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bloompompom · 11 months

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Safekeeping

Your brother's best friend learns you don't want to leave for college a virgin, and he thinks he might be able to lend you a hand.

✧ content: ~9.2k word count. 20 y/o eren jaeger x 18 y/o female reader. shameless porn without plot, older brother's friend trope, inexperienced reader/virginity loss, praise, spit, corruption themes, dry humping, guided masturbation, oral sex (f!receiving), protected PIV sex, reader's brother has a name, pet name ('baby'), passing mentions of alcohol/marijuana, explicit sexual content, explicit language, reader discretion advised. 18+ only. ✧ a/n: virginity is a social construct but this is smut so i’m gonna play into it. enjoy ♡ ✧ part two

You planned to move away to college at the end of the summer, finally. Your school of choice was a three-hour drive from home. To you, it was the perfect distance. Just far enough to give you some much-needed space, but still within reason for a weekend visit if needed. You wouldn’t know anyone there, but that was what you were looking forward to the most, actually. It would be a fresh start.

You never did get the ‘fresh start’ that everyone talked about. You know, the new beginnings that came with every school year. You always tried to be optimistic about it but each time, without fail, your teachers scowled when they saw your last name on their rosters. They all knew your older brother Collin—very well, unfortunately.

His reputation preceded you as a punk who was sent to the principal’s office for acting out in class time and time again. Out of the classroom, too—in the hallways, on the football field after hours. Even in the parking lot when he got into a fender bender with his English teacher his senior year. You were cursed with the same teacher last semester and learned the hard way that she had a habit of holding grudges.

But that was beside the point. What you were trying to say was: you were ready for college. More than ready. Giddy and practically vibrating with excitement, marking the days off on your calendar until move-in week. Until you could finally quit your lousy summer job at the ice cream shop, waiting on old folk that never knew what they wanted and didn’t bother tipping.

Still, there was just one teensy little thing you were hoping to get out of the way before freshman year. But now that it was only a few weeks away—twenty-three days, but who’s counting?—it was starting to feel more like a pipe dream.

At the end of the day, there was no point throwing a tizzy over going to college a virgin. Surely, you wouldn’t be the only one.

Right?

Your parents had left for their annual end-of-summer trip down to the beach to visit your grandparents for a week. It used to be a family event, but now that you and Collin were deemed old enough, you had more say in whether you tagged along or not.

Collin had skipped out the last two summers, but this was the first year you were allowed to stay home, too, now that you were eighteen. But what you didn’t expect was that his three best friends would be there with the two of you—for the better half of the week, at that. Apparently, since they had done it the last two years, it had become a tradition, as they put it. Honestly, you were just impressed Collin was able to pull it off without your parents catching on, considering he was never one to clean the house when you were kids.

No matter, though; it didn’t bother you much. They had been your brother’s friends since they were in the eighth grade. Having them around was nothing new to you. Of course, it was more fun when you were younger—back when you could play Mario Party together and force Collin to sit out. Now, there wasn’t nearly as much in common besides the occasional tormenting of your brother.

So, the four of them did their thing, and you did yours.

But therein lies the problem. Even while you minded your business, someone just couldn’t seem to mind theirs. He couldn’t prevent his thoughts from wandering back to you—couldn’t prevent his eyes from lingering longer than they should.

It wasn’t Armin. He would never dare to look at you that way, the girl he tutored in algebra. Nor was it Jean, hopelessly consumed with texting his classmate, still determined as ever to win her over.

No, it was Eren. 'The cute one,’ as coined by you and your friends once he hit his growth spurt and grew out his hair. Though Eren was unaware of the epithet, this would be the year he’d unknowingly return the sentiment, thinking of you as Collin's very cute sister.

Eren was gone last summer, away at an internship, so it had been a couple of years since he’d last seen you. And you appeared to have—ahem—really grown into yourself, to put it delicately.

Listen, it was harmless. It wasn’t like Eren planned on feeling this way toward you. He didn’t think twice about it when Collin said you’d be at his place, too. And there was no way in hell he’d act on it. He wouldn’t even dare to let the thoughts hang around in his mind, consistently shoving them aside before they could permeate. You were Collin’s—his best friend’s—sister. More than that, you were his little sister!

He thought he was being discreet about it, but man, did you have to make it so tough? Did you really need to lay out by your parents’ pool every single day? Jeez. As a matter of fact, when was the last time it rained? This had to be the longest they’d been without it, now that Eren was thinking about it.

Back to the point here: Eren was, in fact, not remotely discreet. Armin brought it to his attention as they went to grab another beer. You happened to pop into the kitchen at the same time, just to grab a snack, and damn it, why did you have next to nothing on? Like, yeah, the place was a little warm tonight, and it was your house and all, but seriously—tiny shorts rolled high on your waist and a tank top that looked extra clingy as you reached for a cup on the top shelf? Really?

“You can’t be serious,” Armin grumbled to Eren. Once you were gone, obviously.

Eren should have known what Armin was referencing, but he was dumb to it, wholly convinced he had been treading carefully. “What do you—”

“You can’t bang Collin’s sister!”

Who even says ‘bang’ anymore?

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on a second.” Eren innocently held his palms up, waving them as if he could shake off the wicked accusation. “That’s a little far now, isn’t it?”

Armin was getting ahead of himself again; even Eren hadn’t let his mind wander past that boundary… yet.

Armin gave him a look, like he knew better than to take Eren’s word at face value. “Well, it sure looks like you’re trying to bang his sister.”

“Who’s trying to bang who’s sister?”

Both Eren and Armin jumped at the voice, heads spinning like they were on a swivel to find Collin. He emerged from the basement, Jean trailing behind with a suspicious, low-browed expression.

“Oh,” Eren stammered. He had to come up with something fast because he wasn’t about to leave it to Armin, the notoriously awful liar. “Armin was just telling me about some porn he watched the other night.” Eren shrugged. “You know, where the guy tries to bang someone’s sister.”

Armin glared at Eren for throwing him under the bus but reluctantly went along with the lie. “Yeah, and then he, uh… bangs the sister?”

Idiot, Eren couldn’t help but think. Whatever, it seemed to work well enough. Collin stared back at them like they were no better than a couple of horny morons. Jean dismissed it, too. Or at least, it didn’t bother him enough to let it interfere with him going for another beer.

With the crisis only half-averted, the four returned to the basement with freshly-cracked cans of beer in tow, where they would spend the rest of the night playing video games until they eventually passed out.

Well, at least three of them did.

Eren couldn’t sleep, but that wasn’t anything new. He battled with insomnia from time to time. Tossing and turning on a wobbly air mattress didn’t make it any easier to fall asleep, and with the basement only marginally cooler than the rest of the house, he thought he might as well get a glass of water.

Unluckily (luckily?) for him, he was interrupted before he could do just that. The sight of you, simply existing, lounged up on the couch, startled him.

Someone’s jumpy tonight. You giggled when he cursed. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“What are you doing here?” Eren asked.

You lightheartedly taunted, “Last time I checked, I live here, don’t I?”

He made a face at you, lacking the amusement your voice carried. “You know what I meant. Why are you still awake?”

It was the first time Eren had bumped into you. Not the first time ever, obviously; you had been alone together on countless occasions. But this was different, never this late at night before, and it was the only time it’d been just the two of you since he’d thought about you like that.

“Do I need a reason?” you airly replied, almost on a yawn as you stretched. “It’s summer break, and I don’t have work tomorrow.”

He didn’t offer more than a nod of acknowledgment before moseying across the room, his hands shoved into his pockets. Unsure of where this was going, you reached for the remote and paused your show.

“What are you guys doing down there?”

“They’re all asleep,” Eren answered. He stood idly in the middle of the room because, like you, he was curious as to where this was heading.

“And you’re not asleep because…?”

No, he couldn’t think like that. This was going nowhere.

“I came to grab some water,” he hurried to say—or at least, you thought it sounded hurried—and disappeared into the kitchen right after.

You listened for a moment, fingers dancing on the button of the remote as you debated starting your show again. But when the faucet flicked off, he didn’t return to the basement in the apparent rush he was in. Instead, he stayed there, with you.

Eren sipped his water, thinking of what to say next. It was an uphill battle because there wasn’t anything to say. There was no reason he needed to start a conversation with you. And yet, there he was, leaned up against the wall, dumbly scratching at his midriff as he racked—

Wait. Were you checking him out?

If there was one thing Eren had learned at college—let’s be real here, he had a nasty habit of skipping class—it was that he did pretty well for himself when it came to girls. Decent enough, he’d say. He at least had enough sense to know when a chick was interested in him. And now that you had creaked that door open, ogled at where his hand had lifted his shirt to reveal his stomach, he didn’t really have another choice but to step inside and explore around. Just a bit.

Armin’s warning blared in the back of Eren’s head. As luck would have it, his conscience tended to have Armin’s voice. But there wasn’t anything wrong with casual conversation, was there? After all, he had known you for years.

“So, are you excited to leave for college soon?”

Nope. There was no turning back now.

You perked up in your seat. “Yeah, for sure. It’ll be nice to go somewhere new. Meet new people, make new friends—”

“Maybe you’ll finally find your Fabio.”

There was a joke there, unfortunately. One you hadn’t heard in so long that you cringed at the memory.

As Collin’s sister, his friends were first-hand witnesses to your boy crazy phase, all your dating flops. Perhaps they had even learned you were quite the hopeless romantic. And by that, you meant Jean had found a smutty novel you had stolen from your mom—yes, it even had the signature Fabio-esque cover, hence the joke. Anyway, he read it aloud in front of your brother and the rest of their friends until Armin snatched the book from him, which somehow made the whole ordeal even worse.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” you offhandedly chuckled. “I was sort of hoping that would happen before college, but you know—I’m sure plenty of people go to college inexperienced.”

Your voice trailed off there at the end, almost like the notion really bothered you. Eren scrutinized it, this thing you handed him. It was a conversational game of hot potato—something you had shoved his way and forced him to hold onto. Why were you bringing this up? Were you looking for his advice?

Eren set down his glass and moved to sit by you on the couch. The far side of it. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

“No,” you blurted out, embarrassed and kicking yourself for having said anything in the first place. But your abruptness sounded just as bad, so with a sigh, you said, “I mean, I guess. I don’t want people to think I’m a loser for being a virgin.”

Again, why were you mentioning this to him? Eren felt like he was playing with fire. He knew he was going to wind up burnt the longer he stayed, maybe even scorching everything around him, even you, in the process.

Still, he poked it, added some kindling because he was unwilling to let it die out. “I think there’s a fairly simple solution to that.”

“What, getting laid? I think I know that,” you scoffed. “And it’s easy for you to say that, looking like—” You loosely waved your hand over the length of him. “You. Believe it or not, I don’t exactly have suitors lining up outside my door.”

Okay, so he was picking up on something here. He wasn’t crazy. You said it then: you found him attractive. And he found you attractive. Extremely so, if that wasn’t obvious already. The answer was easy enough; he might as well go on say it outright then.

“What if I did it?” Eren suggested.

You didn’t know what he meant by it, his casualness throwing you for a loop. Surely, he couldn’t be talking about that.

“You know, took your virginity.”

Oh. There was no mistaking it now. He was, without a doubt, talking about that.

And why were you considering it?

Your brother’s friends, Eren included, had taught you all sorts of things before, things they probably shouldn’t have. They told you to flush the toilet to mask your squeaky front door if you planned on sneaking out. Taught you how to roll a joint, and how to take a proper hit after you confessed you had never ‘felt high’ when you smoked. So, would this be any different?

While you mulled it over, Eren took the far-away look behind your eyes as a horrible sign. He realized how insane the proposition sounded once he spoke it into existence. Before he could take it back, play it off as a joke—he had one too many beers, that’s all—you piped up.

“Really?”

He certainly didn’t expect that, stammering, “I—yeah. Why not?”

Another lengthy pause passed before you accused, “Are you just fucking with me?”

“No, no! I wouldn’t.” He started rambling then, a jumbled mix of ‘I just—’ and ‘I shouldn’t have—’ until you decidedly cut him off.

“Okay.”

“Huh?”

“I said okay. You can… take my virginity.” It felt like a strange way to say it, too formal. And to say it to Eren of all people, who would have guessed it?

Then again, maybe this was the most logical outcome. It wasn’t like you needed to make a big deal of losing your virginity. You weren’t looking for something romantic, with rose petals or a waterbed or any of that corny-porny crap. You were just looking to get it out of the way. That way, when you inevitably meet the love of your life in college (okay, so maybe you were a hopeless romantic), you wouldn’t embarrass yourself the first time you hooked up.

“Okay,” Eren replied on his inhale, a breath sucked through his teeth, like it was a sin to say aloud.

He scooted closer, sitting on the cushion that once separated you. You expected him to kiss you, even leaning into him with closed eyes, but your lips barely brushed into his. He didn’t come any closer than that.

Lowly, he asked you, “Do you trust me?”

You nodded. Your noses bumped.

“I need to hear it.”

“I trust you,” you said, even quieter than him. You could barely hear it over the sound of your heart, thumping so hard you swore it might burst into your throat.

Eren kissed you then, tentatively, with his hand cradling the side of your face. He didn’t move until you did, and when you returned the kiss, he followed while letting you take lead.

It didn’t last long, though. You jumped away from each other, back to the opposite sides of the couch, when the basement door squeaked open. The panic subsided when you caught the bright eyes of your family’s cat, her little head poking out from the shadows.

You held a hand to your chest, steadying your breath and trying to settle your rapid heartbeat, as if both were possible. When you met Eren’s gaze, he was already staring at you with a brittle sort of look. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Did he regret what he had done with you? You didn’t, and you prayed he didn’t either.

Before you had the chance to ask, he finally said, “Should we go to your room?”

“Good idea.”

He knew where your room was, but still, he followed right behind you anyway. At the top of the staircase, just before your bedroom door, you split. You turned to see Eren sneaking into Collin’s room. A minute passed while you listened to his rustling, but when he returned, held between his two fingers was that infamous, shiny foil.

You frowned, hard. “I’m not going to use one of my brother’s condoms.”

“Do you have one then?” Eren asked, already well aware of your answer.

“Fine.”

Eren had never been in your bedroom before. It felt foreign, and weirdly wrong, to have him in there. He looked out of place for it, too big, too mature, especially as you looked at all your girlish knick-knacks and old photos. You wished you could tuck everything away into some lonely drawer.

You avoided Eren’s eyes and fixed your attention on adjusting the lights. Your bright ceiling light was far too unforgiving for this, so you switched it out for your bedside lamp. The drone of the old bulb buzzed in the back of your ears, its light a fizzy yellow.

You were nervous. Eren didn’t need to see your face to know it was written all across it. Not that it surprised him, considering this was about to be your first time having sex, and it would be with him.

He felt his heart drop into his stomach, the sick feeling you get on a rollercoaster, but somehow you want to ride again. Maybe he was just as nervous as you. You had put your trust in him, enough to take your virginity. Handing it to him as if it were some sentimental treasure he could watch over, for safekeeping.

Sure, he knew the optics were bad. Not just bad but horrendous, actually. He was about to sleep with his best friend’s younger sister, a recently eighteen-year-old virgin. The whole situation sounded no better than a second-rate porno—like the one he had made up with Armin in the kitchen, ha!

This was as much a blessing straight from heaven as it was a curse. But he couldn’t care about the optics now, not with you taking a seat on the bed, looking over at him with these come-and-get-me eyes that may or may not have been intentional.

No, this wasn’t a curse at all. If it were so wrong of him, then why was it that he already felt his cock straining against his sweats at the mere thought? The thought of how delicate he’d be with you. He needed to be, for the last thing he wanted was to ruin your first time. He’d be the first to show you what pleasure could be with another person—what you were deserving of before going off and letting other boys touch you.

He set the condom on the nightstand and joined you at the edge of your bed, his knee barely grazing yours. He was about to ask if he could kiss you again, but you entirely side-skipped any conversation by picking up right where the two of you had left off.

Again, Eren relinquished control to you, but he did take the initiative to swipe his tongue into your mouth. You tasted him, the bittersweet flavor of light beer. He was nothing like the last boy you kissed. He didn’t ram his tongue down your throat but kissed you as though he wanted to taste you, to muse over and memorize you. And you let him, lips languidly caressing one another with little point or purpose, solely running on instinct.

You balled his shirt in your fist, twisted the fabric of it between your hands to have him close—closer. He hoisted you onto his lap with his hands at your waist, and you went along with him more than willing. You draped your hands over his shoulders, crossing them at the wrist, and didn’t let your lips break from his once.

He smoothed his palms up and down the small of your back until he eventually ventured lower. He gripped at your ass, pulling you down to grind over him. Just once, so you could feel him, how achingly hard he was for you. Then, you did it again all on your own. Lightheaded and teeming with desire, the pressure against your clit, even through your layers of clothing, was an addicting relief. You moved against him, again and again, until you were dragging yourself over him, practically about get off from that alone.

But Eren didn’t let that happen. Before you get there, Eren used his hold on your hips to stall you. His voice was a mumble against your mouth as he asked you, “How far have you gone?”

“This,” you professed. “This is the farthest I’ve gone.”

Fuck.

“Okay.” It was the word of the night. Eren breathed it out like he was talking to himself. The type of sigh you’d give yourself in the mirror when trying to calm down, which was precisely his goal.

He lifted you with little effort, had you lie back into the pillows before he crawled on top of you. He kissed at your jawline, then placed another on the side of your neck. He left a few of them there. It was all lip, all wispy, like he could break you. Still, you felt each of them like a spark at the base of your spine.

His fingers trailed lower, tickling over your collarbone but stopping short of the neckline of your tank top.

“Is it all right if I touch you here?” he asked, punctuating it by running a hand down your breast, over your shirt.

“Yes,” you whispered with a shudder.

With the confirmation, he massaged lightly, his thumb caressing over your perked nipple.

He kissed you again, his tongue meeting yours while he rolled your nipple between his fingers. Your back arched instinctively, wanting more—needing more. He listened to your body, learning as he went, and tugged down your tank top. With nothing between you, he lightly pinched at your nipple, pulling a whine from you, one that didn’t get the chance to meet the air.

Eren kissed the side of your face. “Can I kiss you there?” he muttered, referencing your tits as he gave another squeeze. He pressed another kiss, lower, against your throat.

“Mhm,” was all you managed with a voice that was long gone, lost somewhere in the opened-mouth kisses he left along the dip between your chest.

