you as a piece of meat, a toy or a puppet.

"I-" Words could not come out of your mouth. He was just stunning, with his toned body and his hair falling down his beautiful face. Shit, maybe he was a god.

"Well?" Eren snapped, impatient and irritated at the lack of reaction. You did react, just not like he expected you to.

Curious and confused, you reluctantly shifted your position, bringing your face closer to him. After pondering your next move, you parted your lips open and stuck your tongue out, dragging it up his shaft.

"You can do better." He fisted your hair and pulled your head back. "You will do better, yeah?"

"Yes-" You stopped talking when he pushed his cock into your mouth, effectively forcing you to take as much of his length as possible.

The tears pooling at the corners of your eyes weren't from pain, nor the lack of air, but from pure ecstasy and joy. Finally, you were granted what you were longing for so long.

You worked hard for Eren, hollowing your cheeks and sucking his cock. You didn't think your mouth could produce so much spit, but it did, and it dribbled down your chin, down his shaft, mixed with his delicious precum. Your lips were just so swollen you thought they went numb.

When Eren got tired of watching you struggle to breathe, he pulled your head back, allowing you to inhale as much air as possible. His fingers wrapped around your neck as he bent down to kiss you.

"Shit." He pulled back. "I taste good."

He was so full of himself, so vain and narcissistic that it made you want to hate him. But you couldn't lie to yourself — you loved every bit of him.

"Eren, please." You reminded him that you also needed attention by squeezing his hand.

He looked down on you, as if he were insulted by your audacity to speak.

"What? You want something?" He palmed his cock, slowly stroking it up and down.

You nodded.

"Show me, then."

Another sigh escaped past your lips. You should've known he'd make you work. He wouldn't just give you what you wanted so easily.

Pulling your leggings down and letting them fall off the bed, you gently laid back on the mattress. Eren watched your every move, judging every single gesture, and so far, he seemed pleased. He seemed especially pleased when your hands reached your panties, tugging them and eventually pulling them down. You laid there, half naked and awkward.

"I didn't tell you to stop, did I?" His voice was condescending. "Earn it, you filthy whore." Now he was impatient.

Never had he called you a whore before. You didn't mind it, you just didn't expect it. And you didn't know what to do, either. After a few seconds of silence and deep thinking, you bit your lower lip and spread your legs. Unmoved by your attempt, Eren just kept on pumping his cock, seemingly enjoying himself more.

Fine, you'd try harder.

Your hand slowly traveled up your thigh until it reached your cunt, and your fingers gently rubbed circles against your clit. His eyes didn't leave your body. That was what he wanted, but it was still not enough.

"Ren- oh, please-" Your breath hitched when arched your back. "Need you, please!"

"Need me to what? Say it, otherwise you won't be getting shit from me."

Did he have to humiliate you like that? Was it not enough that you just professed your love to him? Did he have to take everything from you?

The answer was yes, and you knew it all too well.

"Don't wanna say it…" You tried to fight your instincts.

"Is that so? Fuck yourself, then." He was dead serious.

"No, wait!" You sat up, fingernails digging into his arms. "Please!"

Eren tucked your hair behind your ear and cupped your cheek with one hand. Despite how tender his gesture was, you knew his words would be cruel.

"Give yourself to me. All of you."

Something snapped inside your brain. He didn't have to tease you for you to want him. He didn't need to kiss you and make you melt. He knew exactly which buttons to push to break his toy.

"Take me, then!" You begged him. "Kiss me, fuck me, kill me if you want!"

Even Eren was shocked to see how much power he had over you. Power he would obviously abuse in the future. Sure, you could have said those things in the heat of the moment, said them to get what you wanted, but it wasn't just sheer lust — you were willing to let Eren ruin you.

You did ask nicely, and how could he not grant your wish?

His dark locks tickled your face when he leaned in to kiss you in what was, perhaps, the most animalistic kiss you've ever had. Oh, and you were putty in his hands, kissing him back, fisting his hair to pull him impossibly closer to you.

With your legs spread open for him, Eren pushed his cock into your needy cunt, and although he tried not to hurt you, he couldn't hide his eagerness to just fuck you already. Inch by inch, you rolled your eyes in both pleasure and pain — it's been a while since you got laid. Your fingernails raked up and down his back, leaving red marks all over his perfect skin, and you could tell he enjoyed it by his guttural growls and grunts.

"God, you're so tight." Eren bottomed out, allowing you to adjust to his size.

Oh, and you adjusted, alright. He filled you up, both physically and emotionally, and no longer was there a void in your heart. He was your missing piece, but you weren't so sure if you were his.

Wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his back, you looked him in the eyes without a shred of shame.

"Please, Eren, please fuck me! I've waited so long-" You choked on your own words when his hips began to roll painstakingly slowly. But you loved every bit of it, so much so that you sunk your teeth into his shoulder to muffle your moans.

Eren wouldn't have that, of course. He had to hear you. He heard you every night, when you thought you were quietly fucking yourself, it was only natural he wanted to hear you when he was the one balls deep inside of you.

The sound of his name on your lips was divine, like a devout subject praying to her god. Because that was Eren to you — a god.

Your lips were swollen from all his devouring kisses, and you were sure he left a few bruises on your body after how hard he pinched and squeezed the plush of your hips, but you didn't care. You belonged to him, after all.

"Harder, fuck me harder!" You begged him. It's not that you wanted to finish, God no. You wanted this moment to last forever. But you needed to feel him more.

Eren pulled out, despite your request, only to flip you over and thrust back into your cunt. You've never tried that position before with other men. You believed that it was filthy and humiliating to get fucked from behind. And you were right, you felt like nothing but a piece of meat. But it also felt good.

"Hard enough, you little slut?" He whispered into your ear, the words sending chills down your spine. Who knew you would enjoy being called awful names?

"Yes! Fuck, yes!" You arched your back, the sound of the bedframe hitting the wall echoing in your room. Your poor neighbours.

"Has anyone else fucked you like this before?" Eren fisted your hair, pulling your head back.

"N-no!" You cried out, feeling your thighs quiver.

"Good." He let go of your hair, only to bring an arm around your neck, practically holding you in a headlock. "And no one's ever gonna fuck you like this, but me, yeah?"

"Y-you, only you!"

"That's right." He let go of you, instead focusing his hands on your hips. "You're mine."

It was comforting to hear those words, because you knew that was how Eren expressed his feelings — violently.

There was no romance with Eren, only chaos and violence, and you loved him just like that.

Then you felt it — his frantic thrusts, the stuttering pace, his fingers almost ripping the skin off your hips — he was close, and so were you.

"Eren! I'm gonna finish-"

"I know, love."

That was enough to send you over the edge, your walls tightening around his cock, and pleasure engulfing your entire body. Your limbs were numb by the time you reached your climax, and you were too tired to tell him not to finish inside of you. But Eren wasn't an idiot. Despite his violent urges, he didn't want to hurt you. Not emotionally, at least. He pulled out on time, you knew that when you felt something hot and thick on your lower back.

You could hear him walk out of the room and then back in, and in your daze, you tried to prop yourself on your elbows and look up.

"Don't move." Eren told you, and his voice had drastically changed — soft and soothing. "You don't want cum leaking on your bedsheets."

"Need to wash 'em anyway." You groaned, coming down from your high.

"Tomorrow." He said, gently wiping your back with tissues. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." You nodded. "Still bored?" You teased him, but you knew things would go back to normal tomorrow. Eren would go back to Tinder and you would go back to your routine.

"A little." Eren shrugged, and although you should have expected this answer, it still shattered your heart into a million pieces. "You know what would help?"

"What?"

"If you would let me take you out on a date."

You were confused, and understandably so.

"Me?"

"No, the Pope. Go on a nice little date in the Vatican. Yes, you." He chuckled at his own joke.

But you were still confused.

"I thought you didn't do dates." You watched him toss the tissues in the bin and sit back down on your bed.

"Well, it's time for a change." He didn't look at you, instead focusing on one dot on the wall.

"Okay, but why? I mean, why me?"

"Don't, Y/N. Don't make me say it." Eren hoped that if he still stared at that dot, you would leave him alone.

"You made me say a lot of shit tonight, Jaeger. Why me?" You could feel your cheeks heat up again with anger.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, you know why!" He crossed his arms like a child.

"No, I don't."

"Jesus, because I l-" Eren cleared his throat. "I luh-" he choked.

"Oh my God, just say it already!"

"I love you, you crazy fucking bitch!" He threw his hands up in exasperation. "There, I said it, happy?"

You were stunned, absolutely dumbfounded. Love? Eren loved you? How? Since when? There were tons of questions you wanted to ask him, but not a single word came out of your mouth.

The silence was deafening, and you could hear your heart beating in your eardrums. So instead of saying anything, you scooted closer to him, cupping his face and turning his face towards you. Finally, he looked into your eyes, and you beamed at him. There was so much warmth in your smile that it moved him, and for the first time in a very long time, Eren smiled, too.

He pulled you into a soft embrace, his arm around your shoulders, his chin resting on your head.

"Can I sleep with you?" Eren asked.

"Didn't you already do that?" You mocked him with a grin on your lips.

"Alright, fuck you too, then.” He chuckled, planting a kiss on your forehead.

Perhaps you had been wrong all along. Perhaps all of Eren’s arrogance and chaos was just a mask, something to hide how he truly felt. You knew he would never show his vulnerable side, but the fact that tonight he at least tried to do that meant that he could change. And tonight, for the first time, Eren not only felt loved, but he felt the need to show love.

It would take time and patience, but he could change. For you.

#eren jeager #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren smut #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager #eren jaeger #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan smut

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badomensbaby · 2 months

Text

above the law. lrh

pairing: luke hemmings x fem! reader

summary: luke's so sick of his assistant, you, talking all the damn time. he finally does something about it.

warnings: 18+ only. minors DNI. smut, thigh-riding, unprotected sex, verbal degradation, rough bj, slightly dubious consent, office sex, cum-swallowing, cursing.

word count: 4,173

a/n: i wrote this originally back in early 2023 as an au using one of my wattpad original characters. through some editing, i've decided to change the pov and post it here! i hope you enjoy x

feedback and constructive criticism welcome. requests are open!

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"Hemmings, get your head out of your ass for once and finish this goddamn deal."

The curly headed blonde's eyes snap away from the project he's currently in the middle of, various folders scattered amongst his desk, drowning him in useless paperwork all for a stupid fucking merger.

"The fuck do you think I'm doing?" Luke grumbles under his breath, snapping the Bolton file shut and tossing his overly expensive fountain pen on top of the mess he's created. Ashton Irwin, one of three named partners, stands with his arms crossed in the doorway of Luke's corner office, an unamused expression on his face.

"I think you're trying to do all this shit on your own instead of utilizing your associate, that's what I think," the honey blonde scoffs, thick brow raising, "Where's Y/N anyway? You send her across town for your stupid coffee again?"

"No," Luke's quick to defend, though it is the easiest way to get you out of his eyesight for a little while and focus, "I've got her on the Mansfield settlement."

"The Mansfield- that's Mike's case, idiot," Ashton shakes his head, "What's the deal, Luke? You really hate Y/N that much?"

A sigh of exhaustion leaves Luke's lips, head cocking back as he stares at the ceiling. "She's just chatty," he says vaguely, "Can't get a single fuckin' thing done 'cause she won't shut up."

"She's your associate, Luke, stop pawning her off on Mike or he'll swipe her out from under you."

"Good," he forces out a low chuckle, meeting the man's eyes, "He can have her."

"Don't say things you don't mean, you know she's one of the best associates we've got." Luke's eyes roll at his boss' words, sitting up straighter in his desk chair.

"Whatever," he mumbles softly, not willing to admit your brain is undeniably better than half the fucking people he's met. "Can I get back to work now?"

A defeated sigh escapes Ash's lips, "If I don't see Y/N in here working with you I'll make sure to send Calum your way."

"Calum?" the curly haired boy's nose wrinkles, shaking his head, "That's like giving me a fucking puppy, Ash, literally useless."

"Your call." he responds, a little smirk on his lips before pulling Luke's office door shut behind him. A groan leaves Luke's throat at this, the urge to rip every last blonde ringlet from his head at the idea of spending the remaining afternoon going over these stupid files with you.

Regardless of the fact that you’re distracting, which he'll never admit aloud, he shoots you a vague text requiring your presence in his office, no more than twenty minutes from now.

And of course, your dainty little wrist began knocking on the dark wooden door of his office precisely twenty-three minutes after he'd sent the text, only fueling his annoyance. A curt "come in" leaves his lips but his eyes remain on the file, instead of the sinful black dress on your curvy frame.

Tasteful and tightly fit, your fingers instinctively tug at the material resting on your mid thigh, a worrisome look on your features. For as long as you can recall, Luke's always teased you about your wardrobe, especially the bright colors and silken skirts.

"You're late," his tone is flat, hand scribbling away at the paperwork he's nearly memorized already, "I swear to god if you say some bullshit about the elevator again-"

Luke's words die in his throat as he lifts his head, eyes landing on the tight fabric on your frame, hugging every fucking dip and curve of your body. You meet eyes, yours widening, worried you’re going to be lectured again. Was your dress too plain, too boring?

The sweetheart neckline alone almost makes Luke lick his lips, stifling the urge to say something far, far more inappropriate to his associate. "Doesn't matter," the blonde rushes out, "We're gonna be here all night. Preorder from Machi's while you're at it."

"Okay," is all you say, walking closer to his desk, the click of your heels echoing Luke's ears as you bend over, just slightly, grabbing his desk phone and beginning to dial.

After nearly four hours and neither had made a miraculous discovery, a whine of agony leaves your throat, sat across the moderately sized office, snapping yet another useless file folder shut. "Luke,"

"What?" he rasps, tearing his eyes away from the file, meeting your eyes, his own filled with annoyance. "Don't tell me you've got nothing, Y/N."

"There's honestly no reason why Bolton should be merging with Daniels," you sigh out, running a hand through your hair, "Seriously, it's like Pampers merging with Microsoft, they have no interest in one another."

"Christ," Luke mutters under his breath, jaw tensing as you continue to ramble useless information, "Do you ever shut up?"

Mid-sentence, your lips snap shut, a warmth spreading across your cheeks. "Sorry," you respond softly, and Luke almost feels bad for being so curt, but god you never close your fucking mouth. "Did you find anything?"

