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nanaminsmoon · 7 months

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e.jaegar x shynailtech!reader. mdni. 18+

wc: 1761.

a/n: the girlies wanted another eren fic and i need to clear my drafts so here we are😁

eren had ended up on your doorstep, hands in his pockets and checking his shoes, via a trusty recommendation courtesy of mikasa. being arguably your best and most loyal client, mikasa had notified you about his visit a week before your appointment. but, though you had been expecting the brunette, you hadn’t expected him to be as good-looking as he was; brown locks in a loose bun, grey tech under his black moncler coat and white af1s on his feet. and his good looks weren’t the only thing she had failed to mention, because eren seemingly had a staring problem.

those jades hadn’t left you since eren had crossed the threshold separating your studio and the outside world. it was hard not to notice, because he was practically burning two holes into the top of your head as you worked. yet you wouldn’t mention it, because you assumed it was due to novelty. because, as put-together as he was—well-groomed, and smelling of a knee-weakening herby mix of woody cologne and faint weed—it was very much possible that it was his first time getting his nails done. so it was only natural for him to thoroughly assess his surroundings, as well as the people in it. it just so happened that, unluckily for you, you were the only person in those surroundings.

while most clients would pull their phones out, some even going as far as to put their airpods in while making small conversation, eren found all his entertainment in you; your steady breathing as you poured all your attention into your craft, the way you’d pull back from his fingertips and ask him for his approval, and the way his calloused hands felt in your delicate ones. their grip was firm, yet very gentle, and he felt sick for even imagining how they’d feel wrapped around his dick. just two seconds of quiet was enough time for his brain to generate different versions of one particular image: those nails of yours, that he figured you had done yourself, decorating his hard length—your thumb occasionally swiping over his leaking tip. though just a daydream, the feeling was so visceral that a small shudder travelled down his spine, forcing a deep breath to leave eren’s mouth without his permission. and that would be the thing to make him shake himself out of his reveries before you noticed.

“you’re good at this. i see why mikasa is here all the time”, he'd comment, and your small laugh would be covered by the back of your hand as you muttered out a timid ‘thanks’. and though he tried to fight it, those perverse thoughts he had quelled rose back again because of that simple reaction.

‘curiosity’ was the name of the debauched hand twisting every single one of eren’s thoughts, and its fuel was the question of how far your shy demeanour extended. during the few moments his eyes weren’t locked on you, they would be fixed on a random spot in the room as he entertained the idea of burying your hard work deep inside of you—slender digits moving in and out of you with haste, as his other hand rested on the back of your neck to pull your lips onto his. eren pondered whether or not your hand would still cover your mouth even as he curled his fingers in a way that made your back arch off your work chair. would that coy act still try to override the fact that your walls told him what your abashed mouth refused to say? and, as his arousal made him shift in his chair, eren’s mind couldn’t help but ask him if you'd grab onto his arm as your lips told him it was too much, but your eyes pleaded for him to keep going. luckily for his inquisitive mind, eren would soon find the answers to all his questions.

“but you can take it, can't you ma?”, eren’s breath slid past the shell of your ear as he spoke into it. his words reeked of artificial sympathy, because there was not an ounce of pity in his digits as they pumped in and out of you—a rogue thumb even moving to rub at your clit.

most people would be bothered by someone staring them, many would even ask them what their problem was, but you had remained silent—knees pushed together as you tried to soothe the effects of eren’s glare, underneath the table. even when he’d move a little closer, purposely making sure you were aware that it was you he was looking at and not whatever was being illuminated by the bright led lights on your table, all you’d do was push your head further down to narrow your vision on the task at hand—making eren scoff in amusement.

“y'know...”, he'd finally speak up, to no proper response, “it's okay to come up for air every once in a while”, eren would remark and, from where he was looking, he’d see your eyebrows crease in confusion.

“you ain't gotta be scareda me. eye contact is good. customer service and whatnot”, he’d shrug, and you’d nod back. and that’s all you could do. because everything he was saying was right; his glower had burned through you, leaving behind a cowardly pile of ashes.

“yeah, but i gotta do my job. so i kinda have to look at ‘em”, you’d explain.

“the nails are fine.”, he'd quip, pulling his hand from your grasp to leave you just staring at the table, “and so are you. so lemme see your face”, he'd say, and you'd freeze.