It tickled a bit when he flicked over your nipple with his tongue—even more when he latched onto it with his mouth. You were wiggly beneath him, driving him wild, and you didn’t even know it. It was sweet how sensitive you were, his mouth being the first to kiss you there, to learn the taste of your skin. So soft. And warm, too, heating up the longer he sucked at your tits, anywhere he pleased.

Eren kept his hand at your waist, palming over your stomach but never risking any lower than that. His touch was heated, urgent, yet he only showed restraint.

He pulled back from you, letting his face hover inches above yours when he asked, “Have you ever touched yourself before?”

He was strangely calm for asking such a personal question, setting your face ablaze. Too rushed, you replied, “Of course I have.”

What did he think? That because you were a virgin, you hadn’t thought about sex before? Hadn’t ever watched porn? Yes, you hadn’t actually done it, but it wasn’t as though you were heading into the situation blind.

“Then—” You, the sight of you wriggling out of your sleep shorts, interrupted him. You caught the bob of his throat when he swallowed, but you weren’t sure he was trying that hard to hide it. “Show me how you do it.”

Eren sat back on his knees, just shy of sitting between your legs as you rested against the pillows. The only thing separating him from you was a thin pair of panties. You hoped he didn’t notice your jittery fingers as you slipped them beneath the band.

You started, “This is—”

“It’s not embarrassing,” he interrupted. It only made you more anxious, like he could read your mind or something. But he was genuine as he said it, assuring you even while struggling to maintain eye contact, his attention flitting from your face to between your legs. “Show me how I can make you come.”

How could he possibly be so open about this? There wasn’t even a shred of hesitation or shame in his voice. You wondered how many people he’d been with—how many times he’d rehearsed before he could speak with such confidence? Enough confidence to have you listening loyally and plunging your hand beneath your underwear.

You pressed the pads of your fingers against your clit and started to rub. Slowly at first, but already, just that smidgen of relief was enough to pull a flimsy sound from you. You were sensitive, throbbing, and so incredibly turned on that you didn’t hide even as he unabashedly stared at you with pure infatuation.

Eren rested a hand on your leg, sliding higher and reaching for your panties. “Can I take these off?”

You stopped only to help him work them down your leg, shimmying until he had them thrown to the foot of the bed. You were hesitant to spread your legs again, but he did it for you, placing one at each of his sides. He took your hand and returned it between your thighs, eager for you to continue. So you did just that.

There wasn’t any doubt he could see everything now—how wet you were, how it coated your fingers the longer you rubbed, the tighter your little circles became. But you were too wrapped up in it to care, playing with yourself just as indecently as you would if you were alone. You couldn’t even be bothered to stifle the chant of gasps spilling from you.

“Can you put a finger inside for me?” Eren requested.

You nodded and pushed one inside, felt how you pulsed around it. You moved it in and out, the same way you had done many times before.

“Yeah, like that,” he murmured. You heard the ‘fuck’ he cursed under his breath. “How’s that feel?”

“Good,” you whispered, eyes fluttering shut.

“Try a little faster.”

You did just that and bit back a whimper.

“Add another.”

He needed you stretched. He needed you ready for him.

You took your second finger well; you had done that before, too.

“You’re doing so good,” he told you. He leaned into you, closing in. “Can I help you now?”

“Please,” you breathed. You slipped your fingers from you, giving Eren access to do with you as he wished.

But he didn’t reach for you. Not there, at least. He held his fingers before your mouth.

“Open up.”

You weren’t sure what he was after, but you obeyed, lusty enough that you found you were trusting him implicitly. He placed his middle and index fingers against your tongue, telling you, “Get them nice and wet for me.”

You sucked on them lightly. Saliva pooled on the back of your tongue as he pressed down. He pulled them from your mouth with a lewd sound and smiled at you. It made your chest swell a bit.

Eren returned to your side. His presence was engulfing as he wrapped an arm around you, holding you close. It surprised you, the intimacy of it, but you didn’t have any time for second-guessing before he urged, “Keep going.”

You returned to circling your clit as his hand met yours. He traced his pointer finger through you, and every muscle in your body tensed.

“Can I?”

“Yes,” you said, practically a moan.

He slipped it inside you, taking his time with it. His finger was much larger than your own, thicker, reaching deeper than yours had ever gone. Your stomach tightened at the intrusion, trying to adjust.

“That okay?” he asked.

“Yes.” It was better than okay. “More. Please.”

Eren chuckled warmly. He pumped his finger in and out of you, curving it just right to have you squirming in his arms. You were beginning to understand why he was holding you now. He wanted to keep you still so that, once he figured out what you liked, he could maintain his pace through your needy bucking.

He had a hand on your head, petting over you as he asked, “You close?” You couldn’t respond because he added a second finger. A hiss left you, but it melted into a satisfied whine. “Yeah?”

“Y-yeah,” you whispered against him, his body dizzyingly hot even through his T-shirt.

It was becoming quite the task to keep your fingers moving, what with Eren’s fingers hitting a spot that you didn’t even know existed, over and over again. It had you—fuck—it had you coming. So hard that you thoughtlessly rode his hand, eyes screwing shut as you fucked yourself deeper on his fingers, prolonging the bliss however you could until you turned to goo in his arms.

You were panting against his chest, your body still twitchy, when he started to ask, “Did you—”

“Yes,” you said on a drawn-out exhale.

He pecked your forehead. You still felt the stamp of it as he moved to get back on top. He held himself above you with hands planted on either side of you, kissing you full on the mouth. Still hazy, you didn’t move much, letting him make out with you all he wanted until his lips traveled down to the dip behind your ear, then the delicate crook of your neck.

He bunched your tank higher up your chest until you both tore it over your head. With it out of his way, Eren continued kissing lower—even lower than before. His breath tickled over your nipples, leaving you a needy, rutting mess—for what exactly, you didn’t know, just more.

“Too much?” Eren asked, looking up at you with his big, green eyes.

“No,” you assured, your mouth agape and in awe of him. “I like it.”

He pressed his smile against your skin, kissing and licking his way down your sternum.

When he reached your navel, you asked, “What are you—”

“Making sure you’re ready.” He kissed your hipbone.

“It’s really okay,” you said, slightly wary. “We should just get this over with, right?”

“What if I don’t want to get this over with?” Eren kissed just above your slit. “What if I want to take my time?”

Eren wanted you as comfortable—as relaxed—as possible. And since he was already about to fuck his friend’s younger sister, with one of his condoms nonetheless, he certainly wasn’t going to dig around for his friend’s lube next. Luckily, there was another, more fun, way that he could ensure you were properly lubricated so as to avoid any pain that may arise from him splitting you on his—

Focus.

“I need you to tell me what feels good and what doesn’t,” Eren said, a reminder more to himself than for you.

You gasped, almost choked, when he kissed the top of your thigh, then the inner part of it.

“Can you do that for me?”

“Eren, I—”

“Please.” He licked a broad stripe up the crease of your thigh. That alone had your head thrown back against your pillow, a tiny ‘oh’ escaping you. “Let me. I want to.”

“You do?” you timidly asked.

“So badly,” he replied, but it sounded more like an admission. A white flag of surrender, like he was letting himself fully give in to his desires because, yes, he had thought about this before. There was no use in lying about it now.

“O-okay.”

On that, he returned to teasing his way between your legs, kissing from the delicate flesh of your inner thighs to—

“Wait!” you interjected. Eren immediately looked to you like he had done something wrong, but you quelled his worry with, “Can you get undressed, too? Like, at least your shirt.”

Your request didn’t sound nearly as self-assured as his, but he listened to you nonetheless. He sat back to peel off his shirt. He smiled at you softly. “Better?”

You scanned over his toned torso, sun-kissed and tanned from summer. Definitely better. “Thanks.”

He leaned over you, his mouth inches from your pussy as he murmured, “It’ll feel good.” Then he kissed your entrance, and the sensation of it jolted through your body like lightning. “Promise.”

Eren parted you with his fingers before licking through you, letting the newfound feeling sink in deep. His tongue was warm, wet, and exceedingly gentle—nothing like his fingers or even your own. You couldn’t begin to describe it, but that might be because, after a second lap of his tongue, you were already losing any and all coherency.

You made a few strained sounds, flowery and pathetic, but supported yourself on trembling elbows to watch. When you met Eren’s eyes, he only stopped licking at you to say, “Tell me what feels good.”

“Everything.” The word tumbled out of your mouth desperately. “Everything feels good.”

You felt his laugh just before he closed his mouth back over you. He continued having his way with you, sucking and licking at you, saliva and slick making a mess of his pretty face as he staggered kisses between his laps. Whenever his lips brushed against your clit, your legs would flex tight. He hooked his arms around them, laying them over his strong shoulders. You felt the way his fingers dug into the fat of your thighs, locking them in place while he circled his lips around your clit with more pressure than before.

“Ah—oh,” you moaned, your back leaving the bed to press your pussy further into his face, as if you could have him any closer—you know, until you’d have him inside you. But that would come soon enough.

Eren didn’t ask this time; he knew exactly how he was making you feel. And you were thankful for it because you couldn’t dream of him stopping. You needed more, lacing a hand through his locks and pulling lightly, encouraging him. He groaned against you, clearly liking it, so you did it again.

He was sloppy with it while still… thoughtful? That didn’t feel like the correct word for it, but even as he made out with the most intimate part of you, he did it with intention, doing that thing again, whatever it was, with his tongue pointed, because he had quickly learned you liked it. No, he showed you that you liked it. Loved it, actually; it was excruciatingly evident by the breathless sounds you made.

And when Eren paired his tongue with his sucking lips, swirling it against your clit, you came with your own hand clamped over your mouth. Your entire body gained a pulse of its own. It was much stronger than your first orgasm and longer-lasting, too. The muscles of your stomach wound and released while you rode out your high, Eren groaning against you just as pleasedly.

Only once you were no longer propped on your elbows but flopped against the bed did Eren let up. Your thighs were still trembling as he kissed a pathway back to your side. You both sat with heaving chests, though yours much heavier than his, and you were beginning to question how you were supposed to go for another round. You hadn’t even reached the—for lack of a better word—main event yet. Truthfully, you expected Eren to throw you to your bed, pop your metaphorical cherry, and be done with it. But now you had already orgasmed twice and he still had his sweatpants on.

You should probably do something about that, shouldn’t you?

“I wanna touch you, too.”

While innocent, it was the most you had communicated with him this far, so he didn’t stop you when you reached for him. He was more than ready for it.

You explored him a bit, tracing over his length and discovering what touches made him twitch beneath your touch, still as chaste as ever.

“Show me,” you purred.

It wasn’t that you didn’t know what to do—a hand job was far from rocket science. It was more like if you had to show him yours, then you wanted to see his. You wanted to watch.

Eren tugged his sweatpants and boxers down his legs. His cock sprung out, nearly slapping against the low part of his abs. Already, his tip was wetted, needy for anything after going untouched this long, even if it was his own hand.

He wrapped his fingers around his shaft, working his fist over his cock, faster, until he was jerking himself off for you. His breath, fanning just above your head, went from steady to ragged, his chest tight.

You watched him for a moment, already needing to touch him. You pushed yourself upright, perched so that your knees brushed against his thigh, ready to take him with both hands.

“Hold on.”

You glanced at him. He fidgeted, like he was about to say something but retracted it immediately. He sounded hesitant, looked even more hesitant, when he asked, “Can you—can you spit in your hand first?”

“Oh, um.” You looked at your open palm and tried your best to collect some saliva in your mouth. It was a little daunting, knowing he was watching as you did it, but he didn’t seem to mind.

No, he definitely didn’t mind. Not in the slightest. But he wouldn’t admit that to you right now.

You took him in your hand, mimicking how he did it, with a loose wrist and your grasp slightly firm. When you squeezed over his tip, you heard the sharp inhale it pulled from him, noted how his pelvis flexed. Eren’s hand closed over yours. He was going to show you exactly how he liked it.

Eren moved your hand for you, gripping it whenever you reached the head of his cock. His pinched breaths turned into groans, his brows hanging low over his keen eyes. That was when he started thrusting, fucking your hand, and nearly forgot where he was—forgot whose hand he was using like his own personal toy.

“Spit on it,” he grunted, that temperate side of him growing unrestrained.

He didn’t mean to come off so crass, not in front of you, not this soon. It was just that Eren couldn’t remember the last time he came from a handjob, but he was nearly there, with your hands so dainty and velvety around him. Not to mention the spit dribbling from your pretty lips before you spread it down his cock—he was about to lose his last smidgen of composure.

Thankfully, he remembered the reason why he was here. He had a much bigger agenda than fucking your hand. How could he have forgotten already that he was here for you?

“That’s—ah, shit.” Selfishly, Eren waited for another second before releasing your hand. You continued stroking him eagerly, and it felt wrong to stop you, but he did just that with his hand around your forearm. “You’re gonna make me come if you keep going.”

“Sorry,” you said, your hands now politely to yourself and folded on your lap.

With a short, huffing laugh, he told you, “You do not have to apologize for that. Believe me.”

His chuckle had you smiling again. That closed-mouth, coy smile that he was quickly learning might become the death of him. He straightened out, taking your chin between his fingers to kiss you again.

“Lay back for me,” he whispered.

You fell into the mess of pillows and tangled sheets, making yourself comfortable while Eren fetched the condom. You didn’t know what the feeling was—trepidation, anticipation, excitement, perhaps all three—but it bubbled in your stomach as you watched him rip the wrapper before rolling on the latex.

He pumped himself a few times as he reminded, “We can stop at any time if you need.”

Eyes wide and fixed onto him—specifically on his cock, which he’d soon gape you on—you asked, “Do we need a safe word?”

He laughed again, through his nose like earlier, but only because you were so agonizingly cute about it. “I think ‘stop’ will work just fine.”

You did that smile again, winding the knot in his stomach more than he even thought possible. Eren was so close to snapping—not like that! Not hurting you, never. More like coming undone, turning into a puddle of himself, finishing humiliatingly early—that sort of snapping. He didn’t know what had him feeling this way, but something about you made him feel like the virgin here.

He didn’t dare push inside yet, not only for your sake but for his. His eyes, now brazen and alert, scanned over you, staring you straight in the face like a silent check-in. And when you gave him the go-ahead, nothing more than a bobble of your head, slowly, he tilted his hips into yours.

With you unbelievably tight around him, he stilled with only his tip inside you. Even so, his breath had already hitched in his throat. He couldn’t hold back, he simply couldn’t. And when he gave you a little more, between his eyes flittering shut, he caught the scrunch of your nose.

There was a stretch, a certain fullness. It didn’t necessarily hurt, but it didn’t exactly feel like he belonged in there, either. It was considerate of him to take his time with you, prep you with his fingers and tongue. But even so, with his cock only halfway inside, you had your nails dug deep into his biceps.

“How’re you doing?” Eren asked.

“I’m—” You glanced at where your bodies were connecting. There was still more of him to take. “Okay.”

It didn’t appear like he believed you, which was fair because it was a shaky statement at best. “It’s too much?”

“A little,” you sheepishly admitted.

He pulled out of you, and even that made you wince. Your shoulders dropped back to the mattress, every muscle in your body easing up now that he wasn’t bullying inside you.

"Here.” Eren rolled onto his back. He guided you on top of him, set you so your knees straddled his waist, his cock resting between your legs. Somehow, it looked even longer like that, laid upon his abs. “Let’s try it like this.”

Like this? It felt incredibly vulnerable from up here, where he could see you—in all your glory—bouncy above him. Plus, you hardly knew what you were doing; you had just given your first handjob! If you were being honest, you thought you’d just sort of lay there and take it from him, and now he was expecting you to ride him? It was intimidating, to say the least, even if Eren tried to assure you it wasn’t.

“You have total control this way.”

That was the exact thing you feared. You didn’t want any control. What if you did something wrong?

Apparently, you didn’t do a great job at masking your worry because Eren immediately placed his hands on your hips, not taking them in his grasp but rubbing his thumbs encouragingly against your skin.

The entire point of this was to trust him. That was why you were doing this—losing it to Eren, someone who wouldn’t make fun of you. That way, when it really mattered, you wouldn’t royally fuck up. And after getting this far, there was no chance in hell you would end the night a virgin. Well, half-virgin.

Ready to try again, you drew a deep breath, lifting yourself to your knees. Before you reached for him, like the new sexpert that you were, you spat in the palm of your hand, not minding Eren’s eyes this time. You stroked over the condom, mixing its lube with your saliva, then lined his cock up with you.

Carefully, you sat down. He only reached as deep as before, but the pressure was nowhere near what it once was. You rolled your hips, testing different angles to see what worked best—how you could get more of him, all of him, inside you.

Eren curved a hand around the nape of your neck, cooing, “Come here.”

He brought you in for a kiss—more than a kiss—his tongue immediately licking into your mouth the second your lips crashed into his, tasting every one of your contented, little hums.

He snaked a hand between your legs, lazily thumbing over your clit until your lips were unable to match his fervency. It was more like you were moaning against his mouth, right into it, sharing each of his breaths until your cheeks sweltered. He melted you from the inside out, softening you up like butter until you were flush against his pelvis—as easy as that. Cautiously, you started rocking your hips.

“That’s it,” Eren whispered into the corner of your mouth.

With quivering arms, you held yourself up with your palms pressed into his chest. Perched proudly atop him, the tip of his cock reached deeper, filling you deeper than anything else had before. It stole your breath, almost like you felt him in your throat.

Eren admired how your mouth fell into an adorable ‘o’ before you started moving. As though a switch had flipped, you were suddenly rolling your hips against him—slowly, of course—repeatedly having him hit that delicious spot again as you indulgently chased after your third orgasm.

“You’re doing so good, taking me well for—for your first time.”

Shit. Eren remembered he was taking your virginity.

He inhaled sharply, hoping you wouldn’t notice how his voice gave way, or how his cock jolted inside you when he realized he was the first to have you like this. His cock was the first to fill you, stretch you, mold you to accommodate him. Only him.

“Do what feels good for you, baby.”

The pet name slipped past him before he could wrangle it back, but you didn’t seem to catch it. Or, at least, you didn’t mind.

No, you were too busy to hear him, more occupied with getting a feel for what you liked best. Eren let you use his cock freely because—what, was he supposed to stop you? Fuck no. He would let you continue forever if you desired it, so long as you’d continue gifting him with such lovely and lewd expressions—the sweet curl of your lip, the knit of your determined brows as your thighs had surely started to burn.