A huff of air leaves Luke's nose, "Maybe," he says, twirling his fountain pen between his fingers, leg bouncing aimlessly as he scans over the documents for the umpteenth time. "But you keep fucking talking and it's throwing me off."

"Sorry."

"Damnit, Y/N," his curls bounce slightly as he shakes his head, rifling a hand through them, glancing over at your position on the small sofa, dress slightly ridden up your smooth thighs. "Come here, let me show you something."

Hesitantly, you toss the file on your lap onto the cushion, standing and making your way over to Luke's desk, oblivious to the fitted material of your dress riding a bit higher than intended. Luke swallows thickly, attempting to keep focus on the file in his hand. As you lean over slightly to see what Luke's underlined, his eyelids fall shut, the smell of your perfume annihilating his senses.

"But that means-" you cut yourself off, lower lip tucked between your teeth, palms flat on the corner of Luke's desk, "This isn't about combining their companies, is it?"

"No," Luke finally says after a moment, slowly blinking his eyes open, "But we need to convince the judge it is."

"That's impossible, Luke, it's clear they're only doing this for-"

"I know, just figure it out, Y/N."

"That'll take all night," you whine softly, "I'm not sleeping in the office two nights in a row." Luke's teeth grit together at your response, frustrated and fed up with your goddamn attitude.

"If you can't do it I'll find someone who can," he cranes his neck to meet your eyes, narrowed and darkened, "You wanna whine about a few more hours be my guest, but you're not doing it here."

"But-"

"Jesus fucking-" he abandons his pen with a thud, rubbing the palms of his hands against his tired eyes, "I seriously have never met someone so goddamn annoying. All you fucking do is whine and complain and talk my fucking ear off," Luke rambles lowly, "You wanted to be an associate, so be a goddamn associate and shut your fucking mouth before I shut it for you."

You stand upright, embarrassment washing over your features, attempting to remain composed as tears threaten your eyes. It's not a secret that Luke's always harbored some sort of annoyance toward you, but he's never spoken to you in such a vile manner before. You swallow the thick lump in your throat, fists balled at your sides. How dare he say those things to you?

"You're an asshole," you say, voice wavering slightly, "You're always a dick to everyone. Nobody's ever good enough for you. I wanted to be an associate to learn and do what I love, not be talked to like a child."

"The fuck did you say to me?" Luke counters with a raised brow, ringed fingers slowly rolling up the sleeves of his fitted black dress shirt. "I think you forget who you work for. Not Ashton, not Michael, definitely not Jessica. You work for me, Y/N, and if you want to keep your fucking job I think you owe me a goddamn apology."

Luke's eyes flicker between yours and the hemline of your little black dress, the skin of your thighs soft and tempting as he widens the distance between his legs, splayed open. "Come here," he says, a bit quieter this time, though he's fucking seething internally, he can't deny how fucking hot it is talking down to the you. Hesitantly, you step closer, stomach swirling with uneasiness.

"You don't wanna go through those files? Fine," Luke forces out a low chuckle, "But I've got work to do and I'm not gonna let you get in the way of that. So what you're gonna do is sit right here," he taps on his clothed thigh, "Shut your fucking mouth and make yourself cum on my thigh."

"What-"

"You heard me."

"Luke, I-"

"It wasn't a question, Y/N. And so help me god if you complain or make a fucking sound you're more than welcome to leave."

For the first time, you’re speechless. Standing so close to the man you swear hates you with every fiber of his being, asking you to make yourself cum on his thigh, you can't help the clench of your own thighs at the thought. Sure, you’ve had those kinds of thoughts about the tall blonde, but never did you imagine his request.

"So? What'll it be?" Luke asks impatiently, a thick brow raised as he grabs his pen, clicking it profusely, leaning back in his chair.

Wordlessly, and swallowing your pride, you step closer, slowly lifting your leg over the blonde's thigh, his foot firmly planted on the small rug beneath him. His eyes almost widen, as if he didn't expect you to comply, and he stifles a grunt when your warm center meets the fabric of his slacks. He can feel how fucking wet you are through the thin material of your underwear, your dress sliding a bit further up your thighs, almost exposing yourself to him.

"Alright then," Luke clears his throat, leaning forward slightly to grab the Bolton file, relaxing in his desk chair. "Get to it."

With her heart rattling in her chest, you grasp the armrest of Luke's chair to ground yourself, filled to the brim with shame. Are you really going to do this? You can still back out, you don't need to show Luke how pathetic you are, fucking leaking on his slacks just from his crude words. You don't even register the rock of your hips against his thigh until a soft moan slips from your lips, catching Luke's attention, his eyes briefly flickering to you.

And fuck is it hot. Your eyes slowly flutter shut as your hips roll in slow motions, the friction from the fabric forgotten, sensitive clit throbbing from your movements. Luke's jaw tenses, tearing his eyes away from the tempting sight, his cock twitching in his slacks.

Shame and embarrassment are out the window as you near your first orgasm, the explicit images of things you’ve only dreamt of unfolding behind your eyelids. You can only fucking imagine how Luke's fingers would feel inside you, the things he'd say as he's bottoming out inside of your tight heat. And it's suddenly overwhelming as you clench pathetically, throbbing against his thigh and your own legs shaking as you finish. "Fuck-"

Luke's eyes widen, biting hard at the inside of his cheek to keep his composure, the sound of you falling apart on his thigh sending a jolt straight to his aching cock. He wants nothing more than to bend you over his desk and fuck the daylights out of you until you’re drooling and forgetting your own goddamn name.

Reality comes crashing down as your orgasm passes, ragged breaths leaving your parted lips. Did you really just make yourself cum on your boss' thigh? "Luke-"

"Do it again."

"What?" You ask breathlessly, straightening your back, "You- you want me to do it again?"

"What did I say about shutting that pretty mouth of yours, Y/N? If I tell you to do something, do it," he scoffs, acting as though the sight of you cumming didn't turn him on even more, "If you're pathetic enough to do it once I'm sure you'll have no problem doing it again."

Your sensitive clit throbs helplessly as you swallow, white-knuckling the armrest and rocking your hips yet again. The swollen nub continuously brushing Luke's slacks has you choking down whimpers and whines, fearful of Luke's reaction to you making noise. Though, the idea of what he'll do if you don't comply lingers in your hazy mind.

The intermittent bounce of Luke's leg isn't doing you any favors either, little uh uh's leaving your parted lips.

You’re fucking drenched, the thin fabric of your lace underwear doing nothing to keep your arousal from coating Luke's thigh as you roll and rock your hips a bit quicker, your second orgasm creeping up on you, your head tossing back when a low, drawn-out whine leaves your lips, cumming for the second time like a pathetic whore.

And Luke fucking loves every goddamn second of it.

Attempting to calm yourself down from your release, thighs still trembling, Luke tosses the file onto his desk. He hadn't read a damn word of it anyway, not when you’re grinding your pretty little cunt against his thigh like a slut.

Suddenly embarrassed, your cheeks flush a deep crimson shade as you realize what you’ve done. You’ve soaked the fabric of Luke's slacks with your release, your own goddamn boss. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"Don't say another word," he firmly cuts you off, "Get on your fucking knees."

"Why-"

"I'm honestly so fucking tired of listening to you, Y/N," Luke's tone lowers, a scoff leaving his lips, watching as you scramble to the floor. "Gonna shut you up, make good use of that stupid fucking mouth of yours."

Catching sight of the wet patch on his slacks, he nearly groans, ringed fingers fumbling with his belt buckle in record time, desperate for the release of his achingly hard cock. You seem to catch on, widened doey eyes flickering up to Luke's, your hands neatly folded in your lap. Luke pulls his slacks down just enough to allow his length to be exposed, not wanting to show an ounce of vulnerability to you. You don't deserve a sweet intimate moment, you deserve to be fucking ruined.

"Open your mouth," he grunts, hissing as he grasps the base of his cock, your lips parting slowly, the blonde stepping forward and guiding the tip past your lips. "Wanna see you choke on my cock."

He doesn't give you a moment to register his words before he's thrusting fully into your mouth, tip poking the back of your throat and a choking sound emitting from your lips. You scramble to grasp at the backs of his thighs to keep yourself steady. The sight of your sparkly lipgloss coating his cock is so fucking intoxicating and he wonders why he hadn't thought of it sooner.

Using his hands to grasp your hair quite roughly, he continues to fuck into your mouth at a degrading pace, not allowing you to adjust to the forceful movements. Choking and gagging sounds fill the otherwise quiet room, spit dribbling from your lips. "Yeah, you like choking on my cock, Y/N? So much better than hearing you fuckin' talk."

Your nails dig into the fabric of his pants, a grunt leaving Luke's lips as his hips continue thrusting his cock into your mouth. You can barely take all of him, the base nearly untouched. "All you're fuckin' good for, hm?"

And suddenly he's removing himself from your mouth, chest heaving from how fucking wrecked you already look, the small tears pooling your waterline smudging the mascara you'd put on. "As much as I wanna watch you swallow for me," he heaves out, "I wanna feel that pretty fuckin' pussy of yours."

A pathetic whimper leaves your lips, clenching around nothing as you remain on your knees before him, a string of saliva connecting your swollen lips and the reddened, aching tip of Luke's cock. "You want me inside you?" he asks.

You have no words, honestly, the burn left behind in your throat from Luke's forceful thrusts halts you from speaking. Instead, you nod. "No, I want to hear you fuckin' say it, Y/N. I'm not an asshole."

"Yes," you weakly respond, "I want you."

"Good. Take that fuckin' dress off while you're at it."

Your shaky and frail fingers grasp the hemline of your dress hesitantly, eyes flickering between his leaking cock and his firm gaze, pulling the fitted material over your head and tossing it aside. Now sat in nothing but a pair of soaked, white lace panties and your heels, Luke's eyes fall on your bare breasts. "So fuckin' pretty."

"Luke-" you whimper quietly.

"Shut up," his hands reach beneath your arms, pulling you to your feet. Luke reaches around you, large hand swiping the array of documents off of his desk, sending them to the floor with a thud. You release a soft gasp when your bare backside meets the cool wooden desk, "Can't say I've never thought about this."

Luke's hands fall to your hips, gripping the skin roughly, and guiding you down until your back is flush with the desk, legs spread pathetically, displaying your clothed core to him. "God, you're so fucking soaked it's pathetic," he laughs lowly, shaking his head, and trailing a finger along the dampened material, coated in your previous orgasms and current arousal. He sends a soft smack with the back of his hand to your swollen clit, causing a whimper to leave your lips. "You'll let me have you any way I want, huh?"

"Luke-"

"Don't talk, I already know the answer," he raises your legs so your heels are resting on the edge of the desk, fingers ghosting the inside of your thighs teasingly, "Because here you are, spread out on my fucking desk like the whore you are."

"Please-"

"God, you just can't listen, huh?" his hands retreat from your skin, fumbling with his necktie, folding it into a neat little square. "I said I don't wanna hear you, Y/N." leaning over you, the tip of his cock pressing against your clothed core, he forces the folded tie between your lips, gagging you. "There, much better."

Luke works quickly to pull the pathetic excuse for underwear down your legs, tossing them alongside your dress on the floor. His cock twitches at the sight of you, fucking glistening and leaking just for him. He trails two fingers up your wetness, slicking his cock with your arousal, and prodding the tip against you. "Look at me," he says, hovering over you, hands on either side of your head. Hesitantly, you meet his eyes, your own widening, "Wanna watch you take my fucking cock."

You look so fucking pretty all gagged up for him. Running his tongue along his lower lip, he roughly juts his hips forward, instantly bottoming out and a muffled scream leaves your lips at the stretch. The tears that brimmed your eyes previously begin to fall, feeling so full, "Fuck," he hums lowly.

He rocks his hips a few times, watching as your eyes practically roll back into your head. And god does that make him so fucking proud, staring at you as drool slowly dribbles from yourr lips. He halts, roughly tugging the tie from your mouth, fingers gathering the spit and shoving it between your lips. "Don't be messy," he tuts, before placing the tie back, "Already fuckin' droolin' like a whore and I'm barely getting started."

Luke retracts his cock, hands grasping at your hips and flipping your body, the sound of your stomach colliding with the wooden desk echoing through the room. "I don't wanna look at you," he says, palming the skin of your backside before smacking the smooth flesh. He realigns himself with your entrance, one hand splayed on your bare back to hold you in place.

Roughly thrusting inside once again, the moans and muffled choked sobs barely reach Luke's ears, too fucking entranced by the feeling of your tight little cunt taking him so well. "This," he rocks his hips forcefully, "Is fuckin' mine. Anytime I goddamn want it, you're gonna give it to me."

You scramble to grab the opposite edge of Luke's desk, white knuckling it as he forcefully pounds into you, so fucking deep and quick you can barely breathe. "Such a tight fuckin' cunt," he groans, fingernails scraping along your back, "Taking my cock like a good fuckin' slut."

Instinctively you clench around him, eliciting a deep borderline growl from Luke's throat, hand previously raking down your back finding your hair, fisting the strands between his fingers and yanking you backwards until you’re halfway to his chest. You rest your palms flat on the desk, eyes pinched shut in pleasure while he continues fucking into you at an unruly pace.

"Clench again for me," he moans out, feeling the muscles in his stomach tighten, his orgasm slowly beginning to build. You comply, your thighs trembling, clenching as hard as you can. "Fuckin' god," Luke tosses his head back, eyelids fluttering shut in pure bliss.

You choke out another moan around the tie in your mouth, unable to warn the blonde of your third orgasm that's quickly approaching as he continuously pokes the perfect spot so fucking deep inside you’re nearly a drooling mess. The hand not entangled in your hair grips one of your breasts roughly, sending you over the edge in a series of muffled cries. Tears stream down your cheeks, cunt tightening around Luke yet again, the blonde hissing as he feels your release coat his cock, the slick sound of his thrusts growing louder.

"Fuckin' milkin' my cock like a whore," he spits out, grip tightening on your hair as he pulls you closer, thrusting into you impossibly harder. You can't fucking think, you’re a dizzy mess and can hardly form a thought. You can't even feel the drool pooling from the edges of your lips. "Gonna fill up that sweet little cunt of yours and make you mine."

Luke pulls you flush to his chest, your head lolling against his shoulder. Though he isn't one for kissing, he doesn't hesitate to graze his teeth against your exposed neck, sinking them into the supple flesh as his hips begin to stutter, groaning against your neck as he releases inside. You wince at the rough bite on your neck but you’re too spent to care, leaning fully against him as he rocks through his orgasm.