“need me to ask you again, or do i gotta move you myself?”, he'd ask with a sly smirk, that you’d only see when you faced him. once he could meet your shaking eyes, he'd sigh in contentment,

“there she is”, he'd joke.

and now she was about to cum on his fingers so he'd quickly pull them out of you, earning him a look of aroused outrage from yourself.

“think imma do allat and not see how this pussy feel?”, a light chuckle carried eren’s question out of his mouth, and his hands would be preoccupied with pulling his joggers and boxers down. eren wanted all that shyness gone, so he'd get you to take the initiative and move yourself back on him—fucking yourself on his dick, with your hard work sandwiched between your tongue and the roof of your mouth as you sucked all the arousal off his middle fingers. it only took a few minutes, but the shy woman he had met had all but disappeared as soon as eren's dick had entered her, and that amused him. maybe you had been shy because you feared looking at him would lead you to this very position, and you weren't ready to face that reality. but eren had enough courage for the both of you; he had been brave on your behalf, so you could get to the point where his dick was so deep inside you, he was making your legs shake,

“eren, i’m cumming”, you spoke out quietly, and he grabbed your jaw and turned you to face him.

“i can’t hear you. say it again”, he ordered through clenched teeth, and you whined, “just speak up for me, ma”, he kissed your cheek.

“i’m cumming, eren”, you said louder, and he’d smile to himself before holding onto you and fucking into you himself. you came almost instantaneously, your voice the loudest he’d heard you. there weren’t many words you could string together because your brain was too busy trying to will your limbs to keep you upright. but it would be enough encouragement for eren, and it’d move his hips faster as he continued fucking into you.

the feeling of you tightening around him had switched your roles; it had rendered eren speechless, while you were straining your vocal cords to tell him how good he felt—all the while, neglecting the fact that you were about to snap a fingernail with how hard you were gripping onto your work surface. if his curling toes didn’t have him busy fighting a foot cramp, eren might’ve had time to be surprised by the fact that you cut him off as he was about to speak.

“nut in it, eren”, you’d plead with him, and your words must’ve skipped over his ears and gone straight to his dick, because those five syllables would be enough for him to still and fill you with his seed—his lips connected to your neck to barely stifle his moans. there’d be a slight pause as you both stood, catching your breath and recovering from a high that wasn’t ready to come down yet. when you’d reluctantly try to pull away from him, you’d be thankful his fingernails were trimmed because they’d be digging into your hips and, as expected, his eyes were stuck to your face. even with his curiosity quenched, eren wouldn’t stop studying you; the rise and fall of your chest as your breathing regulated again, the stray hairs adhered to your forehead by sweat, and the small pout formed by you holding back your frustrations,

“the fuck’s your problem?”, you’d finally ask, and eren would be taken aback by your curt words.

“what, i can’t look at you?”, he’d ask through a low chuckle, kissing your cheeks and rubbing circles on your exposed hips.

“yeah, but chill—ffuck”, each time you moved off him, eren’s hands would halt you and the friction was tightening the knot in your stomach that he had loosened not too long ago, “i’m not going nowhere, you ain’t gotta stare like that”, your laboured words fought against the moans threatening to escape your mouth.

“you’re just pretty, that’s all”, eren’s hand would once again be on your jaw, stilling your movements so his lips could resume their kissing on your neck and the space behind your ears, while his hips restarted their movements, “but you right; i ain’t done with you, so you not going nowhere til i am.”

#≡;- ꒰ °nanaminsmooninc. ꒱#aot x black reader #aot x black y/n #eren x black reader #aot eren #eren smut #eren x reader #eren x black fem!reader #eren x you

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twilight-orchid · 4 months

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You’re Going To Be A Grand….Bat

Part 2 to Shower Suprise Part 3

Jason Todd x gn pregnant reader

Word count 2,303

You bounced your foot impatiently as you and Jason sat in the gynecologist’s purposefully pastel waiting room. He watched you look anxiously around the space, your eyes never settling on any one thing and your head perking to every name called. You fiddled with your new engagement ring, a small smile curling into his lip upon seeing it. He held your right hand gently but firmly, his thumb rubbing circles along your soft skin. He slipped his grip up to your wrist, pressing just enough to feel your wild heartbeat racing.

“Hey, look at me doll.” He said lowly. You turned to look at him, your eyes possessing a frantic look and your pretty face twisted with worry. He let go of your hand to cup your cheek.