But, boy, it was quite the challenge, letting you have your way with him. You could only keep your pace for a moment or two before you’d take a break. Such a fucking tease, and you didn’t even know it. It was endearing how worn out you were from everything that came before this, and all Eren wanted was to dig his heels into your bed, pound away at that tight pussy of yours, and show you just how wonderful he could make you feel.

It was a test of strength for him, whether he could hold back or not, because finally, you looked like you were enjoying yourself on his cock. You took him with short strokes, a simple tilt of your hips back and forth once you realized you could grind your clit into his pelvis.

He could tell you were close, from the way you fluttered around him to the gasps getting caught in your throat from the added, and absolutely euphoric, pressure.

“Just like that. Keep going. Make yourself come for me.”

The gravel in Eren’s voice pushed you closer to the edge. There was a growl to it, and you could feel it vibrate through you. You tossed your head back with a cry loud enough to wake a neighbor as you shoved a hand between your legs, desperate to come.

Eren shushed you dotingly, but there was a grin on his face as he placed his sticky palm against your mouth. “Can’t let them hear us now, can we?”

He felt your heady breath as you panted, trying to reach your peak. When you couldn’t ride him any longer, your hips an erratic sputter, he beamed up at you, slack-jawed smile and all, and said, “Feel good? Need some help?”

Too overwhelmed, you couldn’t even nod your head. You babbled uselessly.

“Want me to fuck you, just a little? Get you coming on my cock?”

“Yes, please—oh, God, Eren.”

When he started to move, thrusting into you ever so slightly, you were already scratching your nails down his chest. It was no bother to him, though. He only wanted you to do it again.

When you came, you squeezed him so perfectly that he thought he might explode. It was taking his last bit of self-control to fuck you at such a steady and slow pace when, in reality, he only wanted to hammer into you. Eren felt like he was moments away from boiling over. His face was burning, and he could feel the sweat beading in his hairline from this aching, pent-up desire within him. After fingering you, going down on you—no, after days of fantasizing about you—he needed release.

Even you could see it—the unmistakable flush of his face now spreading to the base of his neck and spanning his chest. As blissed out as you were, limply collapsed on top of him, you mumbled against his skin, “Eren, I want you to come, too.”

And how could he turn that down? Now that you had come three times, he figured he could finally have his turn.

“I’m gonna go a bit faster now. You tell me if that’s okay or not.”

Before he could even flinch, you assured him, “It’s okay. I want you to.”

The soft laziness of your voice, the dreaminess seeping through it like syrup—it was too much.

Eren took you by the hips first, holding your body pliant for him to thrust into. He started with long drags of his cock, letting his tip kiss your entrance before stuffing himself back inside you. Each time he bottomed out, he bit back every vulgar curse he wanted to hiss into your ear.

Then, he flattened his hands against your back, folding you into him with his palms seared into your shoulder blades. Your face was smothered in the crook of his neck as he fucked up into you. The bed began to squeak, like a mockery of your tiny bleats.

“You all right?” Eren asked, his voice hoarse.

You only made an affirmative sound that got muffled as you burrowed against him. With your chest warm, like a tingling between your lungs, and your head stuck somewhere in the clouds, you took him in a speechless, almost surreal, bliss. How fiercely he needed you, if only for a blip in time, was intoxicating.

And in that fleeting moment, the sin of it, the forbiddenness surrounding you, had vanished. Eren was sure it would rear itself again, that was for certain. He could predict the ripple of guilt that’d course through him once he inevitably faced what he’d done. But even if it meant betraying his best friend, he couldn’t find it within himself to regret it.

Especially when he realized how fucking good it felt to come inside you. With his arms locked around your waist, your entire body smushed against his, he snapped his hips into you, as if he could possibly fuck you any deeper. He emptied himself into the condom as a groan tore through his throat, the hum of it against the shell of your ear like a final shudder down your spine.

He pulled out of you, faintly cursing as he did. You flopped at his side, entirely spent, and stared at the ceiling with fuzzy, unfocused vision. The rush of adrenaline was on a steep comedown, and you were already starting to feel it. Sore, but extremely satisfied.

“You should probably go to the bathroom—to pee and stuff,” Eren said, that familiar, boyish side already returning in full force.

Pee. Got it.

You only muttered a ‘yeah’ before you redressed and tip-toed off to the bathroom down the hallway. There, you wiped yourself clean, forced yourself to pee, and gave yourself a good long look in the mirror.

In just one night, you had hit every base. By definition, a home run, in your book—and with your brother’s ‘cute friend,’ at that.

You were shocked to see Eren was still there when you returned to your bedroom. He had on his boxers and tee already, stepping into his sweatpants as you opened the door. He gave you a soft smile as you hopped into your bed.

Then, even more surprisingly, he asked, “Do you want me to stay?”

Eren knew he should leave unless he hoped to get caught. Still, he thought it was the right thing to say.

You giggled, “I think my brother would kill you if he found you in here.”

He laughed along with you, but when it settled, he crawled beneath your sheets anyway.

Though you felt uncertain about it, he consoled it away with, “Don’t worry. I’ll just hang here until you fall asleep.” You at least deserved that.

He turned the light off and let you rest your head against his chest, your arm looped around his waist. You didn't know where the urge to cuddle came from, and neither did he, but he didn't question it. It was comfortable, even as he waited for that pang of guilt to hit.

But it never did. And once he heard your breathing taper to a peaceful drone, he slipped out of your bed and snuck back down to the basement. That stupid air mattress felt a whole lot more comfortable now.

Finally, Eren had scratched the itch he couldn't kick, just to get it out of his system. Now, there was absolutely no way he'd think of you again—not that kittenish little smile nor how you curled against him in your sleep—and definitely not while you were three hours away at school…

Right?

✧ continue to part two ✧

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut

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ceilidho · 9 months

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prompt: ex special forces ghost working as a “travel companion for hire” and reader hires him because she’s too nervous to go solo travelling

It’s not the first time you’ve been somewhere on your own, but it’s the first time you’ve realized that maybe solo trips aren’t for you.

It’s in Germany, three drinks in and stumbling back to your hotel room, paranoia gripping you every time you pass a dark alleyway or take a right onto a deserted street. It’s the man walking your way on the same side of the street that has you stuffing your hand into your purse, clammy fingers gripped tight around your keys.

On the flight home, you’re wiped. Beat. Finally untethered from a week’s worth of anxiety slowly reaching a boiling point. You’ve traveled on your own before, but it’s the first time you can remember being acutely aware of your vulnerability. Granted, before this trip, it’s not like you’d traveled all that much on your own, especially outside of the country.

Ghost comes as a recommendation from a friend of a friend. You’d hemmed and hawed about the whole ordeal the Monday after getting home from your trip—working the front desk at an auto-body shop means that there’s no shortage of people to talk to. The guy picking up his car (fender bender, a wicked crack down the front that’s since been fixed) listens to you gripe with an absent look on his face, but you’ve learned to tune those out. People will listen to you even in spite of their indifference when there’s nothing else to do.

“Y’know, I know a guy that does stuff like that,” he says, cutting you off halfway through another half-baked rant about airline fares these days. Your mouth puckers into something quizzical. Tell me more, it says without saying. “Ex-special forces. Left because of some medical thing, I think. Dunno. Anyway, he’s been all over the world—built like a brick shithouse, that one—and last I heard he was, uh, renting out his services.”

“Services?”

“Like, he’d go with you, hang back while you do your thing, but basically the muscle. There to back you up if someone fucks with you.”

You’re just fresh enough off your vacation (an entirely miserable week, lest you explain the whole thing all over again) to give him your number. He promises to put you in touch with the friend of a friend who’ll put you in touch with one Simon Riley. He then gives you shit about the price on his bill and you knock ten percent off begrudgingly because the piece of paper with your number written on it is still crumpled in his palm.

No good deed goes unpunished or whatever.

“He’s not actually in the country right now,” Laswell, the friend of a friend, explains over coffee, Biscoff cookies spread out on a little tea plate between the two of you. “Or the continent.”

“Where is he?”

“For the rest of the month? Indonesia. He’s supposed to be back on the ninth. Should I let him know that you’re interested in his services?”

It’s a toss up at first. The thought of sacrificing your dignity (he would be more or less your babysitter) for adventure is tricky. With the way the dates line up—when you plan on traveling and when he gets back to the UK—you also won’t have much time to make his acquaintance before setting off.

But there are places you want to go, sites you have scribbled down in a pocket-sized notepad folded up in the inner lining of your backpack. So you give her your permission and promise to join her and her wife for dinner sometime (repayment, and also it’s only been a few months since you moved, so you currently have a dearth of friends in your life anyway).

The first time you see him when he stops by your workplace, you can’t help the double take. It just doesn’t seem possible. You know from Laswell and the guy at the body shop that Ghost is ex-military, but you’d been expecting some buzz-cut, slightly smarmy army reserves guy, maybe six-foot and decently muscled. What you don’t expect is the tatted beast that’s near twice your size. Only the top half of his face is exposed, the rest hidden beneath a black mask; you think briefly of asking him about it, but chicken out under his withering stare.

He doesn’t seem impressed when he meets you. “What’s your list?”

“Um…just around Europe. I haven’t thought about it too much.”

He stares down at you. “You wanna hire me just to run around the continent?”

“I haven’t thought about it!”

“Well, best give it a think fast, doll. Haven’t got all day for you to figure it out.”

You do have to think fast. He doesn’t leave until you’ve spelled out exactly where you want to go, until he’s watched you book plane tickets over your shoulder, heavy at your back while sweat beads at the nape of your neck. He’s entirely too intimidating to be looming over you like that.

You watch him whip out his phone and fire off a couple of texts; your phone pings with an email telling you that you’ve been reimbursed for his flight and when you protest, he brushes you off by saying that he’ll invoice you for everything at the end of your trip.

Then what was promised falls into place. Free of burden, free of anxiety or restless energy, new possibilities open up to you: countries where you don’t speak the language; countries where the sites you want to see are spread out across a wide enough area that it warrants having a man packed beside you in a too-small taxi, his thigh a hot line against yours; hiking trips through national parks, where you don’t feel like you might slip down a hill and twist your ankle, stuck without water or cell service.

You only have two weeks worth of vacation, so you use them wisely. A week traveling across Switzerland and Austria, and then a week in Cairo to see the pyramids.

Ghost hangs back most of the time while you traipse around and do your own thing. You can feel him at your back when you approach the stands where the local vendors have set up shop, perusing silver trinkets and jewelry, only returning to your side when someone stands too close to you.

He fists a hand in a pickpocket’s shirt when they try for your purse, giving them a shake and sending them off.

“You didn’t have to do all that,” you mutter in his direction as you watch the young man scurry away. Not sure if you’re blushing or sunburnt.

“You hired me to deal with this shit my way. Don’t get mouthy now.”

You think it might be the former because while you might not be the best at reapplying sunscreen, Ghost has been gentle-parenting you this whole trip. He pulls you off into corners and growls down at you while squirting a dollop of sunscreen into the palm of his hand to spread across your face. You close your eyes when his rough hands trace over your face and breathe out heavily when he spins you around, big hands engulfing your shoulders and spreading down your back.

You don’t think it could get worse. It gets worse.

He won’t spring for his own room. You stare at him in disbelief in the lobby of the two star hotel where you’ve booked a room with a single bed. There’s a vending machine in the corner of the lobby that only sells coke (all of the other buttons are broken). One of the ceiling lights flickers on and off, an ominous buzz filling the room. Ghost doesn’t so much as blink.

“You didn’t tell me—I didn’t know that was my job,” you rebuff, anxiety a fist in your throat. You’ve already asked the front desk for another room, but they’ve been sold out for weeks, the woman at the front desk informed you with no small amount of pity. It’s the busy season; even two-star hotels get booked up in the dog days of summer.

He cocks an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Never had to before. My job isn’t to book shit.”

“I sent you my itinerary.”

“That’s not how I work, love. Where’s your room?”

It’s nothing short of humiliating to have him follow you back to your shabby little hotel room. Your hands shake when you unlock the door, opening it to something no bigger than a closet. You’d purposefully gotten a smaller room than you usually would, anticipating the cost of Ghost's invoice at the end of your trip. No good deed goes unpunished.

He ushers you into the room with a hand on your back, shutting the door behind him. You flick on the only light in the room, a bulbous thing hanging from the ceiling. No bedside lamp.

When he settles on the end of the only twin bed in the room, the bedframe groans under his weight. Your hands are already clammy. He’s already making himself at home, unbuckling his belt with a single hand; it makes you almost dizzy to look over at him so you try desperately to avert your eyes.

“At least wait until I’m in the other room,” you hiss, rifling through your suitcase faster to get your clothes for after your shower.

“Quit moping, love,” Ghost scolds, resting back on his elbows and toeing off his boots. “We’ll make it work. Just gonna have to get comfortable together.”

You scurry off to the bathroom with your pajamas clutched tight to your chest, paying no attention to the fact that he doesn’t sound as upset as you thought he might.

#cod mw2 #ceil writing #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #cod simon riley #cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost/reader #ghost cod

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supercap2319 · 8 months

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"Take off your pants, Doll." Bucky's deep voice ordered.

Y/N looks at him and smirks. "My, my, Sergeant Barnes. At least take me to dinner first."

Bucky rolled his eyes even though he was blushing as he grabbed Y/N's pants and pulled them down. "Bucky, I'm fine. It didn't even break my skin." Bucky examined the wound on Y/N's thigh and raised an eyebrow at him. The Avengers had a mission of capturing the Wrecking Crew, during the fight, Bucky had seen Y/N get cut, but he soldiered on.

"It'll heal." Y/N said. "I have invulnerable skin. It will heal up by the time we go get ice cream."

Bucky sighed as he pulled his pants back up. "You need to be more careful, Doll."

"I'm being careful. This was a little fender bender."

The winter soldier didn't look convinced.

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #james buchanan barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #James Barnes x male reader #winter soldier #the winter soldier x male reader #mcu winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x y/n #sebastian stan #Sebastian Stan x male reader

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soberscientistlife · 3 months

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Something to think about…. What if you were a single parent with a child . You work full time for $14.00 hr. You bring home roughly $800 .00 per paycheck (bi-weekly). Your bills: $1, 000 . 00 / rent $150 .00 / electrical $250 .00 / car payment $150 .00 / car insurance So let’s do the math : You bring home about $1,600 .00 a month & your bills average about $1,550.00 (give or take). You’re making it, but barely. This doesn't even include groceries, internet, cable, cell phone, etc . (nor does it include child tax credit, or child support) Now, it’s a really cold December and you get a power bill for $600 .00 How do you pay that? To put it simply , you don’t. Because you can’t. So your power gets shut off. But you know what your lease says? It says you get evicted if your utilities are terminated. So now you’re in court crying to a judge who doesn’t care, & you have 10 days to get out. Well you’re in luck, because you found somewhere with 3 days to spare & it’s only $650.00 a month! But to get in, you must pass a background & credit check. Which you can’t because you just got evicted. You’ve never been a criminal, but even if you could pass it, you’re looking at $1300 to move in, after paying the deposit & first month’s rent. Time’s up …. Landlord shows up at 7am with the police & changed your locks. So, now you’re living in your car with your 7 year old son & everything you need to get by. You tried to get a storage unit, but you don’t have a billing address so they won’t sell one to you. So you could only take what would fit in your backseat. You pay to shower at local truck stops & eat whatever can be cooked in a gas station microwave.Someone sees you & your son living like this & calls C.P.S; guess what happens next ? ? ? They remove your child from your care. As if this isn’t devastating enough, you lose your job too. (Because “an employee losing their child reflects poorly on this company .”) So now, you apply for an apartment with the region where the waiting list is 3-7 years. Then you go into Wal-Mart to put in an application. When you get back to your car you see that your back window has been smashed & someone helped themselves to your belongings. Remember that it is December & really cold. Now you have damage to your only shelter. You call your car insurance, who says your deductible is $1,000.00 ~ AND ~ they’re going to increase your monthly rate since you’re now “ high risk .” You call the homeless shelter as a last resort & all their beds are full. I’ll stop here ….. Because I think you get the point . The people we work with everyday are these people . WE ARE THESE PEOPLE . We are all so close to homelessness & don’t even realize it . All it takes is :

one unexpected bill📃~

one fender bender🚙💥🚗~

one lay-off 📊~

one house fire 🏠🔥 , etc. Instead of talking trash about people who are poor , homeless , or need assistance , why don’t you try being grateful that you’re not in their shoes …… YET ! This is about staying humble & being kind . BE THANKFUL FOR WHAT YOU HAVE ❤

Read this, then read it again

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 17 days

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Blue and Fire Engine Red, Pt 5

Special thanks to @magicalstripedhorse, who helped keep this installment on track. :)

-----

“Oh no,” Kara drawls the moment she steps out onto the stoop of her building eight days later. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Lena smirks, leaning casually against the side of an old beat up pick up truck. The red ball-cap on her head is just as worn, its frayed bill extending backwards from Lena’s head.

“Flannel? Really?” Kara eyes the shirt in question where it’s tied around Lena’s waist. “Can you be any more of a lesbian?”

Lena spreads her hands. “We’re going to a farmer’s market,” she says. “What did you expect? An LBD?”

“Hm,” Kara hums, bouncing down the steps to greet her girlfriend with a kiss. “Maybe for dinner later.”

She definitely wouldn’t mind seeing Lena in a little black dress. Her mind conjures up an image that very nearly makes her pull Lena back upstairs, but the call of fresh fruit and vegetables proves to be too strong.

“All right, Tegan and Sara, let’s get going.”

The drive is somewhat familiar, as Kara has been to the farmers market before, but it’s been a while and it takes longer than Kara remembers. She’s not mad about it though– it gives her time to catch up with Lena about their weeks, which are relatively tame for a week in the life of first responders.

Lena had a few oven fires, a serious case of whiplash during a fender bender, and not one, but two cats stuck in a tree. Definitely tops Kara’s days of petty larceny, jaywalking, and a single wellness check. But she knows better than to comment on the relative slowness– the moment it’s acknowledged is the moment the sky starts to fall.

Just when the city gives way to suburbs, Lena turns the truck into a graveled parking lot. Kara takes note of the cars already there, and the thin stream of people already circulating through the stalls. It’s only mid-morning, and she expects the crowd will only grow as the day progresses.

“Come on,” Kara calls as she hops out of the truck, slamming the dusty door behind her. “I need asparagus.”