You’re in a daze when he pulls out of you, nearly falling against the desk, the blonde quickly reaching for you to keep you upright. Though he's smug and feeling overly satisfied for ruining you, a swirl in his stomach tells him he needs to make sure you’re alright. He pulls the tie from your mouth, not commenting on the drool spilled from your lips. "Y'okay?"

You can't fucking speak.

Luke's brows furrow with worry, hand delicately grasping your jaw and searching your hazy eyes. Pupils blown out just like his, fresh tears lingering on your cheeks. "Oh, baby," the pet name falls from his lips effortlessly, "C'mon."

Tucking his softening cock into his pants and guiding you away from his desk and towards the couch, he plucks your heels from your feet. Though he'd never in a million years consider aftercare, he's stripping his button down from his broadened frame and slipping your arms inside, buttoning it to cover your exposed body. "Luke," you toss your head back onto the plush couch.

"Hm?" he hums softly.

"I need to- need to clean up," you rasp quietly, a hint of a blush on your cheeks, head reeling from the soreness between your thighs.

"That's what m'here for," he coos sweetly, though the smirk of his lips has you swallowing thickly. His ringed hands trail along your warm and flushed skin, parting your trembling thighs, the sight of his release slowly dribbling out of your sweet cunt nearly has his cock stiffening in his slacks again. "Mm, such a pretty wrecked little pussy."

A gasp leaves your lips as he leans forward, nose brushing your lower stomach, tongue gathering his cum from your sensitive folds. Lapping up every fucking drop, Luke straightens himself out, reaching a hand towards your swollen lips and parting them with his thumb. You’re beyond confused as he tightly grips your jaw, before spitting the contents into your own mouth. Swiping any remnants from his own lips, he narrows his eyes. "Fuckin' swallow."

Clasping your pretty lips shut, you comply, feeling a stir in your stomach when your eyes meet, and swallow.

"My good fuckin' girl."

#luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings x reader #luke hemmings x y/n #luke hemmings fanfic #luke hemmings x you #luke hemmings smut #5sos smut #5sos fanfic #5sos imagine #5sos x reader #smut

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ghouljams · 10 months

Note

Omg I LOVE your konig!cowboy story, it's entertaining just how dumb bee is around this whole farm life, but what if she wasn't really that stupid? Like imagine konigs computer completely shuts down, and he's not the most tech literate but bee sees the problem and goes full city slicker tech bro mode and fixes it in no time, showing she is in fact competent, just not about her current life

Congratulations on unlocking Bee's expertise.

This is almost exactly what I had in mind when I was trying to figure out how she could just up and move and do wfh and generally have no clue how to own a farm. I think she's 100% a tech jockey of some kind, maybe a little bit of a hacker type. She's very smart but only about her areas of expertise.

König's laptop is open on the kitchen table when you drop by, the blue screen staring at you like an angel of death. You wince a little. You hope he wasn't working on anything important. You set your fabulously not failed cookies on his kitchen counter and pull out the chair in front of the computer.

"König, you mind if I poke around on your computer a little?" You call, straining to hear any movement before he pokes his head into the kitchen. He narrows his eyes at the computer for a moment, and damn you've never seen someone think so long about having their tech salvaged. "I won't check your browser history or anything if that's what you're worried about, just wanna get it running again."

König makes a noise of surprise and embarrassment. "I am not worried about that!" He sputters, which tells you he actually was worried about that. You shrug and flex your fingers a little. "Don't poke around too much." He relents, you grin, men are all the same.

"I'll stick to drivers and operating files only," he gives you a blank look, you press a few command keys to pull up your favorite little black box, "I'll just get it back to working."

You spend a few minutes manually filling in code and resetting the garbled muck that's filling your neighbor's computer. It's not too bad but he's got a nasty worm that seems to have been installed through a lousey torrent. You wipe the last few installs as best you can, calling König over to translate every so often. It's bad enough reworking an operating system in English, you're losing your mind trying to parse German files.

Eventually he finds a chair to sit next to you and watch. You pull your feet up onto the chair, your posture atrocious as you concentrate.

"I don't even know what half of this is," You grumble, staring at what looks like a matrix of some sort, a really sparse one.

"Which one is giving you trouble," König follows where you point on the screen, eyes narrowed against the brightness as he reads through named files, "Ah, this is security."

"Your place has security? We're in the middle of nowhere," You shoot him a look, he hums half agreeing, "I'll leave it."

"Braves Mädchen," he breathes, "you're very good at this."

"I hope so, can't exactly fall back on farming." You grumble, fingers working to finish your repairs to Königs frankly ancient laptop. This thing is going to be running marathons when you're done with it. Probably best to avoid any major changes to the OS though, König doesn't seem like he'd be willing to learn new shortcuts.

This is good though, you feel like you're paying him back for helping you out so much. Especially when you hit the button for the final restart and everything springs to life with a pleasant chime. You smile at your work, typing in König's shitty password to check that everything is working alright. You check the time, updating the clock to the correct time zone.

You stop, dread making your stomach roll. Is it really that late? "We were supposed to see a movie," You frown. König shoos your hands off the keyboard and shuts his laptop, it rings like a death bell on your ever present forgetfulness. "I'm sorry, I didn't even realize, and now we've missed it," König raises a hand to stop your apology.

"I don't mind," He's so sweet, his eyes smiling at you over his bandana, "I enjoyed watching you work, it was very... informative." You offer a hesitant smile, that's certainly one way to put it.

König watches you straighten up from your position over the computer, knees dropping from where you'd pulled them up by your chest as you arch your back to stretch out the kinks. The satisfied little noise you make at the quiet pop is going to bounce around his mind for a while yet. The same way your focused stare and the silent movement of your lips as you read will stick with him.

He would have asked you for help sooner, but there was too much about you on that laptop to be safe. Still, your discretion was a credit to your professionalism. Although your flagrant dismissal of what you must have thought were his porn habits was... telling. How many men have jumped to get their computer out of your hands?

"I better go home, gotta feed the critters and all." You stand, grabbing your bag from the floor, "Thanks for letting me fix your computer."

"Of course," König stands as well, walking with you to the door, "Danke Schön, hummelchen." He tells you quietly, holding the door above your head.

"Bitte schön, König," your pronunciation is hesitant, but still leaves him wide eyed staring down at you, "I Googled a few basics." You explain, as if that could be the reason for his silence.

"I see," König tries to keep his voice from sounding too tight, thinks he even succeeds at it, "Then, Gute Nacht."

"Gute Nacht!" You reply enthusiastically, giving a wave as you turn to leave. His fingers tighten on the door, grabbing something other than your throat. If you were going to speak his mother tongue so prettily, you should have at least warned him. Maybe then he wouldn't have to close the door half hard. You are going to be the death of him.

#cowboy!König #Bee very excited to have a fun movie night with her good friend and neighbor #könig coaching himself in the mirror that this isnt a date and he will not ruin this for Bee #oc: Bee #könig x you #könig modern warfare #könig x oc #colonel könig #könig cod #cod x reader #x reader #cod mw2

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teyamsatan · 11 months

Text

𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕚𝕟 𝕄𝕖 | ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕀𝕀: 𝕀 𝔸𝕞 𝕃𝕠𝕤𝕥, 𝔹𝕦𝕥 ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕀𝕟 𝕐𝕠𝕦

Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader

synopsis: in order to fulfil your revenge plans on Neteyam, you have to give up a lot of your life, including a future with a man who loves you dearly.

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, aged-up! Neteyam/Reader, enemies-to-lovers, angst (@lanasblood trying to be better about this), smut (fingering, orgasm denial), strong language, neteyam and reader being horrible to each other lol

wc: 6.5k words

a/n: things are starting to get spicy besties 😌 i have to admit, although i am a lot more comfortable with friends-to-lovers, or more angsty tropes, i adore writing the sexual tension that comes with e2l and i hope i did it justice and you enjoy this chapter. i can't wait to hear your thoughts, bbs and thank you again for all the love and support on this series xx (thank you very much also to @cinetrix for her amazing Neteyam art ily bestie x)

this is only half proof-read, so if you see any mistakes no you don't

na'vi compendium: yawne - beloved, Tsakarem - Tsa'hik in training, tìlor - beauty, txepvi - spark

: ̗̀➛ previous chapter (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series playlist (x)

In a perfect world, I'd kill to love you the loudest But all I do is live to hurt you soundless Say you see I'm lying, babe, and let this go I can never promise you tomorrow

The departing footsteps echoed through the forest as O'ì'en left you all alone, with a broken heart and the man that broke it, and the feeling left you empty, the hurt of what transpired, of what he did, what you did, how with each passing blow to each other’s lives, this was no longer just a petty rivalry but felt like so much more, like too much more. You threatened him, you spit all sorts of petty warnings about hell and burning - and in the heat of the moment, that sounded cool, and doable. Not anymore, as you stood motionless in the clearing and realised that Neteyam still had so much power over you, that his grasp on your life and on your heart was so tight, tighter than anyone else’s, tight enough to bruise and crush it with a tug of his fisted fingers. You removed yourself from his grasp like his touch burned you, which it felt like it did, and put distance in between your bodies, so that you could see him, so that you could clear your mind, so that his presence wouldn’t have the effect on you it always did, that you were sure was just your body recoiling in hatred, that always manifested itself in goosebumps and shivers down your spine.

“You’re such a fucking asshole.” The tears stung as you willed them back into your tear ducts. It’s been 7 years since Neteyam has seen you cry, and you’ll be damned if that would ever change, and especially right now, as you watched the smirk grow with every departing step, with every erratic blink of your eyes, as you tried to stop them from falling down your face, as he knew he got to you, that he made you pay for the words you uttered to him before.

“Oh, yawne. One day you’ll learn to not punch above your weight, and I guess since no one else is willing to, it falls onto me to teach you.” He walks slow, purposeful steps as he nears you once more, and his eyes boring into you, filled with intensity and a feeling you couldn’t quite place, that didn’t quite match the arrogance staining his lips like poison, stilled you in your spot, until he was so close, you could feel his warm breath and musky scent, until your heart boomed painfully in your chest, echoing loudly in your ears, marginally drowning out his next words.

“Did you really think you could threaten me and everything I’ve worked for, my relationship and the rest of my life, without any repercussions, huh? Did you really think I would go down without a fight?”

His hand raised and reached to push some unruly strands of hair out of your face, and you couldn’t look away from the soft glimmer in his eyes, that was so at odds with the rest of his face, you wondered if he even knew it was there. You wondered if he knew what it signified, because you didn’t. And despite your best efforts otherwise, you couldn’t deny the curiosity that deluged you, to try and find out.

The hint in his molten golden orbs dissipated as quickly as it appeared, and so did any middling emotion that tried you, as you once more found yourself reaching for your knife and unsheathing it, holding it in between both your hands, aiming for a shoulder… or a neck, and with a feral growl, you pushed your entire forced into the blow, and yelped in pain as one of his hands wrapped around both your wrists and twisted until the knife dropped pitifully on the ground with a loud clink. Tears threatened you once more at how futile the effort had been, how easy for him to overpower you like you were nothing more than a child, or a doll. He pinned your hands above your head and pushed you until your back collided with the bark of a tree and you felt the wind getting knocked out of your lungs at the contact.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk… why must you always resort to violence… yawne?” Your eyes widened as the hand that wasn’t holding you ghosted over your cheeks, tracing the air right above your lips with his thumb, and you were struggling, yet again, with the feelings that were plaguing you, that made burning appear everywhere his fingers were, burning the travelled down your body until they reached your core, that throbbed and clenched, that desperately asked you for something you would never, ever give it. After exploring your face, and tracing your jaw, his fingers finally settled on your chin, pushing it gently until your face angled upwards to meet his and no further breath could inch its way down your airways at the sight of him, at the way he looked at you, at the way it made you feel.

“You told me that you won’t mind burning in Hell as long as I burn with you. Well…” he broke eye contact to look around him at the forest surrounding you both. “Do you hear that, yawne? Fire is catching. And looks like we’re going to get to burn together after all.”

“Let me go. I told you what would happen if you ever touched me again.” His smirk never faltered, but only deepened as his eyes trailed over your body, settling on your lower abdomen.

“Mmm, yawne. I’m not sure you mean that.” It was your turn to reciprocate his guise, no ounce of shame or hesitation on your face.

“Let me go and you’ll find out whether I mean it or not.” his eyes widened, if only for a split second, and you felt like you imagined his grip on you loosening, or the fleeting sight of goosebumps peppered on his chest and neck, where your warm breath touched him.

“Are you really going to miss your chance to find lover boy and apologise like the good girl you like people to think you are?”

Your eyes lost momentary focus as he spoke. His words, although as cruel as usual, made guilt peak its ugly head over the thin-veiled curtain it was hiding behind, and you knew he was right. This was irrelevant. This whole fandangle of aggression and snarky remarks you always engaged in was not what should be occupying your brain, it wasn’t what mattered. O'ì'en mattered. Fixing Neteyam’s damage… and your own - that’s the only thing that mattered right now.

“Funny how quickly you seem to have forgotten about the one you supposedly love so much when I have your hands pinned above your head, isn’t it… yawne.”

His hands trailed over your arm as if on accident as he let you go and you felt embarrassed. Embarrassed at his words, at his effect on you, at how hard you were fighting your own body and mind as they were struggling to regain composure from his touch, and his voice, and his presence.

Hate. That’s all it was. It consumed you, and you wish it didn’t, but at the end of the day, it was still just harmless, bona fide, unadulterated hate. You ignored the way your cheeks caught fire and burned beneath your skin as you ran towards the village, towards where you assumed O’i’en was headed, without sparing your biggest, your only enemy a second glance.

'Cause I have yet to learn how not to be his This city will surely burn if we keep this as it is

You spent hours searching for him, but despite trying every place you knew he liked to frequent, all efforts proved futile. You knew he wouldn’t want to be found, but still, you held a glimmer of hope in your heart that at least subconsciously, he’d want you to find him, to allow him to explain what was mostly inexplainable and inexcusable - you couldn’t blame him for proving you wrong.

Eventually, as eclipse was nearing with each passing moment, defeated and regretful, you went to the nearby river, that was almost deserted due to the approaching evening, that you hoped would bring you some answers, or some solace… some strength. What were you supposed to do? Were you supposed to listen to Eywa, and your own heart telling you to go for this mateship that you knew was wrong, but felt drawn towards, for your own twisted, sadistic reasons? Or should you listen to your mind who told you to fight for what you knew would be a comfortable, healthy future, one that didn’t particularly enthral you, but hoped you could aspire to and embrace in time, with the insight that came with getting older? As always, the war between your mind and heart led to a painful impasse where both of them were bloodied and injured, but no discernible winners were left to claim victory on the choice, or on all the questions that plagued you.