“It’ll be alright sweetheart. Either way it goes, it’ll be alright. You just gotta stay calm and breathe. Can you breathe for me?” You closed your eyes as you sucked in a shuddered breath, but you matched his in and exhales. You were both 99% sure you were pregnant, that’s not what you were nervous about.

After further deliberation, the two of you had decided to keep the baby. Jason felt nervous, excited, stressed, ecstatic, and terrified all at the same time. He’d spent the whole night reading about the first trimester of pregnancy and researched what you would learn at the first ultrasound. That was why you were nervous.

They’d go over basics: how far along you are, the baby’s measurements, listen to the heartbeat, etc. However, they’d also possibly hear some bad news: Ectopic pregnancy, developmental screenings, and genetic abnormality screenings are what had you stressing. Of course, chances were everything would be fine, but the couple was still understandably scared.

“Y/l/n?” A nurse called from the now open door. Jason squeezed your hand then stood, grabbing your bag and following you into the office. She confirmed your identity, took your height and weight, then led you into a small room. She had you sit on the cold blue exam table, the paper crinkling as Jason helped you up. He took his place at the chair by your side then once again grabbed your hand. You met his eyes and smiled nervously.

“Alright, I understand we’re doing an ultrasound today?” You nodded and she smiled warmly at you both. She took your basic intake info then had you lay down.

“Now I’m just an exam tech. The doctor will be in after to go over the results with you, okay? Pull your shirt up to your bust and relax. Oh, and sorry in advance, this will be cold.” Once you were settled, she squeezed a clear gel onto your bare belly making you shudder.

“Jesus fuck. That is cold.” Jason chuckled. Between the two of you his kid would be cursing like a sailor by 2.

You both watched the technicians face closely for any sign of what she was seeing as she waved the wand along your belly, but she had an impeccable poker face. And, as someone raised to analyze facial expressions, he couldn’t get a read of her at all. Impressive.

The exam thankfully only took a few minutes and the technician quickly departed to share the results with the doctor. Jason grabbed a couple of the cheap, rough paper towels and brought them over. You thanked him with a smile then moved the wipe the slick gel off. He tossed them for you as soon as you were done.

“You okay doll?” He asked. You still looked beyond anxious.

“I’m fine, just impatient.”

“Well that much I know.” He teased. You smiled and smacked his arm. He pretended to be hurt as if Superman himself had slugged him.

“Oh shut up, drama queen.” You laughed. There was a knock at the door before he could respond.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Hall and I’ll be going over your results with you today. I can see you’re both waiting anxiously, so I’ll cut to the chase: you’re 8 weeks pregnant.” The two now confirmed new parents looked at each other with excitement growing on their faces. He squeezed your hand tight.

“Wait, I didn’t finish.” The doctor interjected. The two froze and looked at her nervously. Oh no, was something wrong? She didn’t look like it was bad news though. A slight smile tugged at her lips.

“You’re pregnant with twins.” She said simply. If there were a window in the room, Jason would swear there’d be a bird suspended in air outside the way the world froze around him. You were the first to break the stunned silence.

“No, I’m not.” You denied, disbelief painting your tone. The doctor laughed.

“Yes, you are.” She grabbed a folder from the counter behind her and handed you a black and gray photo. Not just any photo, your ultrasound. The shock of twins dissipated when you saw the two little blobs that would be your babies.

“They’re not very visually developed at this stage, but you can see their little heads right here and this is their body. They’re about the size of raspberries right now. They’re both perfectly healthy so far as we can tell, but you’ll need to come in monthly for checkups.” Neither responded, their eyes glued to the paper. It suddenly felt very real for Jason. Pregnant wasn’t just a word and parenthood wasn’t just an idea; he already had two kids on the way. He had a whirlwind of emotions raging inside of him.

Twins. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me, he thought. He heard you sniffle then turned to you to see tears rolling down your cheeks. He was worried for a moment before you wiped them away with a small laugh.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying.” The doctor smiled and handed you a tissue.

“It’s alright! Totally normal reaction with your hormones. Congratulations!” Jason still hadn’t said anything. He heard the conversation going on around him, but he felt like he was in a trance.

Twins. Two cribs, two car seats, two beds, twice the diapers, twice the bottles, twice the spit up, and more than likely half their sleep for the next couple years.

“I take it you’re the father?” She asked. Something clicked in his mind, and he looked up to meet your eyes. His head was still spinning, but he knew with you at his side everything would be okay. His signature handsome smile began growing on his face.