She gets her asparagus, and much more. She snags an artichoke and some lettuce as well as some strawberries she makes a note to prep for the next time Lena comes over. Lena splits away for a short moment, and comes back with fava beans and a joke about a nice chianti that makes Kara laugh.

Produce leads to cuts of various meats out of coolers. Lena nudges her. “You like steak?”

Kara’s mouth waters. “Oh, yeah.”

Lena requests two prime ribs, and tucks them and a slab of bacon into her tote alongside her fava beans. By the time they get to the baked goods and crafts, Kara’s own bag is sitting heavy in the crook of her elbow. She moves it to her shoulder instead, and has just prodded Lena towards a live herbs vendor when a call splits the air.

“Hey, Sarge!”

Kara turns on instinct, and to her surprise Lena does as well. The expectant set of her features strikes Kara as odd, but she focuses her attention instead on who might have called for her. She doesn’t recognize any of the oncoming faces, which makes her frown.

“Sarge!”

The crowd parts just long enough for a man in a wheelchair to roll out from the throng of people. His face is round and creased with joy as he coasts towards them, but Kara pulls back slightly when she doesn’t recognize him.

Lena steps forward. “Hey, Gonzales.”

Kara watches stunned as she extends her hand and engages in a sort of handshake with the man– palms, backs, and a fist bump top and bottom. Clearly, Lena is more than familiar with the man. Kara’s gaze darts back and forth between them, taking in Lena’s easy smile and the man’s eager countenance, which had yet to dim even when he turned his gaze to Kara.

“Yo,” Gonzales says with a grin. “When Jess said you stopped by the bar with a new lady friend, I knew she must have been a looker, but damn, Sarge–”

“Watch your mouth, Corporal.”

Kara steps up to introduce herself. “Sergeant, huh?” she says, smirking. Lena has yet to return to the subject of her time in the service, so Kara is thrilled to have even just her rank. “Who’d’a thunk?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Gonzales confirms. “The sergeant here was the best damn medic in the company. Saved our unit’s ass more than a couple times.” He rolls forward a few inches to offer a handshake. “Hector Gonzales, ma’am. Pleasure to meet one of the Sarge’s lady friends.”

“Police Sergeant Kara Danvers,” Kara returns. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Corporal.”

The man waves her off. “Please, it’s just Hector or Gonzales now. Gotta get used to the civvie life now. Right, Sarge?”

Lena rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Sure.”

“You said you’re Jess’ brother?” Kara briefly scans Gonzales and notes an above the knee amputation and a serious burn scar on his right arm that stretched from his wrist to disappear under the sleeve of his t-shirt.

Hector nods enthusiastically. “Yes, ma’am!” He shoots a bright look towards Lena. “Did she tell you she got early admission to NCU? Honors track.”

Lena beams. “No, she didn’t! That’s wonderful!”

“First choice and everything. She’ll be the first one in the family to go to college, you know.”

“What is she planning to study?” Kara asks.

Hector’s grin is infectious. “Art. Our mother wanted her to be a lawyer, because that girl argue like nothing else, but she's had her sights on art from the beginning. Sarge has seen some of her drawings, when she sent some to me overseas. Remember Sarge?”

Lena nods. “They were pretty amazing.”

Kara smiles, but a tug of sadness pulls at some of her joy for Jess. She’d almost gone to art school once. That had been the goal, before the shooting. After everything that happened… well, she hasn’t picked up a brush in a long time.

“Hey,” Hector says, pulling Kara’s attention back to the conversation. “I’m getting some friends together to watch the game next weekend. You guys should come!”

Kara has no idea what game he means, or even what sport, but Lena nods. “Yeah, shoot me the details and we’ll try to make it.”

“Wilco, Sarge. Oh! And you can invite any of your folks from the firehouse too. I can tell them how lucky they are to have you.”

Lena’s cheeks flush pink. “Gonzales, I swear to god–”

“Hector!” A young hispanic woman calls from further down the aisle. “You were supposed meet me at– oh!”

“Cecilia!” Hector waves at her, beckoning her closer. “C’mere, this is the Sarge!”

Cecilia’s go wide. “Oh! Sergeant Reilly! I’ve heard so much about you!”

Lena’s easy smile widens. “Uh oh,” she groans comedically. She reaches for Kara, drawing her forward into the conversation. “This is Kara.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Kara offers gamely. They exchange handshakes, with smiles all around. Kara revels in being included, but even more so in the sense that she’s being allowed a further glimpse into who Lena is.

Hector and Cecilia are sweet together. Hector is engaged and enthusiastic, while Cecilia is a little more reserved. But Lena converses easily, laughing and grinning, totally at ease in the presence of her fellow soldier. Eventually, Cecilia reminds Hector that they’re almost due to be somewhere else.

“Right, right,” Hector nods. He prepares to roll away, but pauses to peg Lena with a stern gaze. “Game, next weekend. You’ll tell your crew?”

Lena nods with a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll let ‘em know. Good catching up, Gonzalez. Take it easy.”

“You too, Sarge! Rolling out!”

Lena watches them head off, then turns back towards Kara with a chagrined roll of her eyes. Her mouth opens, but Kara cuts her off. “Don’t you dare apologize,” she warns. “He was delightful.”

“Yeah,” Lena agrees. “He’s a good guy. Him and Jess both. They’re good eggs.”

“And besides, anyone who adores you like he does is definitely good in my book.”

This time, Lena’s roll of her eyes are directed at Kara. “Ah yes. Remind me to not let you two in a room alone. Who knows what shenanigans you’d get into–”

Suddenly a cry further down the aisle breaks through the buzz of people. Without conscious thought, or even a look between them, Kara and Lena both begin to push towards the call. Breaking through the circle already starting to form, they find a young woman seizing on the ground.

Lena immediately kneels beside her, smoothly untying her flannel and folding it as a pillow to pad the woman’s head against the pavement. “Calling a bus,” Kara says briefly, already pulling her phone out to dial.

“Hold up,” Lena calls, her voice firm with easy authority. “Got a medical alert bracelet here.” She flips the silver tag to read the inscription, then nods to herself. “No ambulance. Known condition.”

Kara nods her acknowledgement, pocketing her phone as she crouches. “What do you need?”

“Some water would be good, if you can find it.”

“On it,” Kara confirms, rising back to her feet. But the time she returns with a bottle of water from a nearby vendor, the girl’s seizing has stopped. She answers Lena’s questions with slurred, mumbling responses, but Lena doesn’t look concerned.

“Okay, Lydia, you’re doing great. Just take your time.”

Kara kneels to one knee, handing over the bottle of water. “Any chance she hit her head?”

“I’ll evaluate once she’s a little more with it. So far nothing concerning.” She glances towards the lingering crowd. “Could you get us some space?”

The remaining onlookers moved on once Kara started waving them away, assuring them the situation was handled. When the last resume their shopping, Lydia is blinking up at Lena with eyes rapidly sharpening with focus.

“Welp. That’s embarrassing,” she delivers drolly, pressing a hand to her forehead.

“There you are,” Lena says, gently giving Lydia’s shoulder a pat. “Lydia, my name is Lieutenant Riley with the National City Fire Department. Do you feel ready to sit up? I’ve some water here I’d like you to sip.”

Lydia manages to sit upright with only a little bit of an assist from Lena. She accepts the open water bottle with both hands, which tremble as they lift the water to her lips. She takes several long gulps before groaning.

“Do you mind if I check your head for bumps?” Lena asks. “We want to make sure you didn’t hit your head on the way down.”

Lydia nods her consent, and holds still as Lena begins to investigate the back of her head with expert fingers. “Anything hurt?”

“Just my pride,” Lydia quips. When she catches Kara’s sympathetic gaze, she continues. “It’s still relatively new. My doctor says it should get better with medication, but… ugh! All I wanted was some asparagus!” She sighs. “At least I felt this one coming on– managed to sit down before it hit.”

Lena pulls away, placing her hands on her knees as she gives her patient a warm smile. “Well, I didn’t find any bumps or lumps, so it looks like that did the trick. Good thinking.”

“Oh god,” Lydia groans. “You didn’t call an ambulance, did you?”

“Nope.” Lena nods towards the girl’s wrist. “Medic alert did its job.”

“Thank goodness,” Lydia sighs in relief. “I seriously can not afford another trip.”

Lena chuckles, rubbing Lydia’s back. “I can imagine. How do you feel about trying to stand? I’d feel better if we got you to some shade.”

She gives Lydia a hand up, who seems steady on her feet. Once satisfied the girl wasn’t about to keel over, Lena nods towards a small patch of trees. “How about that bench over there?”

Kara hovers, adrift without a way to help. She carries hers and Lena’s bags of goodies along with her as they all move towards the bench.

“How are you feeling?” Lena checks in once they’re seated.

Lydia pauses, taking stock. “Just tired, I think. Always feel like I got hit by a freight train, but it usually goes away.” She glances at Lena. “You guys seriously don’t have to stay.”

“I’d feel better if we did. Just until you feel well enough to finish up and get yourself home.”

“Okay.” Lydia stares at the open water bottle resting on her thigh, then looks back to Lena. “You said you were a firefighter?”

“And medic,” Kara offers, unable to keep quiet. Lena’s eyes flash at her, but in affection or irritation, Kara can’t tell.

Lydia’s eyes spark with interest. “I want to go to med school after undergrad. I don’t know what discipline yet, though.”

Kara listens to them converse for several minutes, propping herself up against the nearest tree. Closing her eyes against the sun, she breathes deep the smell of spring blossoms and fresh cut grass, letting the hum of their voices lull her to a state between waking and sleeping. Well, maybe more asleep than not, considering the bench is empty when she next blinks her eyes open. Lydia is nowhere to be found, and Lena is sitting on the ground beside her, scrolling through her phone.

“You could have woken me up,” Kara gripes half-heartedly.

“But it’s such a nice day to lean against a tree,” Lena returns, half teasing.

Kara reaches over until she finds Lena’s hand, lacing their fingers together. Neither of them move to rise.

“You were amazing just now.”

Lena merely shrugs. “Anyone in my position would have done the same.”

“We both know there aren’t many people who can do what you do.”

A hum answers her, but Lena refrains from saying anything else. Kara bites back a frown. She knows Lena doesn’t feel comfortable sharing anything about her time overseas as a combat medic– not entirely unexpected. Some of Kara’s veteran coworkers feel the same. And not all first responders respond well to positive recognition, which isn’t uncommon in the first responder community either. But Kara can’t shake the feeling in her gut that she heard a note of shame in Lena’s voice.

Whatever it is, Kara resolves to know it better, no matter how long it takes.

“Wanna get out of here?” Lena asks quietly. “I think I hear a steak dinner calling your name.”

Kara grins, but closes her eyes and leans her head against the tree behind her once more. “Just a few more minutes.”

She hears Lena smile, then a rustle as Lena leans back as well.

A good day indeed.

#supercorp #blue and fire engine red #the farmers market episode #they're lesbians harold

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boilingheart · 10 months

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Hi there! My name's Mimi, I'm 25, and I'm struggling financially at the moment due to inconsistent and cut hours at work. I'm having a hard time making ends meet, especially now that I'm attempting to pursue an English degree at school, and need some help paying for food, my darling cat's medical expenses, and repairs for my beloved 2008 Honda Civic.

I need a total of $1180 to break even while I try to sort myself out and get a different job to make ends meet. Here's how the money will be used:

IMMEDIATE

$250 Food expenses

$40 N95s to go to school comfortably

The first ~$300 will be used to feed my family, since we're currently food insecure.

Once that's secure, I'll be able to focus on our one year old kitty Miko, a rescue calico who showed up at our doorstep one day sick and weak, and has become part of our home. Though we were able to treat her scabies and other issues at first, we ran out of money to get her all of her shots, and I haven't been able to pay for it yet. I want to get her vaccinated as soon as possible, as I've put it off way too long.

CAT FEES

$49 Check up

$30 FVRCP shot

$24 Rabies shot

$50 test Feline Leuk/AIDS

$27 Leuk/AIDS Vaccine

My darling 2008 Honda Civic is pretty great, but I don't have the money for the oil change, and my tires are old and can't hold any air pressure in them, so I need to get them replaced. I live in the desert, which sees temps over 100F/38C consistently in the Summer, and I don't have a working A/C. I don't know what exactly is wrong with it, so I don't have a real estimate on the costs just yet, but I know I want it to get repaired as soon as possible.

CAR FEES

$70 oil change

$240 new tires

$400 A/C repair (guesstimate)

$??? Air Intake Resonator repair

A piece of my car fell out after a fender bender called the Air Intake Resonator. I... don't know how it fell out, and I don't know how much it'll cost to get it put back in or replaced. I think it will be very expensive. Because I don't have a quote, I haven't added it to the total I'm raising for here, but it's in the back of my mind. It's safe to drive without it for now, but it might do damage over time. If anyone has any advice about the air intake resonator, please let me know!

Any and all help is appreciated right now. Thank you all so much for supporting me <3 I'll also be opening up commissions at some point soon to try and help make up some expenses, so keep an eye out for that!

UPDATE

$1,165/$1,180 raised!!!

Though it's not technically complete, that's basically everything! Thank you all SOOOOO MUCH for the help! I got my A/C fixed, Miko got all her stuff set up, just waiting on a final appointment in September, and I was able to get groceries for this month! Thank you! I just need to go out and get my new tires, and we're SET!!! THANK YOU GUYS!!

#bheart talks #fundraiser #signal boost #mutual aid #donations #cats #cars

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hellowhisperingstars · 1 year

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Fender Bender

Summary: You're late coming home from work and Eddie gets a phone call he never thought he would get.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x GN!Reader

Words: 918

Warnings: Car accidents, hospitals, Eddie doesn't listen and thinks the worst. Fluff. Cussing. I think that's all.

AN: My boyfriend was in a car accident today and I had a lot of stress about it, so this was my way of getting that out. He's fine and so is everyone in the other car thankfully! The cars are still yet to be determined. Enjoy my stress blurb!

You were late. You were never late coming home. Especially this late, dinner was ready and sitting on the table but your car was nowhere in sight, it made him nervous. Pacing didn’t help, neither did watching TV, or reading a book, so he resigned himself to sitting on the couch, his hand propping his chin up as he eyes the clock on the wall watching as it ticked closer and closer to you being a full hour late home. What could possibly be keeping you? You were usually very good about calling if you were going to be staying late at the diner.

Wiping his hands down his face Eddie sighed as he started to think about who he could call. Harrington? Nah, you had no reason to see him today. Robin was attached to Steve’s hip so she was out. Maybe Nanc- The phone rang. Jumping up Eddie ran to the phone hanging on the wall. “Y/N?!”

“Uh, no, sorry kid.” Hopper's voice sounded out over the line.

“Hopper?” Confusion sounded in Eddie’s tone. “Is everything okay? Was Y/N arrested?”

“No,” Hopper said, he sounded tired. “Look Eddie, there was an accident. I need you to come down to Hawkins Memorial. They’r-”

“An accident?” Eddie felt his heart fall into his ass, white noise completely blocking out anything Hopper was saying. Oh my god. There was an accident. You were dead. Hopper was calling to tell him you were dead.

“Eddie? Did you hear me?”

Shaking his head he put a hand on his forehead. “Yeah. Yeah, I heard you. I’ll be right there.”

“Okay,” Hopper muttered into the phone. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah.” In a daze Eddie placed the phone back on the hook slowly. An accident. You were in an accident, and now Hopper wanted him at the hospital. Grabbing his leather jacket from the back of the kitchen chair he pulled the keys from the pocket and headed out of your shared home towards his beat up old van.

Twenty minutes that’s all it took to get from the trailer to the hospital. Closing his eyes as he shut the car off he tried to calm his racing heart and mentally prepare himself for whatever was about to happen. He was absolutely positive that Hopper had called him down to identify your body or something. Hopping from the car he made his way into the hospital with his hands in his pockets, eyes focused on the ground as it slowly turned from asphalt to linoleum as the automatic doors opened. Was he supposed to go up to the reception desk? Or?

“Munson!” Hopper’s voice called out to him, making him look up at the older police chief as he walked out of the emergency room. “Over here kid.”

‘Alright, here it goes.’ Eddie walked over to Hopper who watched him moving slowly.

“You okay kid?” He asked his hands on his hips. “You look like someone died.”

Was he serious right now? He looked like someone died?? ISN’T THAT WHY HE CALLED HIM?!?!

“Anyway they’re back here. They didn’t want me to call you but I insisted.” He said, gesturing back towards the emergency room. “Now, they’re fine. A couple of cuts, a few bruises, and a pretty good goose egg on their forehead from hitting the steering wheel but overall they're fine. Will be pretty sore tomorrow though.”

“What?” You were alive? Holy shit.. Holy shit! “Where are they?”

“Fifth room on the right.” Hopper pointed and stepped to the side quickly as Eddie all but pushed him aside. “Don’t run in the hallways! Jesus kid!”

But Eddie wasn’t listening, you were alive, and that’s what he cared about! His reeboks skidded on the linoleum floors as he burst through the door to see you sitting on the bed, a little beat up, with red rimmed eyes, and a gauze taped to your forehead but breathing. “Oh thank fucking god.”

“Eddie? Baby are you okay?” You asked as you blinked at him.

“You know him?” The nurse asked as she finished up her exam of you. Except for a few cuts from broken glass on your face and that piece of gauze you were sore but perfectly fine.

“My boyfriend,” You nodded as you smiled at the nurse.

“See, kid, they're fine.” Hopper said, folding his arms across his chest as he leaned in the doorway.

Eddie sighed in relief when the nurse moved away from you and he was able to take you into his arms. “Are you okay? What happened? Hopper made it sound like you died.”

“I told you they were fine on the phone!” Hopper grumbled rolling his eyes. “It’s not my fault you weren’t listening!”

“I was at a red light and the person behind me didn’t stop in time. A pretty bad fender bender. That’s all.” You smiled into his leather jacket before he leaned back to take a good look at you, your eyes started to fill with tears again. “I think the car is totaled though. The trunk won't close anymore and the bumper was torn off. I’m sorry, you worked so hard to help me buy that car.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie sighed, pushing your hair from your face. “It’s just a car and we have insurance. We can get a new one. I can’t get a new you. I’m just glad you're okay.”

“You’re not mad?”

“No babe,” He smiled at you. “I’m not mad. Let’s get you home now.”