You recognised Jake’s steps and his scent as he approached you, and you sighed. You were not in the mood for a lecture. Sure enough, he sat next to you, looking at the waterfall falling violently into the otherwise peaceful river, that rippled and bruised at the contact. It was funny to you now, sitting here, how that was a perfect metaphor for your relationship with Neteyam, how in his presence, you were just a river, and he was a force of nature, there to disturb and perturb, there to change you, so aggressive and formidable, and so strangely necessary. You were sad at how much his presence in your life mattered, how you knew that despite all the hurt and the pain, you owed him so much of who you were, so much of where you were. Because he pushed you every day, to be better, to strive for more, to want to be more like him in some ways, less like him in others - a better daughter, a better friend, a better sibling, a better soldier, a better warrior, a better clan member.

“Hey, kid. What are you doing here, eclipse will be upon us soon. You know the rules.”

“I know the rules, Jake. And with all due respect, right now, I really couldn’t care less about them.”

You turned to him and noted his expression melting from one of annoyance, raised eyebrow and an open mouth, ready to chastise you for your insubordination and recalcitrance, into a soft and pitying one, as he took in your tear-stained face and trembling lips. You never cried, not in front of anyone who mattered, so the fact that here you stood, so obviously distressed, concerned Jake more than he could say out loud.

“What’s wrong, baby girl? What happened?”

“I… I need to find O'ì'en… I’ve been looking for hours, but I can’t find him. Have you seen him anywhere?” Your sniffles and a hoarse, broken voice were more than enough to bring a grimace to the Olo’eyktan’s face.

“Oh, honey…” his arms circled your much smaller body and he squeezed, the much needed hug warm and very welcome. Your hand tightened around his forearm, and you started sobbing silently as he held you. You’ve always been immensely grateful for the Sullys and their patriarch, but especially so in moments like this, when his paternal instincts kicked in, a role he was much better at than he ever gave himself credit for.

“I ruined it… I ruined everything. I should have told him, I should have been honest with him. I should have come to you and asked you to free me of this responsibility that I never wanted to shoulder in the first place.”

“You can still ask, kid. We would never force you into something you genuinely aren’t comfortable with, and you should know that. In fact, you do know that. But you didn’t come. Why?”

You had no answer to that, because truthfully, you didn’t know. Getting revenge on Neteyam wasn’t a good enough answer, and more and more, you realised that - and you knew Jake would challenge you on it as soon as the words came out of your mouth. Getting revenge isn’t a good enough reason to sacrifice your own happiness, and liberty, your future as a warrior and your future with the man you wanted to want so badly. It wasn’t a good enough reason because it wasn’t the reason - not the only reason, not the full reason, but that was something you couldn't think about, you couldn't even fathom, not yet, so you didn't.

At your lack of response, Jake sighed and looked contemplatively at the river being perturbed by the waterfall crashing on it, at the way the water rippled and undulated, at the way the bioluminescent glow of the underwater plankton, that was visible now that eclipse settled over the land, warped under its force.

“Did I ever tell you I had this girlfriend back on Earth? This was when I was young, about your age.” You shook your head softly, not looking at him, still focused and mesmerised by the same view he was studying.

“She was amazing. So kind, and sweet, and beautiful… and good. Too good for me. And I loved her. She was the first girl I looked at and thought that maybe, just maybe, she would be the one. I used to pick her up after her classes were over and we would just drive in my car, just down the coast, in Anaheim at sundown, and I remember feeling so happy, thinking that I would feel this way the rest of my life.”

You thought about that, and about your boyfriend, who very much seemed like what Jake was describing, who brought you comfort and safety. You thought about walking with him in this place Jake called Anaheim, in a heavenly place away from hurt and pain, away from mistakes and fears, just two people who loved each other, who wanted to spend the rest of their lives together. You felt grief envelop you when the face that appeared in your visions wasn’t the one you wanted to see, the one you hoped you’d see, the one you needed to see. You hated your brain and your heart for not allowing you to commit to him the way you knew you should, in the way that would ensure you a future of happiness and peace, a love worth harbouring, a pure and kind love, just like the one Jake described.

“What happened? Between… you and her, I mean?” Jake shrugged, a small, content smile on his face.

“It just didn’t work out. I joined the military, she continued her studies. We would have never worked. I wasn’t good enough for her, and she deserved someone who could love her the way she was meant be loved. Anaheim is still a beautiful memory to me, and I’ll always cherish it, but it made way for something much, much better. For both of us.

I think sometimes we hold on to things we think we need, we want to want, but these things pertain to a version of ourselves that isn’t fully authentic. I think it’s easy to pretend when we’re with certain people that life is one way, that we could fit in it, in this world we’ve created in our heads, in the world that they inspire, but the sooner we accept the realities of our circumstances, of who we are and where we truly belong, the more time we have to enjoy life for how it’s meant to be lived: fully, wildly, being wholly ourselves.”

He stood up and headed back towards the village, not before giving you an affectionate pat on the head and a squeeze of your shoulders. His last words echoed in your ears long after he departed, leaving you with so much to think about, and so much pain at knowing he was right, and that soon, you’d have to break a heart and learn to mend your own.

“You can still ask, kid. I just think, deep down, Anaheim isn’t for you… just like it wasn’t for me.”

But I'd give anything to stop time And drive around Anaheim at sun down And teach my mind to put you first

It took the whole night, but you eventually found him, after a painful conversation with his mother, at a different river he used to love coming to as a little kid with his father, one much further away from the village. He was sitting on the river bank, lost in thought, his feet dangling mindlessly in the water that rushed downstream, agitated and tumultuous, much like your mind. You sighed deeply, trying your hardest to build up the courage for the most difficult conversation you’ve ever had, one in which you knew the end result was a broken heart, one that you caused, that you never meant to, that you would never want. You knew what it was like to be broken-hearted, sad and unmoored from the reality you’ve built up in your mind, from your hopes and dreams, from the future you were promised and now will never have again. But after the conversation with Jake, you knew it was the right thing to do. You loved O'ì'en, you truly did, just not enough to ever give him everything he needed and deserved, not for the rest of your life. You had darkness in you he would never be skilled enough to wander through, to bring light into, and you would never want him to try, not when it would dim his own light, that deserved to be nourished and heightened by someone, who much like him, was good and pure, and better than you’d ever be.

“O'ì'en…”

He wasn’t startled by your presence. His gaze didn’t shift from where it was intently fixed, and you knew you shouldn’t expect that it did. You wouldn’t want to look at yourself, either.

“You know, I watched for so long the interactions between you and Neteyam, and they always made me sad and uncomfortable. The hatred that I could not understand, that seemed to occupy so much of your time and space in both your minds, that consumed you both. I watched it, and I wanted to say something, but I never thought it was my place. It hurt me, seeing you suffer at his hands, and hurt me that you always reciprocated, that you never took the high road, that you always felt the need to one-up him, to give as good as you got. It was so toxic and unhealthy, and I hoped in time, you’d move away from it. I hoped I could help you. But now, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to, not anymore. And I don’t know if I want to.”

Tears rolled down your face with every word uttered, with every sentence that cut deeper and deeper in you, until you were bleeding and bruised, until it all hurt, being here, seeing him, hearing him, the past and the future, the present and your actions, and Neteyam’s actions, and everything that lead to this moment. It was so much easier to get your heart broken, you realise faintly, than to break a heart. Heartbroken, you could pity yourself, victimise yourself, tell yourself and the world that it’s not you, but the other person, the one who instigated it. You can sleep at night knowing you were wronged, that if it wasn’t for the pain that someone else caused you, things would be different, easier. There was nothing easy about watching a good person suffer and knowing you caused it, and you wondered how you were ever going to fall asleep again, how were you going to be able to live with yourself.

“I didn’t choose this, O'ì'en… any of this. I need you to know this. Mo’at asked us to come to her as a matter of urgency the other day, she told us that Eywa gave her a sign, showed her a vision, and that by her will, Neteyam and I will have to become a mated-pair.” You felt bad about leaving out certain… extenuating circumstances, but you realise that sometimes, certain things are better left unsaid and once some words are uttered, some actions taken, they can’t be recalled, they can’t be reversed, they won’t dematerialise - their echoes will forever ring through time, leaving damage and hurt in their wake, and you didn’t want that - not for him.

“Have you told her you don’t want to? Have you gone to the Tsa’hik, or the Olo’eyktan, or the Tsakarem and talked to them, told them you are in love with someone else, that you made up your mind? Did you fight for us at any point? For me?”

Your eyes widened at his words, that had an edge to them you’ve never observed in him before, that you didn’t even realise he was truly capable of. The words stung needles on your skin and in your eyes, that had prickling tears still falling uninterrupted, like summer rain, soaking your heart and soul that hurt because you knew that you couldn’t give him an answer that would satisfy him… you couldn’t give him an answer at all.

“They look at you like you’re their daughter. They would listen to you if you asked. But you didn’t, did you?”

“I once overheard Lo’ak talk about you and Neteyam to his human friend. He was concerned about you. About both of you. But aside from that, he talked about you two like you were an inevitability. About passion that ran so deep there was no way only hatred fuelled it. That there must be something underneath it all. I heard this and it made me angry at the time… I thought that he was unreasonable and out of line. Naively, I took your affection at face value and never looked beyond. Until now, that is. When I realised that in our time together, all the time we shared, all the moments that were sweet and innocent and everything I’ve ever wanted, you’ve never once shared even a fraction of that passion for me.”

“O'ì'en, no…”

“I think, deep down, you don’t want to get out of this because it’s finally a way to bridge the gap that has existed between you and Neteyam for so long, a gap you secretly wished had never existed. I think you’ve been in love with him since you were children, and this was the perfect opportunity to change a path you thought was set in stone before. I think he’s in love with you, too. But both of you are too mean, too stubborn with each other to see past your differences. To talk.”

“You’re wrong.” The temper was rising in your chest as his head continued shaking, denying your statement, as his words were processing in your mind, the unbelievable, insane, unreasonable words that you couldn’t believe were being uttered right before you, not by him. You wanted to scream at him, to shout and tell him that it’s all wrong, all of this, everything is all wrong. That the passion he’s talking about is just intense dislike that was so grand, so overpowering, it couldn’t be contained inside your body, nor inside his. That you were not in love with Neteyam - you hated Neteyam. With every fibre of your being, you loathed the man that hurt you so deeply, so intimately, for so long, that forsook the past you shared and the memories you made and what you meant to him, or what he meant to you.

You wanted to tell him that he’s delusional in ever thinking that man could ever be in love with you, when all he did was find new ways to torture you, to belittle you, to make you feel lesser than him, lesser than anyone he knew. How could that ever be love? How could that ever work? This was love. What you had with O'ì'en. Pure and good and kind and easy. Love wasn’t supposed to hurt, right? Love was supposed to feel natural, like coming home after a long, exhausting day, it wasn’t supposed to be what made the day long and exhausting in the first place. He was so wrong.

But you didn’t find it in you to argue with him. Not with him. Someone else will have to bear the consequences of your repressed anger, but not O'ì'en, because he deserves better than what he got, and what you gave, and in truth.. none of this mattered anyway. Arguing would make no difference in this doomed relationship, so you calmed yourself for the time being and spoke in as even of a tone you could manage.

“O'ì'en… I think you’re wrong. But, it doesn’t matter. You’re right that I didn’t talk to Mo’at, and that I should have. Regardless of the circumstances that led to this, I am so sorry. I will forever be sorry for the way you found out, for the way this came to be. I’m so sorry you had to be collateral damage in a war that is only mine to bear. I had a whole plan about how to tell you, I had so many things I wanted to say to you. That I’m grateful to you, and that I love you. That I’m sorry it wasn’t the way that you deserve to be loved, but I do love you. That I will never forget you, and your affection that shone so brightly over me, that was a safe haven from the bad storms I’ve had to weather for so long. That I’ll be sorry every day that I wasn’t good enough for you, but am relieved by the notion that one day, you’ll find someone so much better than me, someone who will be able to give you everything you deserve and then some, and I’m relieved in knowing you will be thankful to have been rid of me.”

You decided this would have to be enough for now. One day, maybe you’ll be able to face him again. One day, maybe he’ll even be able to spare you a glance, or a smile. But not today.

“I hope you forgive me one day.”

“Me, too.”

But I'd give anything to stop time, commit to you and not crimes Against your truth and lose sight of every divide threatening to undo this story But baby, I'm so sorry, I don't think that I'll ever memorise this route

It was a long way back to the village, and with every step taken and every moment passed, the anger that you tried to stifle for his sake came back ten fold - the tiring days of fighting, of crying, of suffering, of uncertainty and rampant emotions all building up within you, all coming to a calamitous zenith that threatened to spill all around you, that begged and urged for revenge, for payback on the man that caused it all, the man that was at the centre of all your life’s woes.

He ruined your relationship? Well… let’s see how he’ll like a taste of his own medicine. You knew exactly where you’ll find him, because you knew he’d be in the place he knew he could pester you the most, in a place that’s supposed to be yours, that he tainted over and over, that you will make sure to conquer back from him, the way you eventually would all of the pieces of yourselves he’s taken from you through time.

Your tent was quiet and untouched, unlike the little nook behind it, that was completely segregated from the rest of the clan, an oasis of secrecy and privacy in an otherwise bustling environment. A place that should be yours alone, but now hid two Na’vi, one of them mewling softly at the actions of the other. Neteyam was focused on his mate’s neck, their make-out session so intense, they didn’t even notice you until it was too late, until you stood behind them, until your presence was announced by a deep sigh and a disappointed click of your tongue.

“Oh, how disappointing.”

The girl let out a distressed yelp at your voice and pushed Neteyam off of her, eliciting a deep growl from the man that was less than impressed by the interruption.

“Am I interrupting?”

You saw Neteyam’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of you, at the way he knew what was coming. You laughed at his expression. What did he think was going to happen after what he’s done? What did he think you were going to do finding them here? The evil smirk that possessed you reminded you of his, and you wondered if this is how panicked you looked, too, when you saw him approaching you and O'ì'en.

“You know, if you’re going to continue going against the Olo’eyktan and the Tsa’hik’s wishes and cheat on your mate, I wouldn’t do it… you know, right outside of her tent.”