“Yeah, I’m the dad.”

You left with a copy of the ultrasound and your 12-week checkup scheduled. Once in the car the two of you made your way home.

“Jay, can I address the elephant in the room?” You asked from the passenger side.

“I mean sure but, we’re in the car and I don’t see an elephant anywhere.” He remarked making you scoff.

“Don’t be a smartass.” You chided. He let out a sigh.

“I know we need to tell Bruce.”

“He’s gonna find out sooner or later, and if you hide it for too long, he’s gonna get his feelings hurt.” Jason barked a laugh.

“You know we’re talking about Batman, right?”

“He’s human, Jay. And he’s really making an effort with you. If you don’t tell him he’s going to think you don’t trust him, it’ll hurt his feelings, and he’ll express it in anger or coldness. Better?” He groaned.

“Fine.” He made the turn that takes you out of the city to the suburbs where the manor was located.

“Wait we’re going right now?”

“I know he’s home right now, and most of my siblings aren’t. It’s as good a time as any.” You didn’t say anything, just squeezed the hand he had resting on your thigh.

“Can you let Al know we’re on the way?”

Telling Bruce had been an issue dancing around his mind just as much as the pregnancy itself. He didn’t expect B to be mad, but he doubted he’d be happy about it. For someone who had a small army of kids himself, B had been very clear about how dangerous it is to bring kids into their world. Plus, Jason had always said Bruce should give criminals the safe sex talks he and his siblings had received. The awkwardness alone would probably set them on a better path.

The manor was only about 20 minutes away from the hospital, so you reached your destination quickly. Which was good, because Jason’s nerves were already shot by the time you arrived. Alfred had clearly been waiting for you as the door was open by the time they were on the stairs.

“Master Todd, y/n, it’s good to see you both.” Alfred greeted with a smile.

“Hey, Al. Where’s B?” Alfred scoffed.

“Where he always is.” The trio made their way through the manor, into the study, then descended into the cave. Being that it was only 11am, they found Bruce in his street clothes typing away at the Bat-computer, his back to the entrance.

“Hey, B.” Jason greeted as they got closer. Bruce looked up from his research and turned to them with his universe famous resting bitch face.

“Jason, y/n.” He acknowledged with a nod before going back to his case. The couple looked anxiously at each other before Jason cleared his throat.

“B, we uh… we actually need to talk to you.” Jason said tentatively. That got Bruce’s attention.

He fully turned away from the computer to face you. You stared at the floor, your hands fiddling anxiously with the hem of your shirt. Jason looked him in the eye, but his face was controlled, intentional. He gripped a folder in his hand with white knuckled strength.

You were both nervous as hell.

He noticed the new ring on your finger, but you weren’t here to announce your engagement. This was something else. Something important that affected you both, that clearly involved Bruce, and that you were anxious about.

“Excuse me.” Alfred said with a small bow, dismissing himself.

“Actually Al, you should stay.” Jason added. Bruce and Alfred both raised a brow to that. There were several potential options mulling around Bruce’s mind, but one stood out as a prominent possibility.

“Don’t tell me you’re pregnant.” He said, still painfully deadpan. You both froze, head snapping up like deer in headlights. Shit, you were pregnant.

“Are you serious?” He asked, his voice sterner than he meant it to be but he didn’t bother correcting himself. Jason approached and handed him the folder, then took a step back to your side, placing a reassuring hand on your hip. Bruce flipped it open with Alfred peering over his shoulder.

Bruce had never been there for the pregnancy of any of his kids and had never really been around pregnant people for any extended periods of time, but he knew what a sonogram looked like. And he also knew there weren’t typically two fetuses in the picture either.

“My god, you’re having twins?” Alfred exclaimed. The couple both nodded silently. Bruce sighed.

“After all the talks I had with you boys…” He muttered.

“We used a condom!” Jason defended.

“And birth control.” You added. Bruce groaned and ran a hand over his face.

He looked at Jason, his son. His son that had been through hell and seen the world at its worst. His son who died and was brought back angry and crazed. Bruce’s greatest failure. His son who went on a killing spree, following his own vengeful sense of justice. His son who, after everything, was trying to be a better man. He was a better man. A man who controlled his anger, who was denying vengeance for justice, who had settled in with a partner and really began building a life for himself. Bruce wasn’t the sort to load praise, he found words useless and pretty, so he preferred actions. However, he was proud of Jason in a way unique to his children. And now his son, whom he once thought lost, was having two kids of his own. Bruce sighed again.