“Okay.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie imagine #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfiction #st s4

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hamiltonaf · 11 months

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Fender Bender | Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x Hakimi Sister!Reader

Requested: Anonymous

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: Angst turns into fluff / Mention of an accident / Enemies to Lovers

A/N: Thank you anon for requesting. Got a bit carried away because I’m really sick. Working on other requests so bare with me, hopefully will be posting again soon. Anywho hope you guys enjoy. Ciao .xoxo

(Y/N/N) - Your Nick Name

Another day, another reason to hate Kylian. I swear the days that Achraf has training or a match, it’s actually a nightmare for me to pick him up and drop him off.

I know it sounds ridiculous that I may be over dramatic but gosh I have a lot of patience and tolerance when it comes to me having to hear Kylian pass unnecessary remarks.

I could easily tell Achraf to get himself a driver but at the same time I don’t want to accept ‘defeat’ to Kylian’s 2 cent comments.

A few times he did say things that hurt me but I didn’t let it get to me, instead I said something twice as worse. It works every time.

I can distinctly remember the day he came over to our house and just so happens that evening I was going out for a girls night. I felt confident and content after quite a while since I don’t go out much. I wore a beautiful red dress that was fitting for our night out. All the happiness in me was drained when I saw Kylian’s face as I was leaving.

“Have you seen Achraf ?” I asked him as I went to grab my car keys. “He’s upstairs” he said as he leaned back on the counter. “Okay well I’m in a hurry, please tell him that I’m gone out and I’ll be back later. Just tell him to text me” I said hurriedly. “Okay I will…but are you trying to hide that you’re going on a date ? I’m surprised someone can actually tolerate you” he said with arrogance. “First of all, it’s none of your business and second of all, that’s pretty rich coming from you” I said lastly as I was just about to head out. “You know you don’t have to be a complete ass to be funny” I lastly said with my back still facing towards him before I slammed the door and left.

It’s been about 2 weeks since that happened and we haven’t spoken since then. A bit dramatic…I know. It’s quite obvious to me that he wants to say something stupid every time he sees me but something is holding him back. His need to be stubborn.

I was on my way to pick up Achraf from training, usually I leave early so I have time to park off and watch them train, especially Kylian. Is it bad timing that I think I caught feelings for him… but we’ll just pretend for now that those feelings don’t exist.

Unfortunately I was stuck in the midst of traffic as peak-hour was nearing. It didn’t bother me because I was used to it by now, as long as I have my playlist blasting, then I’m good to go.

Traffic seemed to have subsided when the cars ahead started speeding up, until the car in front of me hit dead brakes. I slammed on the brakes saving myself from causing an accident, but it went downhill when I heard tyres screeching and was hit so hard that I had whiplash. My head hit the dashboard with a hard thud as my car had unfortunately knocked into the one in front of me.

The pain immediately hit my head and I could feel a migraine incoming. Squeezing my eyes shut in hopes that it will miraculously help with the pain, it didn’t. I sat up and rubbed at my forehead before jumping out of the car. The middle aged man came rushing over to me, “Oh my god I’m so so sorry, are you okay ?” He asked worried. “No I’m not okay ! What were you thinking ?” I yelled. “Ma’am you were the one at fault, you suddenly slammed your breaks” he argued. “Excuse me ? What speed were you doing when we’re currently in peak our traffic ?” I yelled again. A middle aged woman joined our conversation, she was the one who got him by me. Thankfully she was siding with me and in a way she helped me cool down since I got hotheaded. I mean can you even blame me if this man ruined my afternoon and now I’m the one who has to endure the pain.

Luckily nothing happened to either of them, since I was sandwiched between both cars then I had to suffer. I ended up getting lost in the time phoning my mum and insurance that it didn’t occur to me that Achraf is done with training. It wasn’t until his name flashed on my screen and I felt like slapping my forehead, but I was already in enough pain.

“Heyy (Y/N/N) ! Where are you ? Normally you’re here quite early” he said. “Hey ! Uhh yeah about that… I met in an accident so I can’t make it” I said as I shut my eyes to erase the image of how upset Achraf is gonna be.

“Say what now ? You met in an accident !” He yelled on the other side. “Don’t stress, I’m okay. I thought mum would’ve called” I held back a laugh. “She did, I have like 5 missed calls from her and like 10 messages but I was more concerned why you weren’t here. Are you sure you’re okay ? I don’t think you are” he said worried. “I’m fine, really” I tried to ease his mind from stressing. “Please send me your location and send me pictures of the accident. I’m coming to you right now with Kylian” he ordered. Damn it. “I’m telling you to chill out because it’s-“ I argued. “Shut up please, gosh why are you so stubborn. Send me your location. Bye” he said lastly as he ended the call. I shook my head as I texted him my location.

I exchanged details with both drivers and we patiently waited till someone came over to fetch us. Of course my brother comes first and he’s here within 5 minutes. “Oh my god” Achraf said in shock as he took a quick glance at the car. “Are you okay ? Look at your forehead ! It’s red and looks like it’s swelling up !” He argued. “And you said you were okay” he mocked. Kylian came up from behind him and looked at me in shock. Do I look that bad ?

“Yes” “No” both of them said at the same time. Damn did I speak out loud ? “Why are we still standing here, we need to go to the hospital !” Achraf said. “But what about the car ?” I pouted. As if on queue, someone arrived to tow my car. Both Kylian and Achraf pulled me by my arms into the car, seating me in between them. “You guys are being so dramatic gosh” I rolled my eyes. “Have you taken a look in the mirror ?” Achraf raised a brow. “Uhm no. Should I ?” I asked concerned. “No no, you rather not” Kylian said from beside me. “It can’t be that bad” I scoffed as I opened my front camera.

My smile dropped and so did my heart when I saw the redness on my forehead as well as the slight swelling. My emotions took over as the tears welled up in my eyes and I burst out crying. “Oh my god I look terrible !” I sobbed. “(Y/N/N) stop crying. You’ll be fine and the swelling will be gone by tomorrow” Achraf said as he rubbed my back. “Don’t cry please” Kylian said as he pulled me in for a hug and rubbed my arm to try to calm me down. It actually helped.

As we reached the hospital, I was taken straight to the ER. I thought I was going alone to see the doctor but no. Kylian decided to join me since Achraf was sorting out the paper work and was keeping our mum updated. After the doctor consulted me, he prescribed me some medication and gave me an ice pack for now to quickly ease the swelling. Once he left the room, it was just Kylian and I. Pure silence - comforting but not awkward.

He walked from across the room to stand in front of me, I had no choice but to make eye contact with him. “I’m sorry” he sighed. “For ?” I furrowed my brows. “For saying something so stupid the other day. It was meant to be a joke and I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings” he pouted. “It’s okay. I’m also sorry for snapping at you” I pursed my lips. “Don’t apologise, I deserved it” he half laughed. “Yeah you kinda did” I smiled. “I have to admit…these past 2 weeks have been terrible” he said as he took a seat next to me. “And why’s that ?” I asked. “Because I haven’t been talking to you… I know we play fight a lot but please don’t deny that deep down you feel something too. I missed your voice, I missed your smile, your laugh and especially seeing you angry”

“I hate to admit, but I feel the same way” I smiled. “Wait really ?” He said in shock. I nodded my head in reassurance. “That made my day…I’m sorry for the bad timing to drop this news to you. I swear I’ll make it up to you mon amour” he smiled as he then kissed my forehead. “Ky, my head is already buzzing from this accident. I can’t get butterflies too” I tried to not grin. “It’s okay, I’ll make the butterflies overpower the headache” he said as then peppered kisses all over my face.

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threewaywithdelusion · 8 months

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Steve & Robin Bodyswap AU

I'm probably never going to finish this fic because I struggle with follow-through on long fics, but I enjoy this section so I thought I'd post it. At this point, it's September 1986 and Steve and Robin have been body-swapping for about a month (they can't control when it happens). Trigger warnings for homophobia and use of the word queer as a slur.

When the dizzy feeling passed, Robin was in Steve’s body, looking into his bathroom mirror. She was almost naked, only a towel around her waist, and it looked like Steve had been halfway through his hair routine. Robin sighed and picked up Steve’s hairspray and a comb, trying to finish creating Steve’s famous hairstyle. It was harder than Steve made it look, and when she finished it looked a little off-center somehow, like it had melted a little to the side. Was his hair longer than before? Whatever. This was as good as she could get it, so Steve would have to live with it.

The phone rang as Robin returned to the bedroom.

“Hello?” Robin answered.

“Hey,” Steve said. “Do you remember where you’re going tonight?”

“No,” Robin said. “I was planning on doing my English paper and then repainting my nails. I didn’t think we’d switch so late in the day.”

Steve sighed. “Me neither. That’s why I scheduled a date.”

“A date!” Robin shrieked.

She couldn’t go on a date. With a girl. As Steve Harrington.

“Yeah,” Steve said, sounding guilty. “Listen. Her name is Jenny and you’re supposed to pick her up at seven. Her address is written on a post-it on the kitchen table.”

“Steve,” Robin said. “I can’t go on this date.”

“Why not?”

“Why not? Because I’m not you! Because she wants to go on a date with Mr. Cool and not some band nerd who rambles when she’s nervous, like, I don’t know, when she’s in front of a pretty girl. I can’t go on my first date with a girl in your body! And I can’t drive! I’ll crash the car and kill us both.”

“You’re not so bad anymore,” Steve said. “At worst, you’ll get into a fender-bender.”

“And what about all the other reasons this is a terrible idea?” Robin demanded.

“Do you actually mind?” Steve asked, voice small. “Going on your first date with a girl in my body?”

She knew if she said yes, he would let her cancel. But there was something vulnerable in his voice and that made her stop and think.

Did she mind? For the past three years, Robin had been dreaming of going on a date with a girl. She’d imagined what it would be like to hold a door open for a girl, to hold hands under the table, to giggle at her jokes and maybe even get a kiss at the end of the night. And she’d imagined doing all that in her own body, with someone who was into her.

Part of her wanted that. Part of her was holding onto that dream of an ideal first date, the way some girls dreamed of a perfect first time.

But also, Robin had never gone on a date with a girl because she lived in Hawkins. She probably wouldn’t get to go on a date until after she graduated and moved away. Maybe this was her chance to go on a date with a girl. It might not fully count, but it would still be her on the date. Her and this girl. It could at least be good practice for her real first date.

“I don’t mind,” Robin said. “But Steve, I’m going to ruin this.”

“You’re not going to ruin anything,” Steve said. “Just be yourself. Or, well, maybe not yourself, cause you’re supposed to be me. But you’ll be fine!”

Robin groaned. “Steeeeve.”

“It’ll be fine!”

“You won’t be mad at me if I totally tank your date, right?”

“No,” Steve said. “You’re going on a date for me. That’s like, really nice, even if it goes wrong. No one’s ever done that for me before.”

Robin snorted. “Well I would hope not, Dingus. If you’d been bodyswapping with someone else and you hadn’t brought it up by now, I’d be pissed.”

Steve laughed. “Nah, no other bodyswappers. I still think it was the Russian drugs.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t the drugs!”

“It totally was!”

Robin eyed the clock on Steve’s bedside table. “I have to go if I’m going to make it to your date on time.” Especially if she drove at Robin-speed to pick the girl up.

“Okay,” Steve said. “Remember, her name is Jenny and her address is on the kitchen table. I’ll start the rough draft of your essay and then you can fix it tomorrow.”

Robin winced. Steve seemed to be enjoying school more now that he was in her body and his dyslexia didn’t get in the way, but he was still a terrible essay writer. There probably wouldn’t be much usable material in whatever he wrote, but she appreciated that he was trying to take the burden of half her schoolwork.

“Thanks,” she said. “Maybe just do an outline?”

Steve paused for a moment. When he spoke again, there was something off about his voice. “Yeah, okay.”

Robin wanted to push, but she really didn’t have time and her stomach was already starting to churn with nerves at the idea of going on a date. She said her goodbyes and hung up the phone before going to Steve’s closet. She didn’t know how to dress for a date, especially as a boy, but presumably Jenny wanted to go out with Steve, so Robin pulled out jeans and a polo. She winced as she looked in the mirror, King Steve staring back. Swoopy hair, pretentious polo, and handsome face – all looking horribly out of place with Robin in his body, shoulders slumping in uncomfortably.

Robin looked away.

She found the post-in on the kitchen and Steve’s keys on the hook by the front door before sliding nervously behind the wheel of Steve’s car. She took a deep breath and slid the key into the ignition, backing painfully slowly out of the driveway. Her nerves increased as she drove, building like a knot in her stomach. It was so odd how Steve’s body handled nervousness. In her own body, Robin would be bouncing, or pacing, or flapping her hands, anything to expel this nervous energy. When Robin was anxious, she needed to move, to babble, to get it all out.

Steve’s body held onto anxiety, using it to twist his insides tighter and tighter. His shoulders ached from the tension he held and his heart started pounding and the idea of moving didn’t feel helpful, not to the body Robin was in.

But she wanted to move, and the mixed signals just added to the confused anxiety in her body.

When she arrived at Jenny’s house, she had to knock at the door. Luckily, a girl opened it, dressed nicely and looking the right age to be Steve’s date.

This was confirmed when the girl smiled and said, “Hi, Steve.”

“Hi,” Robin said. Way to go Steve! Jenny was pretty, long blonde curls and big blue eyes. She was wearing a sundress with a square neckline that drew attention to the line of her collarbones, and a short skirt that revealed long, smooth legs, tan from the summer sun. Her hands, fiddling with the hem of her dress, were decorated by thin gold rings on each finger.

“Like what you see?”

Robin flinched before she registered Jenny’s teasing tone.

Jenny was flirting. She thought she was being eyed by Steve Harrington and she liked it, so she was teasing him for staring.

But it wasn’t Steve. It was Robin, admiring a pretty girl. Robin, who lived in fear of being caught staring and being chased out of town by an angry mob with pitchforks and crosses and Save the Children posters.

Robin managed a shaky smile for Jenny. “You look really pretty.”

Jenny looked pleased. She called a goodbye into the house and followed Robin to the car. Robin took a deep breath as she slid behind the wheel again.

“How was your day?” Jenny asked.

“Good,” Robin said. She’d gone to work this morning as Steve, then finished the afternoon at school as herself. She’d gone to band practice, where they had started a new song. But that wasn’t what Steve had done with his day. Or, well, it wouldn’t have been if they weren’t swapping bodies. Steve had graduated. “I had work.”

“What made you want to work at Family Video?” Jenny asked.

Robin couldn’t answer for a moment, focused on making a left turn. Then there was a pothole to swerve and a stop sign to navigate. By the time Robin thought of Jenny’s question again, the silence was awkward and heavy.

“Uh, movies?” Robin said. “Yeah, I, uh, like movies. Big movie fan.”

She wished she could see Jenny’s expression, but Robin had to watch the road.

“Okay,” Jenny said slowly, sounding skeptical. “What movies do you like?”

“Grease,” Robin said, naming one of Steve’s favorites. “

“Oh I love Grease!” Jenny said. “It’s so romantic, isn’t it?”

Robin hated Grease. She thought it was patriarchal and ridiculous and taught women that they should change to win the love of men who treated them badly. Sure, Sandy looked hot at the end, but it came at the cost of her personality and autonomy and self-expression. Robin hated the idea that a girl was supposed to conform to what a guy wanted of her. Why couldn’t Danny be the one to change?

“Yeah, it’s romantic,” Robin said.

They hit a curb as she took a turn and Jenny let out a little yelp. Robin refocused on the road.

“Sorry,” she said. “I, uh, ran out of contacts? And lost my glasses? I don’t think I can talk and drive right now.”

“Oh,” Jenny said, sounding nervous and unimpressed. That was fair. Robin wouldn’t like it if the guy driving her around said he couldn’t see shit. “Yeah, sure.”

They drove in silence until they got to the diner.

[Jenny asks about basketball and robin fumbles her way through answers]

[They kiss goodnight on Jenny’s doorstep]

As soon as Jenny entered her house, Robin felt her face crumple. She retreated to the car and drove back to Steve’s house, shaking a little. She wanted to cry, but Steve’s body wouldn’t. There was a lump in her throat and an ache in her chest, but her eyes were dry.

She hated this. She hated that the date had gone so badly. She hated that her first kiss had been stolen. That it hadn’t been her Jenny had wanted to kiss and it hadn’t been her lips that had been kissed. She hated that Steve had sent her on this date. She hated that she’d agreed. She hated Steve’s stupid body, which wasn’t hers and was foreign and masculine and wouldn’t even fucking cry when she wanted it to.

Robin parked and stormed into Steve’s house. She slammed the door behind her, which felt good, so she did it a few more times. Slam. Slam. Slam. When she felt out of breath, she collapsed against the entryway wall.

Steve’s reflection stared back at her from the mirror above the key hooks.

She couldn’t take it. She ran up the stairs, bypassing Steve’s bedroom and entering his parents’ room. She’d never been in here before because Steve acted like it was forbidden, but she didn’t care right now. She found Mrs. Harrington’s vanity and started ripping the drawers open, upending makeup and hair supplies until she found several bottles of nail polish.

They were all boring pinks and reds, exactly what a housewife would wear, but Robin grabbed the darkest red and took it downstairs. She grabbed a David Bowie record and blasted it, propping her hands on her thighs and starting to paint her nails. Her hands were shaking, but she stubbornly pushed through, trying to paint a neat maroon coat onto Steve’s nails.

She stopped and stared after she finished the first hand.

It was Steve’s hand still, broad and square-fingered, but it felt better with the nail polish. A bit more feminine.

Robin had spent so long in her own body trying to express herself without femininity. She didn’t like dresses or skirts or long hair. Her makeup was smudgy and her jewelry chunky and she liked to look good but not in a girly-girl way.

In Steve’s body though, she felt like she had to compensate for its masculinity. She was still a girl, even if she wasn’t a girly one, and seeing a man staring back at her in the mirror was uncomfortable. She wanted to put Steve’s body in a dress and grow out his hair and do his makeup. But that all felt like a violation of Steve’s will for what he wanted to do with his body. She was just a guest here – she couldn’t change anything he couldn’t quickly change back. Even if she spent a solid half of her waking hours in this body.

Steve’s hand looked good in maroon nail polish. It felt a bit more like hers.

***

Steve woke up in his own body, which was rare these days.

He was in his bed and he had a headache, which wasn’t that unusual. But it wasn’t a spike of pain in his skull, no oncoming migraine. This felt like a headache from crying.