“WHAT?!” The high-pitched screech nearly deafened you, but you didn’t let it show. Instead you just watched as Neteyam scrambled to get himself out of the eye of the storm threatening to tear him apart.

“Tìlor, I -“

“Ah, your boyfriend didn’t tell you?” Your smile was sickeningly sweet as you approached the couple, stopping right next to Neteyam, placing a hand on his arm, tracing the protruding veins that made saliva pool in your mouth, and you bit back a laugh at the girl’s rabid look, that looked a lot like she was going to pounce on you at any given moment - you hoped she did. Nothing would make you happier than to have an excuse to rearrange her braids. This girl that always looked down on you, that looked at you like you were an outsider or a freak, that never even tried to mask her jealousy, her disdain, her fear at the fact the Sullys preferred you, and always will.

“I will be your Tsa’hik soon. Isn’t that right… yawne?”

“So unless you want me to go and tell the clan leaders… and your mother… and your father, and everyone who matters that you’ve been fucking someone else’s mate and watch as little by little, your entire world falls apart around you, I suggest you realise this man right here, he’s not worth it. Not worth all the drama, not worth all the fuss. Just go, and find yourself a single mate, and give thanks to Eywa she’s rid you of him, cause damn, I know I wish I could be.”

The hatred in her eyes was slowly replaced with fear and embarrassment, and for a second, just a second - you felt bad for her. Because no matter how badly she’s treated you, how she’s adopted Neteyam’s behaviour as her own with no reason or rhyme, much like O'ì'en, she was also just another collateral victim in a war that kept claiming lives and hearts, and you wondered where, if at all, the line would be drawn, when, if ever, would enough be enough?

You watched as she scrambled to fasten her top around her neck properly and without another word, she was gone, leaving just you and Neteyam alone, with enough tension in the air around you to suffocate you, to feel like smoke from a fire so grand, you didn't know if weren’t skilled enough to put out.

'Cause I have yet to know how to be mine You can try to unearth this soul I swear you'll hate what you find

“Why?”

“You’re making out with someone behind my tent, knowing that would piss me off, after what you did yesterday, and you have the nerve to ask me why?” you threw your head back and laughed at the outrageousness of the question. Neteyam wasn’t stupid - far from it. He was also not naive, or oblivious, or harebrained. The question had no business coming out of his mouth, but yet it did. You didn't have time to ponder the reasons why.

“You see, Neteyam, I think you came here because you knew I’d come. Because you secretly wanted me to. Because you know deep down that this girl has nothing to offer you, and you just needed an easy way out to rid yourself of her, and you needed me to do your dirty work for you again. Well, you’re welcome, Neteyam. What the fuck would you ever do without me, huh?”

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite. All the theatricals of being heartbroken over what I did to O'ì'en and then you do the exact same thing to someone else, someone innocent.”

“Innocent, ha! You think I give a shit about your little girlfriend’s feelings, when you treated O'ì'en the way you did? He didn’t deserve this, Neteyam. Any of this. He’s good man, he respects you, and looks up to you. He -“

“He should have known better than to associate himself with you.” His bared fangs didn’t do as much to scare you, not nearly as much as his proximity to you did, at the way his eyes stared daggers at your face, that even in the heat of the moment, at the peak of anger and hatred, couldn’t help settle on your parted, wet lips. “He should have known better and realise that all you bring in people’s life is disappointment and pain. He also should have known better and realise you didn’t love him. That you never will. That you might try to act like it and convince yourself, but someone like him would never, ever satisfy you.”

“And who the fuck would satisfy me, Neteyam? You? That’s rich. I bet your poor little girlfriend’s happy she’s rid of you. Bet you haven’t made her cum once. Too busy thinking of training and ruining my life, too busy thinking about how great you think you are to make room for anyone else in there.” You poked him in the chest with your index finger, right over his heart. Your touch lingered on his body, somehow unable to bring yourself to stop, half in awe at the way his heart was racing, at the way yours beat almost in sync with his, at the way you tried to convince yourself it’s because of the anger you were feeling, and no other reason.

“Yeah? Is that what you think?”

And there he was again, once more grabbing you by your throat, and you wanted to object, and fight him, but you didn’t - you couldn’t -, not as you felt throbbing deep within you at the action, not as you had to push your thighs together to accommodate for the increasingly uncomfortable sensation, not as your loincloth was becoming more and more damp by the second. And you remember your words, and remember that you told him that if he ever touched you again, you’ll make him pay for it, but right now, in this moment, you couldn’t find it in you to speak a word, as the intensity of his gaze knocked the air out of your lungs and his fingers squeezed just enough so no more could get back in you. Your back scratched painfully against a tree as he pushed you into it, and you couldn’t help a small moan as his other hand pushed your loincloth to the side, brushing over your folds that were now sopping and swollen. He let out a soft chuckle as he felt you.

“If that’s what you really thought, you wouldn’t be dripping on my fingers right now, tsxepvi.”

Slowly, deliberately, he started exploring your heat, thumb ghosting over your clit as he watched you squirm under his touch, struggling between what you knew you should do, between your conscious mind telling you you were going to pay for this in tears and heartache, and your subconscious mind screaming to let go, to embrace the overbearing desire to give in to him, as you did in the dreams you convinced yourself in time were nightmares, but knew more and more each day that it was just another lie you told yourself to keep going.

One side of you won by a landslide, as he gently pushed two fingers in you, as he started increasing the pressure with which he was massaging your clit, and it felt so good, too good, better than anything you’ve ever felt before. You tried to contain the sounds coming through gritted teeth with all your might, knowing what he was doing, knowing giving him any indication of the pleasure he was giving you would mean another thing you’d have to pay for later, knowing you couldn’t allow him to enjoy this, you couldn’t possibly give him the satisfaction of knowing he could do this to you, but you couldn’t stop, not when his fingers curled in you and found the spongy part that made you see glimmering, blinding lights and his thumb circled your needy bud in the perfect way to heighten the sensations running through you, electrifying your every nerve. The moans turn into mewls as he increases the pressure and his pace, and you felt the pleasure in you reach a high that you were ready to ride out, your orgasm so close you could practically taste it, and you’re barely able to think about how fucking quick it was, how it took no time at all for him to get you there, how skilled his fingers, as they worked his ministrations on you. You had no will to think about what the fuck was happening, how weird it was, how the man you’ve hated for so long is doing this to you, before the feeling got too overwhelming to be contained anymore.

“Fuck, i’m gonna -“

“That’s right, tsxepvi. I can feel you squeezing my fingers. You want to come for me?”

“Argh, I-“

The moan you let you wasn’t of pleasure, it was of deep, throbbing pain as the emptiness overtook you, as soon as he removed his fingers.

He smirked, an evil smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, as his fingers found his lips and he sucked on them, his tongue swirling in between them, licking every single drop.

“You taste fucking amazing, tsxepvi. Maybe next time, if you apologise and behave, you’ll actually get to cum.”

And with that, he was gone, living you an empty, horrified mess, as the high came crashing down violently and the consequences of the last few minutes replaced it to lead you in a spiral of mixed thoughts and feelings, each one more terrifying than the last.

'Cause I am lost, but not in you Yes, I am lost, but not in you

taglist: @fanboyluvr @theycallmesia @afro-hispwriter @soleilmoon @crazy4books1 @bakugouswaif@randxmthxughts @xreadersstuff @sirezaya @kimberlyshailany-blog @gyuventure @jujudsmyst @kikookii @nxptury @nonniesworld @koing-slvt @bakugouswaif @isnt-itstrange @tpwkforevermore @alahamums @tallulah477 @gknj9495@aquamarine001 @itssomeonereading @yumimak @sweetbread-m @eqgroil @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @juneonhoth @yagirlheree @jackiehollanderr @legendarynoodlebowl @iameatingmyhair @justasimps-blog

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teledild0nix · 3 months

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what are thee best drarry fics to read in this day and age? I've not read any for a few years and I don't know what's good 🤔

what an incredibly flattering question! i do not know what your tastes run to, but here are a few of my recentish favorites in no particular order. i think these are all m or e, as that tends to be what i go for. they're also properly adults, well out of hogwarts, and the stories are sort of mid length, over 10K, under 100K. make sure you read the tags!

Necro-romance by @thehoneybeet coming in hot!!!! i feel like this is a very very profoundly drarry story. we are fucked up in some of the same ways so let's do weird sex about it. dark, weird, very tender. incredible atmosphere. loved it!!!

In Every Universe by @skeptiquewrites this is like an AU hopping fic where draco is on the run for Reasons, and harry is chasing him. not with state violence in his heart. please come home. EXQUISITE worldbuilding, one of my favorite things about Tee's fics. This fic is so fun and there are also some really heartwrenching moments that i won't even come close to spoiling. god i love it it's so fucking good

Anatomy of a Wolf Heart this fic is orphaned but i actually do know the author very well (and love him with all my heart). this is an amazing draco. he's dealing with some significant trauma on top of what he went through in canon. all i'm gonna say is werewolf draco cinematic universe my beloved. i love this harry, too. compulsively doing the right thing even as it fucks his whole life up. yum.

Home Truths another @skeptiquewrites fic bc Tee's writing got me WEAK. i rlly love the ensemble here!!! harry and draco are both amazing characters whom i adore, but they are also surrounded by other characters who feel so real and so lived in. wonderful worldbuilding as per usual w this author. and. harry is a pro athlete at the peak of his career so uh. he do be inhabiting his physical form. it's sexy okay. damn. Tee has a talent for capturing Draco's drama and prissiness without making him feel like a caricature. i found this story genuinely inspiring for lots of reasons, and i can't say enough good things about it.

Preserving Lemons by @saintgarbanzo (this one is locked to the archive, so you'll need to be logged in to read it) god i love this story!!! food as a love language? gender magic? fucking YES PLEASE. it's nice to see them get out of the typical Stately Homes backdrop (i enjoy that too, but. well i'm not going to go off on a tangent about it now. variety is the spice of life!). lots of sensuality here and a heaping dollop of straight up fucking. i just love this depiction of them. i love draco's offers of vulnerability and harry's diving in face first. LOVE.

A Gift of True Esteem by ME! i am big enough to acknowledge that i write fucking good fic okay!!! hogwarts professors, chronic illness, historiography, gratuitous use of patronuses, fun world building in general. harry has been self-isolating a little bit. burying himself in his work. he has to let himself feel things again. joy, love, pleasure. draco makes him want to.

Names for a House this is also by me bc it's my fuckn list and i do what i want!!! harry is raising teddy lupin after andromeda gets sick (don't worry i do not kill off any old ladies in this fic). harry is also the wizarding world's first novelist. teddy lupin is a budding werewolf about to go off to hogwarts, and harry is not sure how to do right by him. FORTUNATELY harry's erstwhile nemesis and current cursebreaker is also a werewolf and teddy's cousin, and he's more than willing to help out.

#drarry fic rec #apliddell #my mutuals are very talented #it's so cool to like. spend time around people whose art you enjoy #it's like. inspiring!!!

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fire-fira · 3 months

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I am not sure how much you are into analysis but I want to ask. Do you think raph isn’t as good of a fighter compared to his brothers? because I have a feeling either he’s holding back when sparring with them over fear of harming them or he’s not as good as them.

Anon, you just made my day because this gives me an excuse to nerd out at length. (Though apologies that it took me so long to get this fully written out and posted.)

Disclaimer before I launch into it in full: to fairly compare Raph to his brothers I'm going to do a brief run-down of the three of them before breaking into the full details on him. A lot of this is built on extrapolation from details in various canons and at times might edge toward headcanon territory, though I'll be trying to stick with what's actually present.

With that out of the way--

Comparing Raph to His Brothers

So to start with, I can only fairly do this deep-dive by briefly touching on each of his brothers before getting to Raph himself. I'll say upfront that I think it's less a question of which one is the "best fighter" and more that they're each different types of fighters, each with their own strengths and weaknesses and which might land any of them in the position of "the best" depending on the circumstances.

Leo

Strengths: This is an extrapolation based on various iterations (2003, 2007, 2012, 2014/2016, ROTTMNT, 2023, Batman vs. TMNT, and a little bit of the IDW comics), but Leo strikes me as a tactician-- as the guy who can extrapolate to fifteen different possibilities for the outcome of a fight and fifteen steps ahead of everyone else on each of those possibilities. At his best he knows how to play to his brothers' strengths, put them where needed, and let them go to do their own thing. He's also persistent and willing to put himself through his paces over and over again until he 'perfects' what he wants to learn how to do. As a "traditional" (romanticized) example of a warrior, he is the golden boy of the family. Rise Leo might be a little less likely to get every step 'just so,' but most iterations of him aim to be as flawless as possible in terms of his combat skills. In his ideal world, he will never have a misplaced swing of a sword or inflict any damage he doesn't intend to. That depth of knowledge and highly-trained skill can be damned terrifying for his enemies if it's taken to its fullest extreme.

Weaknesses: His perfectionism and desire to get things 'just right' is a double-edged sword. In the 2003 series it got wrapped up in his PTSD and the need to never make a critical mistake again (which... didn't work out well for him-- hi, shades of Raph at his worst); in the 2007 movie it led him to think his efforts to learn how to be a better leader weren't "good enough" and kept him away from home for two years; in the 2012 series it led him to ignore critical injuries and try to bully himself into being 'better' (when realistically what he did during the farmhouse arc probably would have permanently destroyed one of his knees); in the 2014/2016 movies it led him to temporarily damage his relationship with his brothers by spilling over the worst of his internal perfectionistic vitriol onto them; and in Rise it at times has turned him into a showoff who'll act without letting the others in on his plan (which can backfire horrendously in a worst-case scenario) because if he does it without telling others what he's going to do, then he gets bragging rights if it works out like he planned. Underlying all this is what could turn into an unmanageable case of anxiety depending on the version of Leo and how personally stable he is, as well as how susceptible he is to ruminating over where he feels he went wrong. To say nothing of how many versions of Leo have a GIANT self-sacrificing streak when it comes to their families. Under the right circumstances-- and if someone really intended to make it hurt-- they could easily play all that against Leo and get him to freeze due to overthinking. (Though getting him to that level would take an extreme case and some severe emotional damage to weaponize his guilt.)