“I’m not even 50 and you’re making me a grandpa?” He asked, the slightest quirk at the corner of his lip. The couple paused; a loading screen might as well have been floating above their heads.

“So you’re…” you began.

“Not pissed?” Jason finished. Bruce scoffed.

“No. You’re adults, you can make your own decisions.” He said plainly but paused.

“And, for the record, I think you’ll be great parents.” With that he turned back to the computer and set to work again.

“Oh, and congratulations on the engagement.” He yelled over his shoulder. You furrowed your brows.

“How did he- oh, right. World's greatest detective, I forgot.” Bruce snorted to himself at that last part.

“My congratulations to the both of you. How far along?” Alfred said as he approached the new parents to be.

“8 weeks.” You answered smiling brightly, your hand moving to your currently unchanged belly. Something warm lit in Jason’s chest.

“Well, I wish you luck informing the rest of the family, I’m rather thankful we don’t have neighbors. They’re sure to cause quite the ruckus in their excitement.”

“You think they’ll be excited?” You asked anxiously. Jason knew you were worried about your place in his massive and chaotic super family.

“Oh, babe, they’re gonna be through the roof. Two babies? You kidding? There’s gonna be a war from day 1 to be the favorite aunt or uncle.” You smiled, your nerves dying down.

“Everyone will be together for dinner tonight, perhaps you could join us then? I’m making tortellini.” Alfred tempted. Jason suddenly looked like a kid on Christmas.

“Oh, babe, we have to do it. You’ve never had Al’s homemade tortellini, absolutely killer.” You laughed.

“I guess we’ll see you for dinner tonight.”

Note: I know, I knoooow the twin trope is overdone but the image of Jason trying to juggle two toddlers is just too good. I have one more piece drafted then I may write the whole family reveal, but I’m anxious to write that many characters at once. Also I know I have a pretty nice Bruce, but I don't feel like Batman as a character needs to be an absuive ass to his kids to be himself. And again, I'm a new writer so I'm sorry if it's bad lol. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!

#jason todd x reader #Jason Todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x pregnant reader #jason todd x pregnant!reader #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #Jason Todd #red hood #dcu #dc comics #dc #batfam #batman

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tojivu · 4 months

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nightmares ⋆ nanami kento

an. my finals start in june i'm gonna explode yall

cw. sfw. gn!reader. kento has nightmares and he needs you

playing. oh my god by fog lake.

nanami's been getting more sleep ever since he left jujutsu tech and that shitty nine to five he used to slave at every damn day — along with the fact that he's able to spend more time with you. he likes to say that it helps him sleep, having you within arms reach (something that was extremely rare in the past, considering he had no time to rest).

kento thinks you resemble closely to a human sized pillow, and he often treats you as such. his arms are wrapped around your frame, one of his legs laying on top of yours — his chest rises and falls slowly, small snores leaving his lips — and you're thankful, very thankful; nanami was never able to sleep this soundly when you two lived in tokyo.

you try your best to push his heavy weighted figure away: you groan and complain that he's too big to be sharing this bed with you and that he should be sleeping on the floor instead. yet, you welcome him with open arms every night — pressing kisses to his forehead and running your fingers through his blonde hair.

you'd rather clingy and sleepy nanami who uses you as a personal bolster pillow in the night than sleepless nanami who locks himself away in his office, or exhausted nanami who drags his feet through the entrance of your home with bloodied limbs. it broke your heart more times than you could really count, seeing kento that way.

nanami kento saw his life flash before his eyes in shibuya, and all he could really pray for was to make it out alive so he could see you one last time — even if it were just for a few minutes. he clung desperately onto the last bit of energy and will he had in hopes of making it out alive; even if he was mutilated to a point beyond recognition, he needed to be with you. that was the only way he could let himself go — he would crawl back to your home if it meant he could kiss you one last time.

he never told you how long he'd be gone, or if he'd even come back at all: so you waited anxiously, refreshing news pages and watching the television every night for some sort of good. any sort of indication kento was okay.

he doesn't return home. you only see him when you rush down to the hospital they take him to — barely conscious, holding on to hope he didn't know he still had. nanami regains his full consciousness in the weeks following, the first thing he says being that he's done.

yes, nanami didn't want to risk it. never again.

it's 2 in the morning and you're unable to sleep, nanami's groans and sudden flinches are keeping you up.