Steve went to the bathroom mirror and squinted at his reflection. Maybe Robin had a point and Steve should get glasses. His bad eyesight was much more noticeable and annoying when he spent half his time looking at the world through Robin’s 20/20 eyes.

With just a little squinting though, Steve found that he was right; his eyes were red. Robin had been crying.

Steve’s heart sank. He’d thought Robin would call after the date yesterday, but he hadn’t heard from her. He hadn’t heard from her, and she had cried herself to sleep. What had happened?

He’d been kind of happy when Robin hadn’t called, which he felt bad about. But she hadn’t wanted him to write a draft of her paper, just an outline. It was stupid to be upset about that. But for the first time in his life, Steve was following what was happening in Robin’s English and history classes. They were way more interesting when he could read without getting frustrated, and he’d wanted to write the paper to help Robin but also to see what he could do when he actually understood the book.

But Robin didn’t think he was smart enough to write her essay.

Which was fine, obviously, Steve knew that Robin was way smarter than him. He shouldn’t be upset just because Robin knew that too.

It was fine. The problem was that something had made Robin cry.

He was picking her up for school, so he would ask on the drive.

Steve started getting ready, brushing his teeth and doing his hair. There was too much hairspray in it, the way there usually was when Robin had been the last one to style it, so he brushed it through a bit extra to try to get some of the stiffness out.

There was also nail polish on his fingers.

Steve stopped for a long moment to stare. The nail polish was pretty, a dark red color and super smooth. Steve had tried to paint Robin’s nails last night and he’d done a much worse job, getting nail polish all over her skin and accidentally making it lumpy and full of bubbles.

But on Steve’s hands, the polish was neat and smooth and elegant. Steve had never had his nails painted before, but it was pretty. He liked it.

Maybe Steve shouldn’t have painted Robin’s nails. He’d been under the impression that Robin hated the process of painting her nails – always complaining about having to sit still while they dried. But if she liked it enough to do it in Steve’s body, maybe he should have let her paint her own.

Steve grabbed his work vest and a granola bar and drove to Robin’s house. She came out the door in a hurry, jacket half-on, shouting something back at her parents. But she was quiet as she got in the car. She barely said hello before busying herself looking through Steve’s tapes.

Steve frowned. “Robin? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Robin said. “I’m fine. Just tired, you know?”

Steve had gone to bed early last night, which meant Robin’s body shouldn’t be tired. He didn’t say that.

“How did the date go?”

Robin froze, only for a second, but it was noticeable given how she was always in motion. “It was okay. She said you should call her.”

“That sounds pretty good,” Steve said tentatively.

“Yeah,” Robin said. She put in a tape and turned the volume up.

Dread started to grow in Steve’s stomach. He waited until he’d pulled into Dustin’s driveway and honked to turn down the music. Dustin always took a minute to come out.

“Did I overstep?” Steve asked quietly.

“What do you mean?” Robin asked. She was fiddling with her bracelets, and Steve suddenly realized she hadn’t even looked at him since getting in the car.

“When I asked you to go on the date for me. Was that too much?”

Robin still didn’t look at him. “Steve-”

“Hey!” Dustin said loudly, climbing into the backseat. “You won’t believe what happened in our campaign last night. So we were in this forest, right, and then Eddie had this really suspicious looking dwarf show up-”

Dustin kept babbling about his campaign all the way to the school and Steve tried to react in the appropriate places. He had no idea what was happening in the story because Dustin used way too many words that Steve was pretty sure didn’t exist. But he’d already hurt Robin somehow; he didn’t want to hurt Dustin as well.

Steve dropped them both at school — Robin leaving with a little “bye” and Dustin still rambling on his way out of the car — and went to work. He was the only one working until Robin got on in the afternoon, so it was pretty boring. A few housewives came in, but mostly Steve rewound and reshelved tapes. He contemplated actually cleaning, but decided he wasn’t bored enough to do that and ended up tapping his fingers idly on the counter as he half-paid attention to the children’s movie that was playing on the tv.

Today, of all days, Steve didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts.

What had gone so wrong? He’d asked Robin if she was okay with going on the date and she had said yes. But she hadn’t called and she couldn’t even look at him this morning. That had never happened before. They had bickered back when they’d been getting to know each other at Scoops Ahoy, but they’d never had a real fight.

All Steve could think of was Nancy. Nancy, pulling away because Steve couldn’t be what she needed. Nancy, who Steve had hurt without even realizing it. Nancy, who Steve had loved and who he had lost because he was bullshit.

He couldn’t be bullshit with Robin. He’d thought he was safe from ruining this because they were friends and they’d felt mind-melded even before the body swapping had started.

But Steve had clearly done something wrong. He had to figure out what it was and fix it before he lost Robin.

A man came in, dressed in a suit, clearly on his lunch break. Steve tracked him as he wandered the shelves, but the man didn’t seem to need any help, quickly finding a movie and bringing it up to the counter.

It was [romance movie].

“It’s for my wife,” the man said, as if he thought Steve was judging him.

“That’s romantic,” Steve said. “Can I get your name?”

“Johnny Richards,” the man said. “My wife’s upset I had to work late the past month. It’s not my fault! I work for the mayor’s office and we’re still dealing with the fallout of that fucking mall fire.”

Steve’s customer service smile turned even more frozen. He mechanically pulled up the man’s profile. Johnny Richards’ account had a few action movies, some chick flicks, and a lot of pornography.

Steve tried to change the topic to Johnny’s wife again. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate a movie date night. This one’s a good choice.”

He flashed Johnny Richards another customer service smile as he scanned the movie, but Johnny wasn’t looking at his face. He was watching Steve’s hands.

“That’ll be three dollars,” Steve said.

Johnny’s eyes flashed to his, lips curled back in a sneer. “You a queer?”

Steve blinked in confusion. “What?”

“You. A. Queer?” Johnny repeated.

Steve’s muscles locked at the word and at the tone the man was using. He automatically looked for Robin, trying to make sure he was between her and the threat, before he remembered that she was at school.

“No?” Steve said. He didn’t sound confident, which he knew was a mistake, but he was really confused.

“No?” The man mocked. “Then why are you painting your nails like one?”

Oh. Steve glanced down at his hands, at the red color on his nails. He’d kept it on when he’d left the house because he liked it and because Robin had been the one to paint them, but he’d been too preoccupied to think his decision through.

He should have known better than to wear nail polish in Hawkins, Indiana.

“I didn’t paint them,” Steve said. “My friend did. She, um, wanted to practice.”

Johnny gave Steve a disdainful look. “Acting like a pussy isn’t going to get you any girls. If she’s painting your nails, you’re stuck in the friend zone — you don’t have to give her your dignity as well. Have some self-respect and stop looking like a goddamn queer.”

“I’m not a queer,” Steve protested.

“Just some friendly advice,” Johnny said. “Better you hear it from me, than someone who wouldn’t be so nice.”

It sounded so much like something Steve’s father would say that he gave an automatic, “Yes, sir.”

Johnny Richards nodded, like that was the reaction he’d been hoping for. He slapped three dollars on the counter, far from Steve’s hand as if he didn’t want to touch him, then grabbed the tape and walked out.

Steve felt hot all over, shame and embarrassment and something else filling him. He felt dirty, like he shouldn’t have liked having his nails done.

He was a boy. He wasn’t supposed to like girly things. Even if he was a girl half the time, when he was in Robin’s body and she was in his.

He didn’t mind being in Robin’s body. He didn’t mind her longer hair, or her painted nails, or her makeup, even when it was on him. He liked wearing her clothes, even though most of it wasn’t his style and he wished he could get some nice blouses and skirts.

But that was all when he was in Robin’s body. He was allowed to like those things when he was a girl. He had been stupid to think he could get away with painted nails as a boy.

Steve was still shaking. He felt awful, like he’d been through something worse than a few mean comments from a stranger. The kind of comments he himself had made in the past.

If this was how everyone he had bullied had felt, maybe he deserved to feel this way.

Steve kept his fingers curled as he helped the next few customers, hiding his nails from sight.

By the time Robin showed up for her afternoon shift, Steve was able to act sufficiently normal. Robin was still half-avoiding him, but it was Friday afternoon and they were ridiculously busy trying to rent out movies for the weekend.

Steve waited until they were alone in the store, closing up, to say “Can you please come over? I want to talk.”

“Okay,” Robin said to the ground. But she got in the car with him and let him drive her to his house.

They took their shoes off by the entryway and made their way to the kitchen, moving seamlessly to make dinner. They were both comfortable moving around Steve’s kitchen as if they lived there, because they both lived there.

Steve almost added peas to his own plate before he remembered that he hated peas. They only tasted good when he was Robin.

When they were both picking at their reheated lasagne, Steve said, “I’m sorry.”

Robin’s head jerked up, a bewildered look on her face.

“I’m sorry,” Steve repeated. He hadn’t said those words much the first sixteen years of his life. But he’d say them a million times now if that’s what it took to get Robin to forgive him.

“For what?” Robin asked.

Was this a test? Steve’s mother did that sometimes, made him explain what he was apologizing for so she could scoff in his face and tell him that wasn’t why she was mad and to try again.

“For asking you to go on that date for me?” Steve guessed.

Robin didn’t look happy with that answer.

“I don’t know,” Steve quickly admitted. Sometimes it was better to just get it over with. She could explain how he’d fucked up and then she could yell and then he could apologize and hopefully they would be okay. “I’m sorry for being so stupid that I don’t know what I did, I guess. But I didn’t mean you make you mad. Or sad? And I’m really sorry.”

“I’m not mad at you,” Robin said, sounding angry.

Steve hesitated. This felt like a bad idea, but “You seem mad.”

“I am, but not at you.”

“Then why haven’t you looked at me all day?”

Robin growled and got to her feet, starting to pace. “It’s complicated, okay? I’m mad at your stupid body, and you’re in it right now. And I’m mad at this whole situation. It fucking sucks, okay?”

Steve didn’t know how to fix the situation. They had hit a dead end with everything they had tried, and unless El got her powers back, their only possible next step was to trust the government scientists. Call Steve crazy, but even before the Russians he hadn’t trusted government scientists, especially ones who had experimented on a little girl for her powers.

So he focused on the part he maybe could fix. “Why are you mad at my body?”

Robin spun on her heel, still pacing, arm flying as she tried to explain. “It just feels all… off. Wrong. Like, I’m a girl and I hate being trapped in a boy’s body. I hate being perceived as a man. Don’t you feel the same when you’re in my body? Like it’s wrong being a girl?”

No, Steve didn’t. But that probably wasn’t helpful to say right now. And it was weird. Shameful.

If Robin didn’t like boy stuff when she was in Steve’s body, why did he like girl stuff when he was in hers?

“I guess I didn’t think about it so much,” Steve lied.

“It’s just… ugh! It makes my skin crawl,” Robin said. “And I hate that we switch so much and we can’t control it. I feel like I’m missing my life. I missed my first day of senior year. I barely ever see my parents anymore, and I miss them. They’re threatening to kick me out of band because I’ve missed so many rehearsals, but you can’t play the trumpet so I don’t know what else we’re supposed to do. And I hate never being able to make plans with anyone but the kids because no one else knows about the body-swapping and I can’t ever guarantee I’m going to be in my own body.”

That was a lot. Steve had no idea how to fix any of that. He hadn’t really been bothered by the switching — his only friends all knew about the Upside Down, so if he showed up in Robin’s body to plans he’d made as Steve, no one batted an eye.

But Robin was different. Robin had a life outside of him and the kids. She had friends and school and band and parents who loved her.

Of course she would feel like she was missing out on her life.

“And!” Robin continued, still pacing. “I fucking hated that date. I didn’t know how to drive and I didn’t know what to say. She kept expecting me to be you, and she kept looking all awkward and put-off whenever I answered something like me. And I don’t know a thing about basketball and I hate Grease!”

“Why would you hate-”

“And she kissed me,” Robin said.

Steve went quiet.

There were tears in Robin’s eyes.

“It was the end of the date and she just kissed me, even though the date sucked. Even though she hated every part of me that was actually me. And I’ve never kissed anyone before. It was my first kiss, and it was with a girl, but I was a boy and I was you and she didn’t even like me.”

Robin started crying.

Steve didn’t know what else to do, so he pulled her into a hug and let her sob into his shoulder.

“I never thought I’d get to kiss a girl,” Robin said hoarsely. “Or at least not while I was in Hawkins. And then I did and it was all wrong.”

There was so much pain in her voice and it was all Steve’s fault. He never should have asked her to go on that stupid date. He could have just rescheduled instead of putting her in that position.

She’d said she wasn’t mad at him, but maybe she had just been lying to spare Steve’s feelings. This was all his fault.

He would have to find a way to fix it. He wasn’t sure how yet, but he would do it.

Eventually, Robin stopped crying. She pulled out of Steve’s hug, grabbing his hands instead and swinging them between them, looking down so she wouldn’t have to meet his eyes.

Then she froze, lifting Steve’s hands to her face. Steve tensed for a moment, thinking of the man from Family Video, before he remembered that this was Robin. She wasn’t going to judge him. She was the one who’d painted his nails in the first place.

“You kept it on,” Robin said.

“Yeah,” Steve said.

“You didn’t have to,” Robin said. “Why would you do that?”

Steve shrugged.

“You can take it off, if you want,” Robin said. “I didn’t mean to stick you with it after we switched back. I just needed to do something to make your body feel more like me.”

Because Robin hated being in Steve’s body. He understood that much, at least. His body came with headaches and a deaf ear and blurry eyesight and dyslexia. And maleness, which Steve hadn’t realized would be strange for Robin.

“I can keep it on,” Steve said. “If it makes you more comfortable when we switch.”

Robin bit her lip, looking hesitant. “It’s still your body, Steve. I don’t want to make it comfortable for me by making it uncomfortable for you.”

Steve was all twisted up inside. He didn’t know how he felt about the nail polish. “I don’t mind it. I can keep it on.”

Robin still hesitated. “People might be… mean. If you keep it on.”

Steve felt hot all over again. Off-balance.

But what could he say? He couldn’t complain to Robin of all people that he’d gotten called a queer today at work. He would sound like a whiny, self-centered dick. He knew Robin had gotten called slurs before. And it was worse, because for her they were actually true.

He was just being a baby about this. He had to toughen up and get over it.

“Please,” he said forcing a smile. “Nobody’s going to say anything to Steve Harrington.”

Robin scanned his face, like she was checking if he was sure, and he gave her his best over-confident smirk, a look he hadn’t really pulled out since the King Steve days.

Maybe it was because he’d never used this expression on Robin before, but she seemed to believe it. She smiled back at him and he could see that it was real.

“Thanks, Steve,” she said. “We should get more bottles though. I’m not sure maroon is really your color.”

Steve pretended to be offended. “But I want to match my baby.”

“Your baby?” Robin asked, eyebrows up.

“My car,” Steve said.

Robin moaned. “Ugh. It’s bad enough you have a picture of a car hanging in your room. You are not allowed to start calling your car your baby, Steve. I will disown you.”

“You can’t disown me! You literally are me half the time.”

“I can and will disown you,” Robin countered. “I’ll be disowning you as a person, not your body, so I’ll just ignore you. Unless you act normal about cars. No calling them baby, or calling yourself their daddy. That might have been the most traumatizing part of Starcourt, really.”

“That was the most traumatizing part of Starcourt,” Steve repeated incredulously, putting his hands on his hips.

“Yep,” Robin said, nodding firmly. “That was the most traumatizing part.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I’ll think about acting normal. You staying over?”

“I guess I should, at this point,” Robin said. “Let me just call my parents.”

Steve caught Robin’s arm as she moved to the phone. “You don’t have to stay. If you miss your parents and you want to see them, you should go home.”

It hurt to say. Steve didn’t want Robin to go. He didn’t want to be alone in his house after being alone at the store all day.

Maybe Robin could see that, because her expression softened. “No,” she said. “I’ll stay.”

They fell asleep together, Steve finding it much easier to keep the nightmares at bay when he knew Robin was by his side, safe from Russians and monsters.

He woke up in Robin’s body, wrapped in his own arms.

***

Steve and Robin spent the weekend together.

Robin felt terrible about making Steve feel bad. She hadn’t meant to take her anger out on him — she was mad at him, but he hadn’t done anything wrong. He never would have pushed her to go on the stupid date if she’d said no and it wasn’t his fault they were swapping bodies.

But it was Robin’s fault that Steve had had that look on his face — fearful and desperate and apologetic, like he was afraid that he had irreparably damaged their friendship.

Sometimes Robin forgot that Steve was as desperate to keep her as she was to keep him. Sometimes a mean little voice in her brain whispered that he was Steve Harrington, that he’d been cool and popular and he had known how to get people to like him. That even now, he was worshipped by a pack of feral children and he was generous and selfless and funny and interesting and that anyone would be lucky to be his friend. He didn’t have to settle for Robin, who couldn’t read social cues and rambled way too much and had never had a real friend before Steve.

She hated that voice in her head. It was a liar and it was mean to both him and her. Steve might have been popular, but he had never had a close friend before Robin (or maybe Dustin) either. He might be adored by his kids, but he had no friends his own age. And he was incredible in a million ways, but he also thought Robin was incredible and he told her all the time, calling her funny and brave and smart like he didn’t care that she was a socially inept nerd.

She hadn’t meant to hurt him. She hadn’t realized that quietly seething — at him, a little, but also at the injustice of this whole situation — would hurt him more than outright telling him she was upset.

She should have known better. She knew what had happened in his relationship with Nancy, and while she was nothing like Nancy Wheeler and she definitely wasn’t dating Steve, she knew Steve had a fear of being unintentionally terrible to the people he loved.

He had never been terrible to her, not even once, not even when she’d rejected him or come out to him or made him suffer through period cramps in her body.

But Robin had been terrible to Steve, on purpose at first when she’d been forced to work with King Steve at Scoops Ahoy and then unintentionally a few times, like yesterday, when she hadn’t taken enough care with Steve’s emotions.

Robin decided to make it up to him. On Saturday morning they cooked breakfast together, making blueberry pancakes and coffee. Then Robin helped Steve re-do the nails he’d painted on her body, showing him how to get the air bubbles out and how to paint it in coats so it could dry in between. Steve watched attentively and held Robin’s hands up proudly when he was done.

They hung out with the gremlins Saturday afternoon. Back in their own bodies, Steve taught Lucas how to shoot hoops while Robin played a vicious game of Monopoly against Dustin and Mike.