Speed: OKAY. Here's where things get a little more cut-and-dried in my opinion-- if a fight is down to just speed anyway. Leo might be pretty neck-in-neck with Raph in terms of speed, maybe just a touch faster due to (generally) being more lean-built than Raph. Leo's not a tank; yes he can fight in close quarters or mid-range and hold his own, but if he can then he tends to be 'slippery' about it. He's not going to batter away at an enemy if he can spin out of range before darting back in and dodging whatever hits he can. If it's just a matter of speed without any other factors involved, then there's a good chance Leo will win in a fight against Raph. If it's a question of strength and endurance though... Well, I'll expand further on that when I get to Raph.

Adaptability: This is something that is absolutely dependent on which version of Leo we're talking about and how hung up that version is on his plans without taking the general chaos of life into account. 2012 and 2014/2016 Leo both are guilty of getting so hung up on the idea that their approach to a combat situation is the right way that they fail to plan for the fact that their brothers' ways of doing things isn't their way of doing things. Which blows up in their faces spectacularly sometimes. IF it's a version of Leo who's more likely to fail to take into account his brothers' differing styles, then Raph might easily play that against him and deliberately do things Leo would find unpredictable (though probably not as much as Mikey, lbr). For versions of him that are better about knowing that his own approach isn't the only/'best' approach, then Leo would be better able to roll with whatever Raph throws his way, within reason.

Combat Style/Approach: Mid-to-close-range, tactician, and definitely NOT a grappler. Yes, his skills and training have him moving with muscle memory when he needs to, but even so, there's a split-second awareness of what his opponent(s) could do and instinctively reacting based on what he's met with. A lot of that means he has to be free to move and avoid getting held in place, or things might go bad quickly.

Donnie

Strengths: No matter which iteration of Donnie you're talking about, you're generally talking about an engineer who's able and willing to casually heft up and carry around a car engine with his bare hands. And considering (with a quick google search) it looks like the average car engine weighs anywhere between 300 to 700 pounds, that alone is proof enough that no one in their right mind would ever want to be punched by Donnie. And considering there are instances where he's able to temporarily support the weight of himself and his brothers (a couple of scenes in the 2003 series are what immediately come to my mind, but that's just my favorite iteration showing itself) it's proof that he has that strength not just in his arms. To give you an idea of just how much weight that implies he can lift, here's a size and weight comparison of some of the largest turtle species currently living.*

Notice anything? Like how... Oh... I dunno... a 4-foot-long Loggerhead sea turtle can weigh up to 400 pounds? Or a 3-foot-long Leatherback sea turtle can weigh 550 pounds on the light end? (Note: this is not meant to be snarky or condescending, just a simple statement of fact that all signs point to these boys are fucking HEAVY.) And that huge amount of weight relative to their body size seems to be pretty consistent among turtle species from what I've seen with my digging around. Which logically implies that the same holds true for these boys, and if we play fast-and-loose with the idea that we can roughly translate length to height... well... For general weight of the boys, I tend to assume at least 200 pounds, at least for those under and up to about 5-foot-tall. For the 2014/2016 set I might even suggest somewhere between 400-500 pounds-- but roughly comparing weight to size with that table of large turtle species, I'm probably severely underestimating their weight all across the board. Being generous, hypothetically saying all four of the 2003 turtles are about 240, that then means there are moments in the 2003 series where Donnie is temporarily lifting around 960 pounds, including himself. AND THAT MIGHT BE A SEVERE UNDERESTIMATION. Terrifying, right? So yes, Donnie is unquestionably strong as hell and maintains that strength by working on his various projects, and a full-force hit from him would land someone in a hospital-- if they're lucky. The other main thing working for him is that he's a tech genius. No, he's typically not as rigid or disciplined in his training as Leo is, but if he has access to tech and distance then he has a whole host of weapons and traps he can bring to the party (something which Rise Donnie excels at in spades). Raph's a much more physical direct-confrontation fighter, but Donnie has the capacity to turn entire environments against his enemies, depending on the means he has at his disposal.

Weaknesses: For better or worse, Donnie's primary personal strength-- the one he leans on above all else-- is his intellect and being able to puzzle things out. And again, he's an engineer: yes he can lift and move that terrifying amount of weight, but he's usually not doing it at speed. (Because let's be real, moving heavy and potentially very breakable machinery is not something you want to do quickly when you want to be able to use or repurpose said machinery.) He's not a slouch when it comes to his ninjutsu training, but there's a reason why the concept of Donnie pulling the 'I'm too busy to train right now' is a widespread fandom concept. It doesn't necessarily mean that he's not 'as good of a ninja', but more that he's not a 'traditional' ninja and has had to adapt things to his preferred methods. Yes he has a lot of physical strength, but he prefers to keep a distance from his opponent(s) if possible. Doing so, having that distance, gives him more time to plan and respond-- because unlike Leo, a lot of iterations of Donnie don't have that ingrained ability to read the possible actions their opponent(s) might take and respond on a dime (or at least not to the same level). Raph's tendency to brute force things-- something which Donnie technically could do but clearly does not like to-- might be somewhat unpredictable for him, especially because that puts Raph in close and doesn't give Donnie as much time to respond as he would like. All that said, Donnie could technically win a fight against Raph without his tech if he pretty much said to hell with fighting and decided to do an imitation of an octopus. At the very least he could probably hold him in one place if he was quick enough and managed to get Raph's arms pinned. And somehow kept him from walking. (It wouldn't be a dignified win, but it might still technically be a win.)

Speed: I'm gonna be honest, I do not think speed is on Donnie's side in comparison to his brothers. If he really makes an effort (rather than just going his own route and pursuing his interests) he'd probably be able to keep up with the others going at full tilt for a little while, but he'd probably tire out first. A lot of the work he does due to his areas of expertise is fairly sedentary, and frequently he needs to move with slow and deliberate precision. There's a lot of fine muscle control involved in that kind of work (especially if it involves maneuvering something heavy), but being able to consistently do that doesn't automatically translate to being able to do something similar at high speed. But that's okay, because if he has the distance and varied means of attack he needs, then he doesn't have to worry about keeping up with his brothers for an extended period of time-- it just has to be long enough.

Adaptability: If it involves tech or computer systems, Donnie's ability to adapt to a situation is unparalleled. Give him unrestrained access to an unfamiliar and shiny (and incredibly pervasive) system and he'll be able to make it seem like a tech apocalypse is targeting one specific person if he wants to. If it's a head-to-head physical fight though, it really depends on how desperate he is or how much breathing room he has (or both). If he's frazzled and panicky then there's the possibility he'll miss several opportunities or potential tools and, in a worst-case scenario, he might freeze. (An extreme example of this is how Rise Donnie gave up fighting the crab men when his tech failed, after all his brothers had already failed in that fight.) If he has time and space to think then he's practically unstoppable, but if he doesn't have that breathing room then chances are things won't end well for him.

Combat Style/Approach: Distance fighter, brain-over-brawn, could be a grappler if necessary but uncomfortable enough with it that it might work against him, might as well dub him a 'trap master' for the little surprises he might leave in his wake if he's feeling spiteful. He's a schemer, but not a chess master.

Mikey

Strengths: If there's one thing that can be said for Mikey it's the fact that most versions of him are innately gifted at picking up kinesthetic knowledge, to say nothing of the fact that he tends to be the most spiritually gifted of the brothers. In fact in several series (2003 and 2012 off the top of my head, though I'm certain it may have popped up in others) it's briefly mentioned that if Mikey really buttoned down and was completely serious about his ninja skills he would outclass Leo-- which means that he can naturally slide into the level of skill Leo has worked for years to achieve without even really thinking about it. If he wants to. And most of the time he doesn't want to. (Too much responsibility being that serious, so who can blame him?) However, his not constantly going at the equivalent of Level 99 in a videogame in fights isn't necessarily a detriment to him, because he has other ways to stay true to himself while giving himself an edge. Like being annoying on purpose. And knowing how to aggravate the hell out of his opponents until he tricks them into getting sloppy. Until he tricks them into giving him easy openings they should REALLY know better than to give him-- and would if he hadn't deliberately torn their nerves to shreds. If it's not obvious, I'm saying versions of Mikey like to play mind-games, and if they really want to they can be vicious about it and make it HURT. (Though again, most versions of Mikey are more invested in goofing off and playing around than being outright vicious or serious.) The point is, if he finds a mental opening that sticks, then how invested he is in winning the fight will dictate how serious he is about exploiting that weakness. To say nothing about how creative he can get when he really wants to be.

Weaknesses: The downfall of a lot of Mikeys is how distractable a lot of them can be. (I won't say this is a universal fact because I'm a big fan of there being variation among different realities, but a lot of Mikeys definitely being ADHD doesn't help. How well said version is able to compensate probably also varies.) So depending on the circumstances and the environment, Raph might be able to play that distractibility against him. (Buuuut that would require Raph to play mind-games, and most Raphs aren't the 'mind-game' type.) Plus, for better or worse, it takes a LOT to get most versions of Mikey to the point where he's ready to say 'Fuck everything' and throw everything he can into ending a fight right that second.

Speed: Mikey is, in my honest opinion (and based off most of the series and movies I've seen), the fastest of the brothers-- bar none. Which means if he tore off at full speed with the intention of skipping a fight entirely and just making Raph chase him, Raph probably would never catch him. Until after he wears down anyway. But if he zipped off and found a good enough hiding spot, then he could probably avoid Raph for a while. In a fight, because of his speed, there's a good chance that Mikey might be able to get in more hits than Raph, but that comes with the risk of getting in close to Raph-- and that can easily work against him in very short order.

Adaptability: Mikey's adaptability is through the roof. Most versions of Mikey, you can throw damn near anything their way and they'll roll with it in such a way that they land on their feet while their brothers are still scrambling for stable footing. There's also the fact that he's a very lateral thinker and able to apply concepts from seemingly unrelated sources to scenarios many others wouldn't even think to combine-- and he does so to his advantage. So yeeeeeeaaaaahhhhh, given enough room and space to work with (and not panicking), then there's a good chance Mikey's going to catch Raph off guard with something he'd never expect.

Combat Style/Approach: Close range, flighty, dart in-range to hit and then dart back out of range, mind-games and making his opponents angry to the point of getting sloppy seems to be his preferred tactic. He could be the most terrifying to go up against in a fight if he went absolutely stone serious, but 99.9999% of the time he does not want to and would much rather slip in some fun where he can. (If you don't believe me on that last point, consider that in the 2003 series I'm reasonably sure he has the highest body count of all the brothers, in the 2012 series he killed a kraang and wore the dude's skin on his head multiple times, and in Rise ALL of Dr. Delicate Touch and the frothing maniacal rage he has when angry. 'Nuff said.)

Raph

And here we come to the turtle in question himself, Raph. Hamato Raphael, Raphael Splinterson, Raphie-boy, take your pick.

Strengths: Raph is a TANK. Barring '87, this boy in most iterations pretty much makes it his mission in life to be the strongest of him and his brothers. He's also stubborn as hell and WILL NOT give in if he thinks it's important to stand his ground. Which means he can and will hold his ground and dig in long past when his brothers each have to retreat or fold; he can take the hits they can't and come out the other side still kicking. And what's more, if he feels the need to and is able to get up and be mobile, then he WILL hunt you down for as long as it takes and damned near nothing will stop him-- he is that. damned. STUBBORN. Let's be real, that combination is terrifying. Of course, naturally, this brings up questions of just how physically strong he is. I pointed out up in Donnie's section that Donnie is ridiculously strong, but just how strong is Raph? To answer that question, the infamous scene from 2007:

Just how much psi does it take to snap a katana? WELL, it turns out that finding out that information is really difficult (at least when I was nosing around and trying to find out). When I was doing my initial searching I found a video on facebook examining an anime scene (at the time-- back in September-- it was literally the only thing that remotely came close to answering my question that popped up) that claimed it would take at least 20,000 psi. Being that the person who posted that video didn't include any sources for reference, I'd take it with a grain of salt (especially since despite my best efforts I'm having a hard time finding that video again), but still. If-- for the sake of argument-- we assume that the 20,000 psi measurement is accurate for what it would take to snap a katana, that would mean that our boy Raph is capable of exerting that much force with each hand. And not just a brief spike of getting there either. No, for him to be capable of the force in that 2007 scene (again, assuming the number is accurate) then he has to maintain that force for longer than a second or two.

I don't know about you, but that makes this scene just that much more dangerous and intense in my eyes. It's not just that Raph could have killed Leo by stabbing him; it's also the implication that he could have easily torn Leo apart with his bare hands if he wanted to. So yeeeeeaaaahhhh, if Raph is able to get his hands on any of his brothers and is able to hold on, they're probably toast.

Weaknesses: Whoo boy. In most iterations, point blank, his biggest weakness is his temper. If he gets set off too thoroughly or if someone knows how to play it against him, his temper can make him get sloppy and lead to his defeat-- regardless of how ridiculously strong he is. It also means that, unless it's a version of him who has worked his ass off to keep himself in check, there's a good possibility that he might wind up doing things he'll regret when he's angry (and if someone really wants to twist the knife they can play that guilt and self-blame against him). If you go by 2003 and 2012 there's also his bug-phobia which can be played against him. (Even though 2003 Raph covers it with 'KILL IT WITH EXTREME PREJUDICE'.) If you go by Rise, then you DO NOT. EVER. WANT THAT BOY TO BE ALONE. And on a much more brutal note, going back to his stubbornness which is also one of his strengths

...there's a good chance that this boy might try to push himself past the breaking point if he feels it's necessary.

Speed: I've said before that I think Raph is pretty neck-in-neck with Leo when it comes to how fast he is, Mikey has them both beat in the speed department hands down, and Donnie is most likely to be the slowest moving of the four of them. If Leo has to deal with heavy weights while trying to move at speed however, Raph will have him outclassed due to having more practice in that department. For Raph to have a hope of keeping up with Mikey going full tilt in running away, Mikey would have to be carrying enough to weigh him down considerably. And while Donnie might stand a chance in trying to grapple with Raph, Raph having more experience in moving heavy weights at speed would probably mean Donnie would be better off trying to glom onto Raph like an octopus rather than outright grappling. So Raph's not the fastest, but he's not a slouch either.

Adaptability: As much as I love my boy, Raph is a tank, he's bruiser, he's a bulldozer who freely makes use of sharp and pointy things he can use to stab people with. Adaptability-- barring variation between sneaking in and out versus barreling in as loudly as possible to cause mayhem and destruction as a distraction-- is generally not in his wheelhouse. Given time and learning how to play mind games (and I don't doubt that an adult Raph could pick up and use the skill when he needs to) he'd probably become more flexible, but with where he's portrayed to be at in most iterations he hasn't gotten there yet.