"ken?"

the expression on his face is horrific — you feel the guilt wash over you like a wave, high and then crashing; so your fingers find his arms and you try your very best to shake the man awake.

your husband wakes up with a whimper; tired eyes almost brimming with tears at the fact that he is awake and you are real. his mouth is sealed, unable to utter a word, but the way his lips tremble tells you everything he cannot say.

"are you—"

soon, calloused fingers are gripping the flesh of your waist and pulling you impossibly closer. a nightmare, you can already tell: his hands feel clammy and his breathing is laboured.

"ken," you whisper. "'s okay. i'm here."

he sucks air through his teeth, trying to catch his breath. his body shudders at your touch as you graze over his skin — tracing circles on his bare back, your lips on his forehead. kento feels like he's about to cry, but he's not sure from what: at the fact that he had the worst dream of his life, or the fact that he's not dead and you're still here.

"'m s-sorry," he mutters. his voice is strained, still that deep and low tone that you're familiar with — but your heart still breaks as he apologises. "i'm sorry for waking you."

"don't be sorry," you comb your fingers through his hair using your free hand. "you know i don't mind it."

he sniffles and you yearn to hold him even tighter, but you think he would suffer broken ribs if you went through with that; so you settle for his head on your chest and your arms wrapped around his back.

"love you," nanami mumbles, voice getting softer and his grip looser — he feels his heart calm and his mind empty when you touch and hold him just like this. "i love you so much."

nanami wanted to be your protector. he hoped he would be for the remainder of his life — he likes to think he's doing a decent job at it now — but sometimes, it feels as though you are his; you fit awfully well to the title.

he supposes that's why he sleeps longer with you in the same bed as him; it's a peaceful thing knowing you're next to him if he has another bad dream, or if he feels cold and needs your warmth — or if he just wants to lay with you.

"i love you more, ken," you lulled, the tips of your fingernails scratching the skin of his trapezius; he recognises the heart shapes you trace on him. "get some rest."

"okay," he hums, his nose poking at your collarbones — his lips slowly leaving trails of kisses along them. "goodnight, darling."

your lips curl into a smile almost instinctively and you think it's embarassing, but it's much too dark for kento to see you blush at the name he calls you. you're thankful.

"goodnight, baby."

he's thankful that it's close to pitch dark, as well — kento thinks you can't see the smile he has on his face — but what he doesn't realise that you can feel him on your skin; feel the way his cheeks puff and his lips form the small smile you are so familiar with.

090124 — happy new years Tartaglieo fandom my gcse's are upcoming.

#nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #nanami x reader fluff #nanami kento x reader fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x reader fluff #nanami kento #nanami kento jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami x you #jjk imagines #jjk headcanons #jjk gf

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itsabouttimex2 · 12 days

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Hi can I get your thoughts on the rise turtles being affected by the primal moon moon au please 🙏 love to hear your thoughts will their act the same or would their personalities be way different 👀

would Raph be like his savage self

Would Donnie act more villainy

would Leo be gaslighting, girl bossing his darling

mikey is a interesting one especially since his has different personals (Dr delicate touch , dr feeling and dr rude ?)

or would he be the same but different in a way ? Would their all act the same but more eerie to them 👀👀👀 love to hear your thoughts ^^

Primal Moon Turtles

I thought for a while as to what instincts and behavior Raphael has to be amplified by be the Primal Moon, and I though- the big guy is pretty doting, isn’t he? He definitely adores all his siblings, trying his best to keep them all safe and healthy. He even has a baby voice he uses with them. (I love this guy so much.)

So, when viridescence plagues him and strips away all inhibitions, his nurturing traits are boosted by damn near triple. Raph goes from reasonably worried about his loved ones to being outright paranoid.

Forget “you can’t go on a mission alone”, he shifts to “Is that a knife, Y/N?! In your hand?! Put it down before you cut all your fingers off!” very quickly. (It was a butter knife.)

As an alligator snapping turtle, Raph also gains a serious fondness for soaking underwater and burying himself in mud, constantly submerging himself for longer and longer periods of time. Eventually, the family sends you out to coax him back onto land, offering cuts of meat and cuddles to get him to stop nearly drowning himself.

Sitting behind him as he eats, scrubbing newly grown algae off his shell with one of those bristle brushes as he squirms around happily.