“How come your nails are red?” Dustin asked Steve when Steve and Lucas came in from the driveway, sweaty and panting.

“I painted them,” Robin said. Mike landed on Park Place and Robin grinned as she charged him an exorbitant amount of money. Capitalism was so fun when it was fictional and she was winning.

“Isn’t that weird though?” Mike asked. “Having your nails painted?”

Steve tensed. Robin had been waiting for the moment he gave up on the painted nails as too feminine or too gay, and apparently Mike’s question was that moment. Robin had honestly thought he would last until at least Monday.

“Munson has his nails painted,” Steve said cattily, which wasn’t what Robin had expected at all.

Mike rolled his eyes. “Yeah, cause it’s metal. You’re too preppy to pull off painted nails.”

Steve looked a little dumbfounded and Robin hid a grin. Apparently the kids’ problem wasn’t with a man having his nails painted, it was with Steve doing it.

“Steve’s metal,” Lucas said.

Mike scoffed. “How?”

“He has a bat full of nails,” Lucas said reasonably. “That’s pretty metal.”

“See, Wheeler?” Steve boasted. “I’m metal enough to paint my nails.”

Mike scowled. “I’m more metal than you are.”

They all looked at Mike, scrawny as a beanpole and dressed in horrifically mismatched clothing. Robin felt a bit blinded by the bright colors he was wearing.

Dustin was the first one to start laughing, but they all eventually joined in.

Mike grumbled, crossing his arms defensively. “Will would’ve agreed with me.”

“You mean he would have lied to spare your feelings,” Dustin teased.

Mike yelped and launched a pillow at Dustin, who threw one back, and then they were all engaged in a pillow fight with Steve’s mom’s fancy throw pillows. Robin used to opportunity to whack at Mike and Dustin, who were objectively the most annoying of the children. She was about to get Dustin from behind when all of a sudden she was looming over Lucas, all the way across the room.

Robin lost her balance and fell, straight onto Lucas, who let out a high-pitched yelp as her elbows and knees hit him.

“Sorry,” Robin gasped, rolling off him. “I didn’t know Steve was doing fucking acrobatics during a pillow fight.”

Lucas’s head jerked sharply. “Woah. Robin?”

Robin nodded.

Lucas smiled and lifted a pillow, smacking it across Robin’s face. As Robin sputtered, he said “that’s for using illegal weapons in a pillow fight. No elbows!”

“Oh, you’re on, Sinclair.”

As Robin tried to murder Lucas with a pillow, she thought that this was what she was missing in the rest of her life; people who watched her switch bodies with Steve and then just kept going like it was normal. She hated dropping into her body in the middle of a customer interaction at Family Video, when the customer would get mad at having to repeat the name of the movie they were looking for. She hated dropping into her body mid-conversation with Kate, unsure what the hell they were talking about and getting weird looks for babbling more off-topic than usual. She hated her inability to know where she was going to be at any given minute, or who she was going to be.

But with Steve’s kids, who’d been to hell and back and didn’t think a bit of body-swapping was the weirdest thing they’d ever seen, she almost felt normal.

“Let’s get Steve,” Robin whispered to Lucas. They crept up behind Steve — which was so weird, watching the back of her own head as Steve used her body to fight off Dustin and Mike — and jumped at him, whacking him with pillows.

Steve shrieked — high-pitched with Robin’s vocal cords — and spun, narrowing his eyes at Robin in his body.

“Oh, it’s on, Buckley.”

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #Steve harrington #robin buckley #stobin #mia writes fanfic #Stobin bodyswap AU

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fleetingofthegretas · 10 months

Text

Slow or fast? Danny Wagner x reader

Preview: Your boyfriend Danny Wagner, the drummer of Greta Van Fleet invites you to the bar with his bandmates but you decline, having to get things done around the house. Your boyfriend returns home drunk as ever & comes home with one thing in mind, one thing that he wants. You. How can you say no to your greek god of a boyfriend? Not to mention what you know will happen when you wake up, some fluff & sweetness with a side of hangover to fill your morning.

MENTIONS OF/ TW: !Drunks3x, fluff, Oral M receiving, teasing

November. Its a calm chilly day in the city of Nashville, Tennessee where you reside with your boyfriend Daniel. You're home alone, despite the company of your old grumpy cat, Greta. Danny gave you Greta as a valentines day gift when you hit 2 years of dating. Seems like it was just yesterday when she became a new edition to your small little family you were slowly building.

A smile creeps upon your lips as you recall the memory of when he brought your sweet kitty home. You were stuck in Traffic so you had shown up after Danny was already home. You walked into your house to see Danny sitting on the couch with a huge smile on his face.

"Hey honey sorry I'm late I totally got caught behind an accident. Just looked like a fender bender so I don't think anyone was hurt. What's up with that smirk on your face? What did you do?"

He erupts with laughter at your remark. "I didn't do anything sweet girl. I did get you a gift though".

He scoops you up in his arms and lays you on your shared bed.

"Oh? Is this the gift?" You ask as you start to undo his belt, looking up at him with big eyes.

Something furry rubs against your back scaring you halfway to death. You immediately drop your hands from his belt to see what the heck is with you in bed, only to see its the elder cat you've been keeping an eye on at the nearby shelter for the past few months.

"Daniel oh my god! When did you get her??"

"Last night before I came home. I had forgotten what you said her name was but I did remember that she was gray and orange. They only had 2 gray & orange cats but the other one was a kitten, so I decided to get the older one instead. Funnily enough her shelter name was Greta, so I felt like it was meant to be."

"Where was she this whole time? & how did you know I wanted the older one instead of the kitten?"

"Well I asked if any of the boys could watch her just while I waited to finally surprise you. Sam of course replied with he hates cats, and Josh just never answered his phone. Jake ended up offering to take her in for the night. I think he secretly loves cats and doesn't want to admit it. As for getting the older cat instead of a kitten, that's because kittens will get adopted faster than the elders, and I had seen that Greta was at the shelter for so long, I figured you and I could give her a new life".

"Oh Daniel you are too kind for this world. I think I want to keep her name as Greta, it seems to fit her and you're right. It is meant to be".

Gray and orange fur rubs against your foot, waking you up from your daydream. You glance at the clock which loudly reads 3pm. 2 more hours till Danny gets home. Luckily you have a lot to do today which keeps your mind occupied. The entire day you've been out and about. At 10 you had brunch with your friends, just catching up and drinking mimosas together. By 12 you were shopping on your own getting things for the house. You had an odd list of things you and Danny needed.

Avocados, Planter pots, Organizing containers, guitar picks, toothpaste, and laundry detergent

You smirk a bit at 'guitar picks' in Danny's messy handwriting, probably written this morning when he was rushing out the door to meet at the studio with the boys.

Danny's guitar picks have been going m.i.a. recently as Greta has found a new love for smacking them off the coffee table and scattering them around the house.

You are so focused on repotting plants & putting your shared record collection into new organizers that you don't even hear the door open. Before you know it, you feel two strong arms wrap around your waist and pick you up off the floor, making you scream.

"Hi babygirl I've missed you, crazy day in the studio" He sets you down to give you a quick kiss.

"I've missed you too! Could've used your help reaching the box of screws in the garage today, I hate using the stool. I'd rather just have a big tall man like you to get it for me" You give your biggest pout you can and look up at him with your big eyes causing him to blush

"Oh I'm so sorry I wasn't there to assist you, my princess."

"I love it when you call me that. What are you up to tonight? Hanging out with the boys or what?"

"Yes, actually. We made plans to try out a bar we've never been to before. I'm super stoked. You can come with if you want"

"That sounds like so much fun but I have to finish getting stuff done around the house tonight. I'm in cleaning mode so I can't stop now. I hope you and the boys have lots of fun though! Send me a text when you're on your way home but I might be asleep depending on how late you'll be."

"Sounds good baby. I love how well you take care of the house. I'm not sure when I'll be home. Maybe 11? 1? I'm not sure. If you get lonely, there's a bottle of Moscato in the fridge & a fluffy friend to cuddle with. Love you my sweet girl."

He gives you a kiss, holding either side of your face with one of his hands.

Before you know it, he's gone again. You don't mind it though, because you have to deal with him being gone for tours and such. God you loved watching him play, and got excited every time the band would come close to home so you could see it in person. Not to mention the after show sex. Danny would always wait for you backstage super sweaty, pumping with adrenaline. You loved when you got to see that side of him. He was always super confident and aggressive, which you don't get to see too often with your mellow & kind-hearted boyfriend.

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

You just changed into pajamas, the red satin set Danny got you for your birthday this past year. You sit by the fireplace, incense freshly burnt, book out, cat on your lap, with a cold glass of wine in hand. You think about your rockstar boyfriend and how truly amazing your life is.

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

Glass breaking. You jolt upwards, finding you have fallen asleep on the couch, right where you were before.

What the hell was that?

"Hello? Danny?" you yell out into the darkness

no response. You walk further in the dark, met with a light from the kitchen. Danny is stood over the sink trying to clean up a broken glass he had toppled over.

"What the hell Danny? What time is it?"

"Please don't be mad baby. It's 3 am"

"Are you okay? Are you hurt? I heard the glass break."

You walk over to him and start turning his hands over. Front and back. Left. Front and back. Right. You look up at his face with concern. Not a single cut. You look back up at him and meet his eyes. He has been watching you the entire time. Examining him with deep worry just for nothing to be wrong.

"I'm fine, my princess. I just had stumbled a bit and the cup fell over. Not even a scratch on me, I promise."

You stand on your tip toes to wrap your arms around his neck, the type of hug you always give him after he causes you to lose your shit. This time being that you thought there was an intruder in your house. You sigh heavily into the nape of his neck and then release. You give him a small smile and walk to your bedroom, his drunk ass following lazily, and a little zig-zagged. You wonder how much he's had to drink if he's having this much of a hard time. After all he drinks with the Kiszka's all the time so he has built up his tolerance.

You yelp after feeling your boyfriends hand slap your ass and give him a glare. Danny is simply grinning ear to ear, eyes squinted. You finally approach your bed. All of a sudden you're in the air, then you're not.

You look up, out of breath, to see Danny standing above you with a look in his eye. "Have you been good for Daddy while I've been gone?"

What the fuck. WHAT THE FUCKKKKK????

You stare at him with your mouth open, completely in shock of what he just said to you. You can't help but admit to yourself that this turns you on and you're already becoming a waterpark in your panties. You gather yourself enough to respond after realizing he's waiting for you to answer.

"Yes sir"

"Good girl. Go into the bathroom. I'll be here. When you come out I don't want you wearing anything but those pink panties of yours."

"Yes Danny"

He gets off of you so you can stand up. You look at him and can tell he knows you like this. Which you do, its pretty obvious based on how you're holding up. You do as you're told and walk straight into the bathroom without looking back. You take off your top first. You then take off your silk shorts and take a glance at yourself in the gold mirror in the corner of the bathroom. You feel a rush of nervousness run over your body. To see Danny look at you in this sense. It is your first time having him be so dominant. Sure you've done stuff close to this in the past- but never this level. But god its hot. You take a deep breath as you fix your hair and open the door. You gasp at the sight before you. Danny is sitting on the corner of the bed closest to you, laid back with his elbows propping him up, completely undressed with his hardness laid out before you.

You don't realize what you're doing until he points it out.

"Close your mouth Darling. Come close, I don't bite- unless you want me to of course. Come take your seat."

You understand exactly what you're supposed to do in that moment. You make 3 swift movements, now almost straddling him save for a few inches. You hover your center above his length, until he locks eyes with you. You make direct eye contact as you slowly sit down and grind against him. He lets out a breathy sigh

"Fuck baby. But that's not what I planned."

He rolls you flat onto your back so now you've switched spots. He hovers his hand over the spot you want him to touch you at but never makes contact.

"Do you want me to touch you baby? Say it"

"I do"

"Beg"

He crosses his arms and looks upwards, waiting for you.

"Jesus fuck danny please just touch me"

"Yes my princess"

He starts rubbing you in circles, making you release stiff breaths from beneath him. He suddenly moves your underwear to the side, slipping two fingers deep within you. You start panting from the feeling building inside you. He's going so fast you feel like you will erupt. He pulls his fingers out and completely stops.

"Danny what the hell?!?" You start getting frustrated with him. You jump at him trying to get him to come back down on you. He instead pushes you off gently without saying a word. He grabs the hairtie off your wrist and puts your hair up for you. You know you now have to pay the favor back to him. He tilts your head back to face him to show you his dark eyes, suddenly darker. He doesn't even have to say anything. You move to the edge of the bed and take him in your mouth. Deep. You swirl your tounge around his tip and use your hands, twisting them as you pump him off. He knows how much you enjoy doing this for him. You continue pumping him while sticking your tounge out. You look up at him but all you're met with is his adam's apple. He has his head thrown back, feeling into every movement you give to him. This only makes you go faster, as more motivation of what its doing to him. Your rockstar boyfriend. He starts to twitch from within your mouth.

You stop. Just like he did from you, teasing, taking the release that he needed. He looks at you angrily and frustrated. "Y/N, now you're gonna get it." Your face displays a wicked smile because you know exactly what you're doing and you disobeyed him. He pushes you backwards and immediately is in you. Kissing you. hands propped on either side of your head. His balls are slapping against you every second. You've never had a fast fuck, let alone a frustrated one. Your eyes roll back into your head due to the intense feeling he is giving you.

"Fuck you feel so good baby. You're so wet"

"Danny- f-f-uck" You mutter as he puts his one hand on your throat and slams into you even harder. He keeps going, but eventually slows down. You have no idea where this comes from, but you somehow flip him and are now riding him. Making out, both giving each other the same look, the same look of need. You need him and he needs you. You start to feel yourself giving in so you slow down. He feels this too- He grabs you to hold you in place and starts thrusting in to you from below. You cry out to him "Fuck!" and a tear falls down your face from all the emotions of ecstasy you're feeling all at once. Danny finishes inside you simultaneously.

You ride him slowly, giving him soft kisses before dismounting him and falling into bed beside him.

He goes to the bathroom to return in boxers & holding a washcloth. He cleans you up and puts a new pair of underwear on you, while planting a kiss to your forehead. You slowly fall asleep knowing you're in his comfort.

"Goodnight, my princess" You hear him say softly as you go in and out of sleep.

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

Light. There's light in your eyes as you squint and stretch yourself awake. 10 am, the clock reads. You roll over to see dark curls, the curls that you adore so much. You smile widely at the thought of last night. You look around your room only to see Greta sitting on the floor, glaring at you. Poor kitty normally sleeps in your bed. You giggle to yourself at the thought of Greta being "punished" because her parents were busy making love.

You turn to give danny a kiss on the cheek as a good morning attempt. You brush your hand over him, to find out that he had discarded his boxers sometime in the nighttime and had morning wood.

"Why goodmorning my sweet boy" You say while running your left hand over his happy trail, right arm propping your head up. He stretches out, putting his arms out to pull you in closer to him.

"Good morning baby girl. I hope I wasn't too much for you last night. I had a lot to drink at the bar."

"Oh baby you're never too much for me, and you won't ever be, even if you make me call you daddy"

"I did what"

You both start laughing together, which ends in a tired make out session interrupted by yawning and something poking you in the leg, which turns your face red.

"Danny?"

"Yes baby?"

"You can do anything you want to me and I will still love you. I don't think I will ever stop adoring you"

He replies with a big smile, as you then kiss that big smile of his, and line him up with you. He smirks at the touch and goes in. You both release a breath, facing each other in bed. Slow, soft, and lovingly. This type won't ever beat anything, not even post concert sex. It is the most loving thing to experience and you know Danny feels the same way.

So there you are, looking at each other completely glazed over with love while he's inside of you, making love lazily to you.

The end!! <3

NOTE from the author: None of these pics are my own and I do not claim them. All found from Pinterest. This is my first fic/ smut I've ever wrote so I hope at least one person out there likes it.

#gvf #gretavanfleet #danny gvf #jake gvf #jake kiszka #gvf smut #greta van smut #greta van fic #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fan fiction #sam gvf #danny wagner #danny phantom #gvf fanfiction #josh gvf #gvf fic #smut

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romanarose · 2 years

Text

Just Happy Accidents

Jake Lockley X Reader

Summary: Jake gets rear ended.

Warnings: A lil yelling, Jake kinda being a dick, a lil smutty (over the clothes touching, thigh riding) Mostly just cuteness

Forgot to add, bold is Steven, italics is Marc, red is Jake (This is my system for all my fics btw)

Jake Lockley was about to lose his goddamn shit. Here he was, stopped at a stop sign, when some dumbass rammed into it. A full stop, mind you, because despite what everyone seems to think, he actually follows all traffic laws. Last thing he needed was a run in with the cops, or god forbid an accident that leaves Marc and Steven fucked up. Luckily, as he moved his body, he was sure things were probably fine. He had to explain to them why their neck hurt, but that was it. For him, anyway.

His car was going to be another fucking story. He gets out of his cab, fuming, ready to yell at someone. He did not expect the girl to get out of the car and yell at him.

“What is wrong with you!” You shout, furious.

He blinks at the audacity. “Excuse me? You hit me!” He shouts, pointing at himself.

“YOUSTOPPEDTOOFAST” You spit out rapidly, panic quickly setting in.

“There is no such thing as stopping too fast, idiota, you were either following too close, or not paying attention!” Jake counters, knowing traffic laws better than he probably needs to.

You freeze, knowing he has a point, and you were caught. You immediately break down crying.

Jake is only human, and a pretty young girl crying in front of him is not something he enjoys.

“Hey… hey now…” He starts, uncertain ahow to go about this.

“I’m never going to financially recover from this!” you sob into your hands.

Jake, why is there a crying girl in front of you? Of course Steven comes to the headspace when there’s crying.

Everything is fine, Steven, just a fender bender.

Oh bullocks, are you okay? Is she?

I’m fine, Steven, so is- Jake realized he didn’t know if you were hurt or not. “Are you hurt?”

Your hands were in your face as you cried. “No” You shook your head.

Jake paused, waiting for you to stop crying. It didn’t happen. He was still irritated. “Well, this is what insurance is for.” C’mon mate, don’t be an arse

Your sobs picked up again. “I don’t have insurance.”

Dios Mio. Jake thought, just my fucking luck. “You don’t have insurance?” Jake pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mujer, what the fuck?”

You remove your hands from your red and blotchy face. “Well you don’t have to be a fucking dick about it.”