Combat style/approach: Close-range, grappler, brawler, TANK. He WILL hold the line, he WILL dig in and hold his ground, he WILL be the wall and PROTECT with everything he has if he has to. He's also not above being outright brutally destructive when he feels it's warranted. And that "when he feels it's warranted" is key.

Details that affect the outcome:

Raph has a protective streak 500 miles wide. A lot of iterations try to be the wall for his family, the last line of defense when needed. He would sooner see himself hurt than anyone he cares about.

And it's not just his brothers, father, April, Casey, anyone-he-considers-family that he's protective of either.

Seriously, if someone pushes the protective button on this boy and his sense of right and wrong kicks in, he WILL get involved.

Raph cares and feels deeply; to him, family is everything.

You

have

NO IDEA

how much

this boy

LOVES

HIS FAMILY

or how much he'd tear himself up if he ever seriously hurt any of them. So the chances of him ever actually going all-out against any of his brothers is slim. (And the few instances in various iterations where he's come close it's seriously screwed him up emotionally every time. Like 2003 and the pipe incident, 2007 and the after effects of his fight with Leo, the implied guilt Rise had after he snapped back to his senses after reuniting with his brothers after he'd been alone, etc.) He might fight with his brothers, he might disagree with them from time to time, but overall he comes off as someone who firmly believes you don't ever deliberately hurt someone you should care about if you can help it. Which is backed up by instances of him panicking in various iterations where his decisions might result in his family's deaths, as well as the fact that he only really turns on any of them (think SAINW) if they cross the line of not being there for each other like he feels they should be. Some iterations might threaten to run off a lot, but he never will without a damned good reason because he loves his family too much to ever want to do that to them.

Final Assessments

Raph vs Leo: If it's in close and is just down to strength-- Raph wins. If Leo has the time he needs to scheme and play Raph the way he needs to-- Leo wins.

Raph vs Donnie: If it's in close-- Raph wins unless Donnie pulls off an imitation of an octopus and gets all of Raph's limbs pinned and holds on for dear life. If Donnie has the distance, time to scheme, and the means to set traps to his heart's content-- plus tranqs, no one wins against tranqs-- Donnie wins.

Raph vs Mikey: If Raph can get his hands on Mikey and keep him in one place-- Raph wins. If Mikey plays Raph like a fiddle with his mind games and stays out of reach-- Mikey wins.

Raph vs the three of them together: Well shit, that'd be a losing proposition under the best circumstances unless the goal was to try to out-stubborn them at something. 10/10 if he had to, Raph would keep dragging himself along even if all three of his brothers were hanging on to him to try to keep him from reaching his goal. (And if Raph hasn't exploited that fact during some wild-as-shit game of theirs, then Casey Jones is the queen of England.)

Raph vs his guilt if he actually seriously hurt them: Instantaneous loss that Raph would probably have a hard time ever forgiving himself for.

So do I think Raph is as good a fighter as his brothers? Yes.

Do I think he's holding back so he doesn't hurt them? Also yes.

Do I think anyone he went up against if he didn't hold back would be thoroughly screwed? Emphatically YES.

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

*The site I got the turtle size table in Donnie's section is [here], if anyone wants further details on sea turtles.

#Raphael #Leonardo #Donatello #Michelangelo #TMNT #TMNT 2003 #TMNT 2007 #TMNT 2012 #TMNT 2014/2016 #TMNT & Batman #TMNT IDW #meta #this is SO DAMN LONG

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daddypriceugh · 6 months

Text

Useless pt. 2

********************

Here is part 2 I hope you like it :)

@Msdevil333 inspired me

Tw: none

********************

It's been two weeks since you and Simon had your fight. Two weeks since you had last seen him.

Don't get me wrong he did try to talk to you. Quite often. But you never had the heart to answer the calls. The words he said are still ringing in your ears, causing your heart to break even more.

You tried to forget the whole thing by thinking that he was only stressed out from work and didn't mean it. Hell even your best friend said that he didn't.

But that lingering feeling of uncertainty is still there. What if he did mean it? Were you really useless?

You shake your head at those questions, bringing yourself back into reality. You are standing in front of the flat door. Simon's and yours flat.

The key is being crushed by your hand while you're debating on going inside or not.

You let out a sigh, deciding that you should get it over already.

"C'mon it's easy. You go in, get the presents and leave." You tell yourself.

"So easy..."

You unlock the door and step inside. To your suprise there's a delicious smell in the air. Someone is cooking.

You take slow, quiet steps into the bedroom, trying not to get caught. Just as you are halfway to your destination, Simon calls you.

You stop desd in tracks and hear him half running into your direction.

"You're back"

You spin around to meet his smiling figure. He looks good, very good. Damn.

"Yeah...just wanted to grab the rest of the presents"

His smile falters.

"Oh..."

A uncomfortable silence grows betwenn you. None knowing what to say. But then Simon breaks the silence.

"Listen, I want to apologise for what I said. I don't even know why I thought that way. You're not useless at all..."

Your mouth is dry as you listen to him. Your brain is trying to form a sentence but nothing is coming out.

"I understand that you're still mad at me. Hell I would too, but could you pleasd give me a second chance? Please I love you."

Your eyes start to water a bit.

"Simon you really hurt me. I don't know if I can forget about it"

His eyes widen at the sight of tears forming and he steps forward trying to initiate a hug.

"I don't want you to forget it, I just need you to forgive me. I can't live on knowing that I hurt the person which is the most important to me"

Not wanting to feel the upcoming pain, you hug him roughly, clinging to his sweater.

He is taken aback by it for a second but recovers quickly and wraps his arms around you. One is holding your waist and the other combing through your hair.

He gives you a light kiss on your head, breathing in your scent.

"I love you so fucking much darling, so much that it hurts. I- i don't know what was going on with me on that day but seeing you walk out on me brought me back to reality. I knew I couldn't loose you. I'd rather die."

At that statement you look up at him, seeing tears falling down his cheeks. You gently wipe them away and give him a small smile.

"I love you too Simon. I don't think that everything will go back to normal, but I'm willing to give you a second chance. Just don't take it for granted"

You jokingly his biceps at the last part, getting a slight laugh out of him.

"I would never" he says, eyes glistening with hope and happiness.

"Now would you like to have dinner with me? I made Lasagna"

"I would gladly"

At that he takes your right hand in his and interwines your fingers. He takes a last loving look at you, before taking you to the kitchen.

Little did he know that you two found each other again under a mistletoe that was hung up on the roof by him.

It's seems that Christmas really does create peace.

********************

@skulfan1

********************

#ghost x reader #cod x reader #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod fluff

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the-cookie-of-doom · 4 months

Text

Kim and Chay Accidentally Develop A Pony-Play Fetish

So I saw this post:

And I thought to myself, you know what would be really funny?

Chay is the first one. Kim goes okay. I'm willing to work with this. A warning would have been nice. But he's going to power through any awkwardness, swallow his giggles, and ride his ass. And Kim gets into it. Not like, personally, but he's going to make damn fucking sure his boy is satisfied.

Kim is saying some dumb pony-play shit trying to play into what he thinks is Chay's suddenly-revealed fetish, grabs his hair and tells him to neigh, or says he's gonna break him in like the wild stallion he is.

Chay thinks Kim is the freak.

They're both like Okay, This Is A Bit Weird, But If You're Into It.

They're both very supportive boyfriends. Goals, honestly. One drops a buckwild (haha) fetish in the middle of sex? Fuck it! Guess we're doing that, now!

Afterwards goes something like this:

Chay: so you know how we talked about discussing kinks before, like, doing them? Kim, judging him: oh so now you remember? Chay: EXCUSE YOU??? Kim: ME??? Chay: you're the one that started the pony play!! Kim: You said you were a horse!?!?!

Once they figure out the misunderstanding they're going to die. Rolling on the floor laughing, can't breathe, haven't even put their clothes back on yet. Chay is wheezing.

Chay: you told me to neigh! Kim: and you did!!

Kim committed to the bit (haha) so hard. No hesitation. He just fkn went with it. If Absolutely nothing else, that man is RIDE or die.

But then it gets better. This could easily be a one-time occurrence. Something to laugh at later. But then they get kinky another time, Kim brings out a riding crop, and Chay just. Loses it. Then Kim loses it. He can't even defend himself! He's laughing to much to remind Chay that they already owned the damn thing, and he wasn't thinking of That Incident at all!! It takes him at least half an hour to clam down enough to even try fucking, and they're still giggling the whole time.

After that, one of them buys a gag that looks like a bit. Once again, on the floor cry-laughing for at least ten minutes. (But actually it's so much more comfortable than a ball-gag, may as well use it!)

One night Kim is tying Chay up and Chay goes, "Are you gonna lasso me?" grinning like a menace, then honest to god knickers. He's been practicing. He's going to kill Kim.

All that to say- they eventually, accidentally, end up with a full kit of tack, complete with Kim in this outfit:

thank you @snickerdoodlles for not immediately blocking me when I started this nonsense 🤣💛

#cookie speaks #kimchay #im SO sorry #im not into crack #but this got away from me #i was fkn DYING #it's about the devotion!!!#Kim is so ready to whatever insane shit chay throws at him #whatever you want baby lets make it happen #🤣

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sincerelystesichorus · 1 month

Text

me becoming a gortash apologist apparently

i never thought i'd say this. i am thinking about Enver Gortash. i'm usually not one of his apologists but... i've had brain rot for my Durge lately, and i think a big moment of developing your Durge is how you react to meeting Gortash again, yeah? you may or may not be close with Karlach but the party and Durge especially have all faced similar trauma of betrayal and exploitation nonetheless (and so has Gortash), he's already been introduced vaguely at the end of Act 2 as a threat/main villain, he worships Bane, he has general edge lord vibes (remember that bit where I'm usually not a Gortash apologist djdjdjd); what i'm trying to spit out, is there's a lot to sway you against Gortash in that first meeting. and I'd argue even a little further, as someone that followed Orin's plans of betrayal against him in my first Tav run, (just because her audacity is so damn funny.)

But anyway. Meeting Gortash. Finding out you used to be close. Perhaps homoerotically, perhaps in a strange platonic manner, or some other third thing, but nonetheless, Durge is assumably the only person Gortash has ever truly liked. He just really goes out of his way with praise at meeting again, the use of the word favorite is notable, and if Gortash had anyone worth elevating, he would, right? That was how Ketheric got here, Orin wants more credibility for herself and the Bhaalists, and Gortash... just enslaves his parents in their old home/business. But he liked you. He's really so similar to Astarion (it's nothing, you're just the only person I've ever truly cared for); he's just already a touch too far gone in his power hungry search for security. He's already repeated the cycle, years and years ago with Karlach as the main example and just the inevitability of being Bane's Chosen. And yet - Durge comes marching through the door again with this band of misfits and his old lackey he wronged, and he's willing to make a true bargain.

And I know it's just in Gortash's character to scheme, but l think playing as reformed Durge makes Gortash's potential deal all the more devastating, since he will truly follow through on his word (or, at least he would.)

It's so funny to show up dating Astarion or Shadowheart, and imagine them teasing you later that night, saying they thought you'd have better taste. Or the bitterness of being with Karlach, knowing that you seemed to be in such deep kahoots. And so on. The point is not valuing that past relationship with Gortash. Focusing on the shiny and new.

And like whatever. Gortash isn't ever going to publicly present that his feelings are hurt but like... wouldn't they? Your past lover or at the very least, only close friend struts in, now thinking they're some big shot, so beyond everything you two had ever done... when you always lived in their shadow beforehand, frankly. Gortash adores how this flawless plan was majorly Durge's, critiques Orin's sloppy manner of filling your place, how Ketheric was just a means to an end. But he liked you. The person who helped him raid Mephistopheles' vault, in turn helping him spit not only in the arch devil's face, but his past captor, Raphael's too (since Raph lives chronically in the shadow of his father, imo.) The person who thought they could formulate and enact this whole plot, and the only one he was willing to follow, to be an equal with, now coming to tell him what everyone always does, inevitably.

A final fuck you, or some form of betrayal, the same thing that caused his mess all those years ago when sold off to that warlock.

It would have to hurt, and while it's funny to imagine my little gnome Durge dying inside and cackling to the party about sleeping with an enemy and technically being the enemy... a little obssessed at the angst you could perceive of Gortash somehow falling for any crazy Bhaalspawn, nonetheless Durge, who was never one for morals, coming back renewed and not to come get him or work things out... but to slay him or turn against him. I'd send the Steelwatchers after our asses too.

In conclusion, Gortash, probably:

sigh. my bias against greasy little guys could never truly make me hate you, enver gortash. look at you, the man that you are.

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jhoneybees · 25 days

Note

hii! can i request 70s!elvis x reader where elvis fucks up and reader leaves him, but they make up at the end? thank you!!

Oh my gosh I'm so sorry for making you wait for SO long!! I love this idea and got @elvisalltheway101 to help me with this one!! A lot of the credits go to her!🫶

Sorry

Characters: early!70sElvis X Wife!reader

Warnings/triggers: argument, leaving someone, crying

_____________________________________________

It is known that Elvis’ career is slowly… going down the toilet, and as a loving wife, it upsets you as much it upsets him but you’ve only just found out about the news half an hour ago during a sit down with wine from Sonny when he was sloshed out of his mind which you thought was his drunk brain making it up until you turned to ask Elvis, seeing his eyes looking away with a hint of insecurity.

“Why didn’t you tell me, this is happening?” you ask as you toss the headband you were wearing onto the shared bed. Running a hand through your hair as you turn your back to watch Elvis plunge down onto the sunken couch, lazily reaching forward for the TV remote.

Elvis lets out a sigh “It’s not as bad as you think it is, Honey” his words coming out in a mutter.

You frown at his response, scoffing as you walk closer “Not as bad as I think?” stopping in your tracks behind the couch, crossing your arms as you give Elvis a stern look.

“Elvis, you know I’m willing to help..I want to help-”

“I-I don’t wanna worry your pretty little head”

He responds quietly with a small deceivingly enthusiastic smile. Some part of those words are true, he really does appreciate your unconditional help but he thinks that he can handle it himself, his eyebrows lift as he offers his hand for you to hold so you could sink onto the couch with him and cuddle, truthfully wanting to drop the subject, only for him to earn a quirk of an eyebrow from you.