He put his hands on his knees in bewilderment. “You rear ended me, Chica. You don’t get to tell me not to be a dick.”

“Do you think I hit you for shits and giggles?” You said through tears.

Don’t be an asshole Great. Marc was here, just what he needed.

Jake tried to calm himself, stand back up straight. “Whyyyyy don’t you have insurance, Carino?” He tried to hide the irritation in his voice behind the pet name.

You threw up your hands. “I got laid off okay! Are you happy! I got laid off and I just got behind on all my bills and I was either car insurance or rent so you can fuck right off with your judgy fucking face right now!” You were angry, not necessarily at him… but he wasn’t fucking helping. He was being a dick. You start crying again.

Come on mate, be nice. Jake sighed. “Okay don’t start that again, I’m sure we can work this out.” Just let it go, man. It’s just the fender. We can buy one online and install it ourselves, she’s clearly having a rough time. She kept crying. Would you be saying that if she wasn’t pretty? You got me.

“I’m sorry.” You muttered into your hands. “It’s been a long few months. Lots of pent up emotions. I’ll call the police and get your information and figure out whatever the fuck I do now.”

“Listen, don’t… don’t worry about it, hermosa.”

“No!” You pointed at him determinedly. “No, Thank you but no. I’m just so sick of charity. I know it’s probably hard to believe when I’m crying in front of you, but I am sick of people pitying me. I just found a new job and I’m catching up on bills, I’ll just skip a few card payments or whatever.”

“Okay, okay.” Jake put up his hands defensively. “No charity. We can exchange information and figure out a payment plan. I know some shit about car repair, I can do that myself, and you can pay me back what you can, when you can.” Is this just an excuse to get her number? No, dumbass, it’s an excuse to get my car fixed. Listen, I wouldn’t complain, she’s cute. You watch too much porn, Marc. We’re not using sex as payment. That’s not what I meant!

You looked at him hesitantly. “This isn’t just an excuse to get my number?”

Jesus, does she share Steven’s brain? “No, Cariño, I just want my car fixed. Listen, there’s a dinner down the road, I was heading there for lunch. We can talk this over, come up with a plan?” When you still eye him suspiciously, he raises his hands defensively. “No funny business! Just business… regular business.”

“...Regular business? I sure hope you aren’t trying to make a come on, because you are not smooth” You laugh a bit, and suddenly Jake wanted to make you laugh again.

“Believe me, Carino, if I was flirting, you’d know” He winked at you, and moved to get in his car. “Vamnos, Chica, Gena is going to think I backed into a poll if I don’t bring a witness to testify.”

Lunch was absolutely not strictly business. It was absolutely silly business, borderline tomfoolery. No regular business got done, not in the 3 hours at the diner, not at the park after Gena kicked you out (with love), and not in the nearly three months you almost always slept at his place. At month four, you moved in. After being able to catch up on bills with a much smaller rent, you surprised him by fixing his car. Well, you bought the piece, Marc put it on. You were in charge of handing him the tools.

“The philips head screwdriver”

“I’ll give you head.”

“Baby, please, give me the screwdrive- no not that one! I said philips head!”

“YOU SAID SCREWDRIVER”

“I said philips head before you had to make a sexual inuedo!”

“Here”

“THATS A HAMMER”

“AH DON’T YELL AT ME DAD!”

“I’M NOT YELLING”

“Fine I don’t know what a philips head screwdriver is.”

“Jesus Christ baby you could’ve just said that.” He rolled out from under the car, grabbing what he needed. He raised his eyebrow as he held up the philips head, a lopsided smile on his face. With the help of his under-car roller, he slide back under. You pull him back you, giving him a kiss on his gross, dirty, grease covered mouth.

You adored all three of them, you adored how they all complimented each other, how you got different aspects of them all combined into one, incredibly sexy man. All of them offered something different. Jake was wild, reckless, fun. Marc was domestic, suburban dad energy. And Steven? Steven was your sexy professor.

“C’mon Steven, pay attentiont to me!”

“Let me finish this chapter, then I promise, I’m all yours.”

“Can you at least tell me what you’re reading about?” You scoot up to him, pressing your body against his as you pretend to read the book.

Steven was not deterred. “I’m learning about the Hyksos invasion of Egypt, I didn’t think this was in your wheelhouse?”

“What the fuck are the Hyksos?”

“They are an ancient civilization that came out of nowhere and took over the Egyptians for several dynasties. No one knows who they are, where they came from, where they went…”

“Like cotton eye joe.” You place your hand on his thigh, hoping to get him worked up.

“I- what?”

“You know. Where did he come from, where did he go, where did he come from, cotton eye joe?” You palm his hardening cocked over his jeans.

“Love… “ He warns you.

“I’m sorry! Tell me something fun about the Egyptians. I promise I’m listening” You weren’t.

“There's uh…” he swallows. “There was a female pharaoph, actually. A few of them, really but one that is particualrly interesting is Hatshepsut. She rules as a regent when her- oh god” Steven swollowed hard as you climbedup on his thigh and beganrocking your body on him as your strocked his clothed dick.

“Keep going baby.”

“T-thing is” he panted, hips bucking up. “She just never gave the thrown back, she just banished her step son.”

“Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss”

“I-” Steven stopped, looking confused at you. “Sometimes, I wonder how your mind works, love”

You start to unbottom his jeans slowly, watching his lips part in aw as you pout at him. “Does this mean you are going to fuck me, finally?”

Gently set his book down, making sure to bookmark his spot, then pushed you back down on the couch, enrapturing you mouth in a kiss.

That’s how you found yourself in Jake’s arms, a year after the car accident, with a ring on your finger.

“Remember how we met, baby?” You ask him, tracing his bare chest with your fingers.

“How could I forget, Carino” Jake kissed the side of your face, still sweaty from making love all evening.

“Never thought I’d be this happy to have gotten in a fender bender” You smile

“It’s like Bob Ross always says. No mistakes, just happy accidents."

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @ahookedheroespureheart

Thank you for reading! Had this stupid idea in my head for a while bc I'm silly

the cotton eye joe bit is based off of an actual moment with my history professor where he was talking about the hyksos and i said that. He did not know what the cotton eye joe was. At least the class laughed.

#jake lockely #moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #moon knight fanfiction #jake lockley fluff #steven grant smut #moon night fanfiction #jake lockley reader #marc spector reader #steven grant reader

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s0ftl3 · 4 months

Text

Shampoo Bottles

What’s this? a fic by s0ftl3 that’s not nsfw for once?? Prepare to have your heart broken (ted’s sure is) as i try my hand at some heart breaking angst!

Ted doesn’t recognize the face he sees in the mirror, the bags under his eyes are dark and heavy. The five o’clock shadow that once lightly covered his cheeks, turned unruly, he doesn’t remember the last time he’d taken proper care to shave. Surely not more than a couple of weeks, right? Is that how long you’d been gone for? He takes a glimpse at the bathtub, the same fancy shampoo you used to wash your hair with, sitting on the edge of it.

The sweet smell of coconut and vanilla, used to surround him, enveloping him in what he could only describe as you. He’d used up the very last of that same shampoo weeks ago, you hadn’t come back for it and he desperately wanted to be reminded of you. He knows it’s wrong, it was wrong to live in the past, to hope you'd come back for the things you had left at his apartment and he’d be able to see your pretty face again. If you did, maybe he’d be able to try and rekindle what you had, he’d be able to show you how much he’s changed.

But he knew you wouldn’t. You hadn’t even come back for your phone charger. It’s been hanging from the wall next to his bed since you had gone. If you weren’t even coming back for that he was sure you didn’t want to see him.

At the beginning he had been petty and bitter, letting his own feelings cloud his judgment and how he perceived your feelings. So, when you left he went no contact, shutting you out in the midst of all the hurt and anger he was harboring. But when it had eventually passed and the guilt set in it was too late. He no longer felt worthy of your time or energy, not after how he had hurt you.

Most recently, he feels as if he’s being haunted by his guilt, seeing what he thinks is your car parked at the end of his street. But he knows it can’t be. This car is in perfect shape, it’s probably never seen an accident. The paint is unchipped and he’s seen his neighbor take immaculate care of the vehicle. Yours has seen many fender benders, the doors dented from you hitting posts with it by mistake. The paint is coming off in some areas. He used to complain about your driving but he almost misses the rush of getting in a car with you, maybe more than almost.

It’s become an unhealthy practice of his, watching out of his living room window waiting for the day that maybe your car will be the one coming down the road. But it never is. It’s always the pristine, well kept one. Just once he wishes it would be yours. Then maybe his guilt would go away, then maybe he’d be able to pick up the phone, maybe he’d be able to be yours again.

But he never did see your car, or that pretty smile he’d fallen so deeply for, not even the tear covered face he’d seen when you walked away.

He never did see you.

#ted nivison angst #chuckle sandwich #ted nivison #chuckle sandwich angst

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whereianonymouslypostfics · 10 months

Text

Road Kill

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~2.1k

Summary: You learn something new about Wanda

A/N: Hello. I'm back. Wtf happened to the desktop layout while I was gone?? Anyways, here's a random thing that came to mind as I got my car washed the other day. Enjoy.

Warnings: brief depiction of road kill, blood, anxiety, and claustrophobia

It was an unfortunate series of events that landed you and Wanda at the car wash. You left work a little later than usual, and at this time of year that meant it was already dark. You didn’t like driving at night because it made the last ten minutes or so of your trip up the mountain treacherous and a little anxiety-inducing. You’ve had many animals run in front of your car, and tonight is one of those unfortunate times where you hit one of them.

Well to be fair, you hadn’t hit the poor deer, but the car that had, threw him in front of you, and you weren’t able to avoid running him over. You cursed and then cursed again when you stopped but the other driver didn’t, and you tried to look at the damage. It was difficult in the dark, and you didn’t want to really see it all. The smell was overwhelming as you stepped out of the car. When you look around and see that you truly are in the dark alone, you realize you’ll be even later getting home.

“Shit. “

Wanda’s finishing up dinner when she hears her phone ring from the living room. She sets her spoon down before hurrying past Boone and Fletcher to see who was calling her. She figured it was you since you’d told her that you were going to leave late tonight, and maybe you were letting her know that you would be home soon. She hates that you were still working late despite having such a difficult week, but she is glad that your weekend was starting now. She sees that it’s you calling, and she smiles widely before sliding her finger across the screen with a sigh.

“Hey, detka. Are you on your way?”

You can’t help but smile widely as you glance down toward your headlights that are a little splattered and look like a scene out of a horror movie. You still can’t force yourself to look down at the remainder of the deer that was under your fender, and you grimace at the starry sky with a loud sigh.

“Yeah, I was almost home, but someone hit a deer and it’s hit me, so I’m just going to be a little bit later.”

Wanda’s somehow never hit anything on the way home since they lived in the house. She’d gotten into plenty of accidents that were work-related, but otherwise she was pretty lucky. You had gotten a couple of speeding tickets that you hid from Wanda, and maybe three fender benders, but you’d somehow avoided hitting a deer, until now. You hear Wanda curse and she’s already looking for her keys when she responds. You hear her slight panic, and you’re already shaking your head as she asks the predictable question.

“Really? Are you okay? Do you need me to come and get you?”

Despite insisting that it was fine, Wanda’s already told you that she’s calling Bucky to come pick you up. You mention hosing off the car, and Wanda cringes but agrees as she goes outside to stand and wait for Bucky to arrive. She keeps you on the phone since it’s dark and you’re literally stranded in the mountains. You back your car up and try to get most of the deer off of it. You have already warned both your wife and friend to not look too closely unless they didn’t want to eat dinner tonight.

“We’re almost there, Y/n.”

You just make an affirmative noise before you continue to stare up at the few stars you can see through the trees. Tonight would be a good night to sit on the top deck of your house and stargaze with your wife and dog. You could do it later if you wanted to, but first you had to get your car cleaned. A couple of minutes later you hear a car come around the corner, and you stand up from where you’d been sitting at the sight of a familiar face. You smile when Bucky turns on his hazards before parking in front of you with a grimace. Wanda studiously ignores the grizzly scene as she rushes out of the car to meet you.

“Hey Wands. Hey Bucky.”

Wanda’s a little surprised when you mention how you wanted to take the car to the wash now instead of just going home to rinse it off. You mention how you don’t want to bring the smells back to the house, and Wanda kind of understands this, and she lets you thank and hug Bucky before she gets into the passenger seat to go with you. You sigh as you get buckled and quickly turn the car around and head back down the road.

“Hopefully this won’t take very long. We’ll be home eating dinner before you know it.”

Wanda smiles but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes as she considers what she’s gotten herself into. She decides to focus on you and she reaches out for one of your hands as you continue to drive back toward town.

“How was your day, detka?”

You spend the next ten minutes telling Wanda about your day, and her telling you about hers. She had made sure that tomorrow would be free for her since you both have been so busy and you haven’t had a lot of time together. You are glad to hear this and by the time you arrive at the carwash, you’re ready to blow through it and get home quickly.

“Okay, let’s see.”

You pull up to the pay station and look at the vaguely familiar wash options. You are mumbling to yourself so you don’t realize that Wanda’s a little distracted as she looks to the dark tunnel that you’re going to drive through in less than a minute. She takes a deep breath and reminds herself that it’s going to be fine as you pay and roll the window back up.

“Alright, ready Wands?”

You’re pulling the car forward on the track as you ask this, not really expecting an answer, but when Wanda’s grip on the door and her seat tighten as she nods stiffly, you realize you should have paid more attention. The lights in the tunnel are a bright, dark blue and they come on as a loud beep signals you should put the car in neutral. You do and you only get to focus on the lights and how they look through the water that’s rushing down and from the side sprayers in front of you for a moment before your wife steals your attention.

Wanda’s focusing on her breathing as she keeps her eyes closed and tries not to think about being enclosed in such a small space with all of the noise around her. You reach out for her hand quickly as the car rolls into the first jets of water and the sound of it hitting the hood is almost deafening.

“Wands? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Wanda squeezes your hand before she shakes her head and turns to you with a slightly panicked expression. She’s only been in a car wash like this one time before, and she’d had a full-blown panic attack. She didn’t realize she was claustrophobic until she was inside surrounded by water without any way to get out. At least without getting drenched and covered in soap. She didn’t like feeling trapped, and as the water gets louder and the entire car is bathed in an eerie blue light, Wanda feels her breathing get shallow.

“No, I-I don’t like this. I need to get out.”

Wanda’s hand goes to the door, but she doesn’t open it as you slowly begin to realize what’s wrong. You honestly enjoyed car washes. Your car got clean, and you got 30 to 40 seconds of sitting in your car surrounded by the sound of rain and pretty lights. You love it, but apparently, it’s not everyone’s thing. You’re not sure how you didn’t know this before, but you’re quick to try and distract your wife since you can’t exactly get out right now.

“Hey, it’s alright. We’ll be out in a minute, and then we can go home and see the kids.”

Wanda offers you a small smile that you can tell is only a gesture, and not really sincere. You turn toward her and try to figure out how to best approach this. You didn’t know that Wanda was claustrophobic, but this is not the ideal time to figure it out. You unbuckle yourself before you reach over and lean Wanda’s seat back so she’s lying down. You unbuckle her too so she doesn’t feel so trapped, and you sit up and lean over the console with a small smile.

“Can you close your eyes for me, really quick?”

This is easy for Wanda to do, and she squeezes them shut as she takes your hands and holds them to her chest. She takes a deep breath and you start talking as you glance to the windows that are still being doused in suds. You admire the lights for a second before turning your attention back to Wanda.

“Do you remember our first date? Well rather our first time? It was maybe our tenth date, and you went all out and it was amazing. Do you remember what I’m talking about?”

Wanda struggles to focus on you at first as she tries to block out the sound of water thundering against the roof. When she realizes what you’re talking about, she can’t help but smile at the memory of it. She nods and she keeps her eyes closed as she breathes out barely loud enough for you to hear.

“Yeah, I do.”

You smile in response as you kiss your wife’s forehead and think back on one of the most romantic nights of your life. This was probably the date that convinced you that there was no leaving Wanda. She was going to be it for you, and you’d hoped that she would feel the same way.

“It was probably one of my favorite dates, Wands. You were so sweet, and you spent what I’m sure was an obscene amount of money to make me happy.”

You realize that you’re getting close to the end of the tunnel because the car’s getting hit by air now to dry it off, and you try to speak louder so Wanda doesn’t hear it. She almost looks peaceful as she lies back with her eyes shut, and you just hope she’s thinking about your time together as fondly as you are.

“I was so nervous. I’d put a lot of effort…or at least money into it, and I was very worried you’d find it too cheesy.”

You shake your head as you shift slightly so you can pull the car up and out of the tunnel and back into the parking lot. You carefully park near the vacuums before humming in contemplation as you recall that Wanda was right. She had sat in the car for nearly ten minutes after she’d driven you to the club, and you’d been confused and a little worried.

“It wasn’t cheesy, my love. It was perfect. Really beautiful.”

Wanda was thinking of the decorations that she’d paid tens of thousands for, but you were mostly thinking about how the rest of the night had gone after leaving the club. It had been beautifully decorated, and it was the memory of the lights that made you think of it now, The lights have since gone out, and you and Wanda really are in the dark with just your cleaner headlights and a couple of lamp posts illuminating the parking lot.

“I’m glad you liked it.”

Wanda’s eyes open to see you smiling at her, and she sits up a little so she can kiss you. You smile against her lips and only pull away a few seconds later when Wanda seems to realize where you are. She looks around briefly before she opens the window and watches as the last remaining drops of water disappear. She puts her seat back up and sticks her arm out the window and sighs heavily. She’s still looking outside as you put your seatbelt back on and start to pull out of the parking lot.

“Ready to go eat?”

Wanda turns to you with a smile before she nods in agreement. She’s starving and she’d almost forgotten as her anxiety seemed to overrule everything else. Now that she was calm, she was hungry again and she reaches over for your arm. She squeezes it gently and you turn to her when you come to a red light.

“Thank you, detka.”

You smile and kiss her cheek before continuing down the road. It’s time to get home and enjoy the rest of the night, and then tomorrow you and Wanda will have the entire day together. She keeps her hand on your arm for the rest of the ride home, and she’s already feeling the urge to go to sleep after this stress. Maybe she can convince you to eat on the couch in front of the television tonight.

“Of course, Wands.”

Masterlist

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda x reader #wanda x you #silver springs #silver springs au #silver springs drabble

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