You sigh quietly as you close your eyes for a moment “I’ve helped you with so many things during our 4 years of marriage, Elvis” hearing a muffled thump of his offering hand fall onto the decorative cushions and a small groan, you open your eyes to see him pinching the bridge of his nose.

His voice low, growing more firm “Let’s talk bout somethin’ else, alright?”

You scoff again “This is your career we’re talking about!” you lift your arms in the air, reminding him of what he has worked so hard for “You’ve worked so hard to get all these things you want, the house, the guns, the jewellery, the cars, the fans, you bought your Mama a pink cadillac when you were starting out for God Sake and you’re just letting all of it go down the dra-”

“Enough, Y/n” he warns, rubbing his face with his hands still keeping his eyes trained on the TV.

“It’s-”

“SHUT UP, I’M TRYING MY GODDAMN BEST AND I DON’T NEED YOUR F*CKIN’ HELP”

You flinch terribly and quickly take a few steps back, your frightened filled eyes seeing a sight of Elvis that you have never seen before and a sight that he swore on his own damn grave to not ever show you.

His chest heavily rises and falls as his finger points at you, his face softening as he closes his eyes while dropping his arm to his side. Looking down at the floor as he takes a deep breath “Honey-”

“I’ll pack my things and go then” your voice shaky and weak, breathing in as you turn on your heel. Closing your eyes as you feel his warm hand wrap around your wrist, holding it tightly.

“H-honey, I-I’m sorry, w-w-we can talk this out baby” the sudden frantic tone in his voice pulls at your heartstrings, you know he didn’t mean what he said but it’s best to just let him have his own space to think.

“Let me go…” you say weakly, pulling your wrist out of his grasp as you walk up towards the shared bed, grabbing a suitcase out from the closet in the bathroom to lift it onto the mattress. Brushing Elvis’ hands away from yours “Don’t touch me” tears stinging your eyes.

“Please baby, I-I appreciate your help so much, so much baby- please” his eyebrows furrowing as you throw clothes into the suitcase. Hearing the slightest whimper from his lips as his hands find their way around your waist “Sweetie-”

Pushing his hands away for the last time before buckling the suitcase up, gripping the handle tightly you walk to the door. Opening it with a bit of force, your blurry vision looking back at the dark figure of Elvis following after you “Y/n please…d-don’t go”

You inhale sharply, taking a step forward to place a kiss on his cheek. Your hand applies pressure to his chest as he tries to take the suitcase from your hand “Don’t go, w-we can talk about this” Looking from one eye to the other, you see that fear in his eyes.

“..Bye..Elvis” you whisper.

You know he’s frustrated and stressed and you really can’t comprehend how big the pressure Elvis must be feeling, yes you don’t have to know everything but you get worried.

Maybe you shouldn’t have pushed on the topic.

“Hey Y/n, should I wear red or pink lipstick?” You look over your shoulder, a soft smile on your face as you see your friend holding a lipstick in each hand, You’ve been staying at her house ever since the argument happened, after she asked you how things are going over the phone just expecting a pleasant conversation with you. She was devastated to hear the news and offered to pay for a plane ticket back to Memphis and host you at her house which you reluctantly accepted.

“I think pink would look better” you reply, closing the magazine you were reading and leaving it on the coffee table. Your friend hums “Hm, I thought so too..” lowering her hands as she walks back into the other room.

You sigh quietly, turning your head back down at the magazine you were skimming through. As you skip through a few pages, there’s a knock. A desperate one, it sounds. When your friend raises a brow and glances back at your seat on the couch, “expecting someone?” She asks. You share the same confusion and shake your head. “Oh maybe it’s the make-up set from Europe I told you about! It’s supposed to arrive this week.” She smiles widely while skipping to the front door.

you hear dead silence and feel disappointment in the air. Since being in another room, you don’t know who it is or what it is. “It’s definitely not the European make-up set.” She calls out, and you can just see the unacceptable frown on her face.

“w-who is it?” You say out softly but you already know in your gut who it might be. You hear a scoff and just know there was an eye roll with it, “it’s no one, especially someone not wanted.” she says out, her upper lip curled in attitude as she glares across the man at her doorstep.

Starting to get irritated from being in the unknown, you brush off the chips from your lap and walk among the creaky floorboards to where she is. Your eyes widen at the human being that’s presented.

Of course you expected Elvis, but not in this condition. Standing straight and tense, breathing heavily as he smacks his lips and looks around. He looks exhausted, absolutely exhausted. Gray circles forming from the worry and lonesome upon his tawny flesh that rests tiredly under his eyes. Oh his blue eyes, a gray cloud in those pupils, the pretty sky blue eyes that would mimic the bright, shining and welcoming sun. But now showing a perfect impression of a cloudy day with the sky’s cries of rain. He looks so out of it. Out of himself….all because you were gone for such little time?

His weary eyes then connect to yours and you gasp softly, able to feel the immense pressure on his shoulders from the fear that you were lost. The thought of losing the only person that mattered to him mostly.

“Oh Y/n!” Your name comes out his lips like a prayer of great thanks, and before you know it, you’re being completely engulfed in his arms.

“A-ah’ve been so worried. So goddamned worried about you, A-ah had been searching for you. A-asking every goddamn store in Memphis!” His soft arms squeeze around your shoulders tight, almost as if you’ll wash away from existence and beneath his eyes if he even lets go for air. His faint spicy, floral cologne surrounds and you inhale to your lungs as you flutter your eyes closed.

“I’m so sorry, baby. S-s-so sorry. Hell, I’d get a whopping if my mama caught me talk atcha like that. I’m so sorry y/n. I’ll plead with all my existence, a-all my life I’ll make it up to ya.” He whispers so desperately, and hugs you tighter to his chest.

Your eyebrows furrow and you slowly lift your arms to rub his back gently, letting out a breath you feel like you've been holding onto the entire week, your back sensing your friend has left the room, sick of the love fest but glad you have both made it up and no one’s gonna get hurt.

You smile gently and connect with his eyes once again with a soft smile, “it’s okay Presley,” you giggle softly and you can feel the radiating warmth of relief and love in his eyes.

He heaves out a breath with that shy crooked grin “You're the most important, Honey. I-I don't know what I was thinkin” his slightly shaky hands cupping the sides of your face.

Your smile softens as you do the same, wiping your thumbs near his eyes, seeing the gray skin under his eyes “Elvis…” his calloused hands careful to hold your wrists, he leans into your touch.

“Jesus… I thought I lost you”

#elvis presley #I am so sorry for taking so long!!#elvis #elvis fans #i love him #70s elvis #elvis presley x reader #elvis fandom #elvis imagine #elvis x y/n

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deadpoolsoci3ty · 2 months

Text

so you're the a (alastor x reader) ch 1

(a/n: so i've been posting this on ao3 for about a week and just decided to post on here too now. also i do not have a posting schedule im busy lol sorry)

summary: finding the radio at that thrift store may have completely changed the course of my life, but really i'm not complaining at all.

word count: 1,789

warnings: none i think (let me know if should add some!)

ao3 link

masterlist

Chapter One: thing of beauty

The cold wind of Chicgo bit at my face as I walked the short walk from my apartment to the thrift store. I’m not totally sure what I was going there to look for, but I just needed to get out of my apartment. The walk was pleasant because I’m a college student home at one o’clock in the afternoon on a Tuesday, so the sidewalks are barren. The store finally comes into view, and then I’m walking in. I greet the woman at the register, and immediately book it towards the trinkets in the back. I look through their selection of shot glasses and mugs, not seeing anything that I just had to have. I pace around the back of the store until I see this gorgeous antique radio. A radio would be great for background noise when I’m reading, and plus this was a thing of beauty. I may not have a lot of money, but I knew in my heart whatever price this radio was, it was coming home with me. I rushed over to pick it up so I could find the price, but before my eyes could land on the price tag they first saw a small ‘A’ carved into wood in the corner. Maybe it was like an Andy Toy Story situation, a cute little memory from a previous owner. Then I found the price, a solid $60 which I am truly willing to part with for this beautiful radio.

With an extra pep in my step, I made my way to the register to pay for my lovely new friend. I greeted the employee at the register once again, and she looked somewhat excited that I put the radio on the conveyor belt. “Has this been here long?” I asked because I was confused how someone would pass up this piece of art.

“Longer than me, pretty sure,” she shrugged, “all the employees here have made up our little stories about the history behind it.” She rang me up and the screen prompted me to put my card in, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to get a sweet treat for a week or two but the radio was worth it. “It has been bought before though,” I furrowed my brow because what was wrong with this damn clock? But, to be honest I didn’t care if the radio even worked or not (I was hoping it did though) it was just beautiful. “The people always come back in basically begging us to buy it back, don’t even care for how much. One guy sold it to us for fifty cents one time.”

Now, normally I would not be caught dead with an object that people had been begging to return, and with the way the employee had been describing the situation the radio was definitely scaring the shit out of everybody that purchased it. But, for some reason I needed this radio. A little about me, I’m a textbook snobby english major. I love all things vintage, I think the classics are the greatest works in English literature, and hold a deep detestment for many aspects of modern culture. Yes, I am annoying.

“Mmm, something tells me I’ll be keeping it for the long haul.” I don’t know what possessed me to say something like this, but I’m just gonna go with it. I thank the employee and make my way out of the shop.

The walk home was much less brisk now that I was carrying this heavy radio, but I didn’t think about it much. I was just so excited. My roommate was out filming for some school project so I could fiddle with it when I got home.

After what feels like forever, I see the fence in front of my apartment. I whip out my keys, and put them in the lock of the first door and lock it behind me, while putting the key into the next door which leads to my apartment. I take off my shoes and lock the door. I walk over to the dining room table and put my purse down along with the radio so I can take my coat off. Once coatless, I grab the radio and set it down on the coffee table in front of the couch. I mess with the knobs and dials until I hear a crackle. “Yes!” I yelled, as I began switching through the stations, most of the stations I knew from the radio in my car were entirely static. After a couple of minutes I heard someone speaking, the voice was filtered through what sounded like a microphone from the early days of audio.

“Hello dearie!~” the strange voice spoke, I assumed it was a prerecorded file a station was playing. Like a radio version of the history channel. So, of course I didn’t speak back to the radio. Then, the voice came back, “I said…” a loud static started to emanate from the speaker, “Hello!”

My first thought was ‘fuck me, if this is a demon in here, I’m definitely going to fall for one of his traps’ I had just though about this a couple days ago, I want things! Sue me! And I’m not fucking with you two days ago I had been thinking about this shit and now here I am. Welp, I’m fucked, but still I carry on. And now I was sure I had completely lost my mind, so since that had already happened and I was obviously in the middle of an episode of psychosis, I decided to reply, “Oh! Umm I didn’t think you were speaking to me. My apologies!” Whoever this person who was speaking was, I definitely did NOT want him to be upset with me.

“Oh dear, oh dear! Far in the past now! You’ve got my radio!” I could tell whoever was speaking was smiling, I could hear in their voice.

“This is yours? It’s gorgeous, I can assume you’re the ‘A’ on the bottom of it.” I could have asked so many questions, but I went with this one. I’m not totally sure why, but I really want to know more about the strange voice.

“Alastor! That’s my name, sweetheart!” He seemed excited to introduce himself, and honestly I was just as excited as him.

“Hello Alastor! My name is Y/N! It’s nice to meet you! Where do you live, Alastor? I found the radio in Chicago!” Why was I telling this strange voice over a creepy radio where I live.

“Oh when I was alive, my home was New Orleans. Absolutely fantastic! It made it all the way to the Windy City!” My heart froze after his fifth word, hair standing up, goose pimples all over my skin, and a shock through my spine. When he was alive??? What the fuck does that mean? He’s definitely a demon, yep fuck me.

“Just to clarify, you did just say ‘when you were alive’ right? That wasn’t me hearing things, right?” I was hyperventilating out of my damn mind. I absolutely understood now why people had returned this freaky fucking radio

“Oh yes, of course, dear! I’m coming to you straight from Hell.” The way he said it like it was the most casual thing ever, had me feeling like I was overreacting to what he was saying.

“And you’re not messing with me?” After it came out of my mouth I heard him clench his teeth.

“Oh, now what is your impression of me that says I would do that to you?” He seems frustrated with my question, and that did not sit right with me. I was quick to appease him.

“No, no, no, I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant by that, I promise!” I try to stop myself from spilling my guts to this man who I believe might be a demon, because the voice in my head was telling me giving personal information to a demon was probably not the best decision I could make, but I just couldn’t stop myself. “It’s just I never believed in an afterlife or a religion, so it’s just that you have just told me that hell is real and that is absolutely insane to me because now I’m terrified hell is horrible. Is it horrible? I mean I guess that’s the point?” I took a deep breath before I continued my word vomiting, but before I got the chance, Alastor began speaking again.

“Sweet girl~ please stop with the yammering…” His voice seemed like nectar to me, I could listen to him speak all day, “before we continue with our little back and forth, I am going to need to know what I’m getting out of this?” I immediately started thinking about the things I could offer him, not my soul. Wasn’t there just yet.

“What could you possibly want from me?” This was the most genuine question I had asked in a long time, I had absolutely nothing to offer him. I had money for groceries, rent, and utilities. Most of my possessions were books, he was in hell what use could he have for anything I could give him.

“I just adore your voice, little deer!” He was back to being his chirpy self, and it rubbed off on me making me feel a little calmer. “I’m sure you would love to continue our little chats, and in return I’d just like for you to read to me, from a book of your choosing of course.” I was trying not to let off how excited I was, I wanted him to feel like he was getting more out of this than he was. “I’m trusting you have immaculate taste, but give a couple of your favorites just so I can tell.”

After a few quick beats I respond with, “My favorite book of all time is Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte, I’m a big fan of the classics, nineteenth century literature.”

“Oh how swell!” he seemed like he was buzzing with glee, “A beautiful voice with even better taste!” He seemed to chuckle to himself and as his laugh faded out his voice came back, “Well, dearest, I’m afraid I must be going for now! I’ll excuse your payment for today, but be ready for next time, my dear,” I took a deep breath at the thought of a next time, “When you want to contact me again, just tune back into this station, I’ll be able to tell. I won’t always be able to talk, but when I can I’ll be there in a jiffy!”

Before I could respond to him the static that accompanied his voice faded and it eventually became silent in my apartment once again. I released the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, and leaned back into my couch.

(a/n: i've written five chapters so far i'll be posting the other four asap)

#alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor fic #hazbin fic #hazbin hotel fic

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