Leonardo’s desire to establish himself as someone worthy of attention and admiration takes a notably nasty turn, leading him to grow outright aggressive. Often tries to pick fights, especially with people who interact with Y/N.

Instead of merely showing off, now he stalks through the corridors of the sewers picking fights with anything that passes by. (Boy is out here throwing hands with driftwood.)

It usually falls to Raph to drag the red-eared slider back home, resorting to physical restraints and taped on headphones with soothing music to try and keep him from lashing out violently.

And then he wakes up covered in bruises and cuts from his fights, praying that he didn’t try to attack his family this time, too.

Horrible situation, all around.

Out of every mutant and yōkai in ROTTMNT, Donatello is one who hates the Primal Moon the most. For him, every cycle heaps him with a massive dose of genuine insecurity and self-hatred, feeling pathetic and stupid.

His faculties sort of… regress? But his personality stays the same, bearing a genuine desire to make and create. Instead of machinery or tech, though… he’s sitting cross-legged on the ground, grinding rocks into spearheads and binding them to long sticks.

Softshell turtles are hunters, after all.

Donnie’s diet switches almost entirely to fish he’s personally caught, and he starts to bed on sand and sunbathe for warmth. Also, lots of swimming.

Y/N and Mikey are the only two people who can reliably get close to him during one of his ‘hunting moods’, anyone else receiving a sharp snap of his jaws.

Of course, being able to draw near that doesn’t that he’s going to let you pull away.

Poor boy gets emotional, and big time. Given that Ornate Box Turtles are pretty docile and placid, Michelangelo has the least trouble during the Primal Moon’s rising. It also means that he’s the most lucid, capable of remembering each and every moment of trouble and fighting, verbal or physical.

Mikey often bunks down with Y/N through the week, relying entirely on them for support and comfort. He can’t do much but shudder in their arms, pretending that he can’t hear his brothers fighting or hunting.

This boy needs you so damn bad that it hurts. He’ll cling tight, arms and legs wrapped tightly around you to prevent your removal from his side. It’s not that he’s trying to be possessive- Mikey just wants you to stay out of the trouble and danger that his brothers are getting into.

His dietary preferences switch to be much more in line with his turtle half, eating grass and berries and squirmy pests. Donnie also supplies the younger turtle with cuts of freshly hunted fish. Doesn’t have much of a love for water, and actually prefers to move around on dry land.

The easiest to deal with, bar none.

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere Rise of The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles #Yandere ROTTMNT #Yandere Raphael #Yandere Leonardo #Yandere Donatello #Yandere Mikey #Yandere Brother #Primal Moon

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femscottlang · 7 months

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Flustered- part one

Summary; After being recommended by Garcia to be the next technical analyst for the BAU, You find your ability to keep your personal and work life separate becoming increasingly more difficult. Your charming boss is not helping either. Your attempts to not show your affection towards her leads Emily to believe that you dislike her.

AN; this is some serious idiots to lovers, misinterpretation shit (aka my favorite trope). Not canon for the sake of plot.

Word count 1.5k

You had gotten through the first couple of weeks of the new job without a hitch. Of course, there were a couple panicked calls to Penelope when her security was a little too good, but nothing major.

Except for your boss and her indescribable ability to make your brain stop working.

You stepped out of the elevator and took a moment to smooth over your hair and let out a shuddering breath. This had become a part of your work routine to try and make it through the day without having to hide in your lair until your face cooled down. You walked in, giving your colleagues a soft smile and hello, conveniently avoiding Emily's gaze, as you walked past them into your office where you saw a handful of case files on your desk with a sticky note on them.

Pick one

You sighed and sat down, pulling the sticky note off and putting it aside. Your breath hitched as you smelled her perfume lingering on the sheet of paper. “Shit…” you muttered, immediately tossing in the trashcan to get it as far away as possible. You put your hands on your cheeks to try and calm the flush.

After filtering through the cases you landed on a case of people being killed in their sleep by an axe in New Orleans. Selfishly, it was also the furthest away. Anything to gain distance between you and that patchouli perfume which made your heart beat fast enough to power the BAU jet. Emily Prentiss had an innate ability to make you choke up. You had dated plenty of women, mightve even been considered a bit of a player. You were never one to get flustered, until Prentiss. Her voice sent shivers down your spine in the best way possible.

You shook the image of her out of your head and grabbed the folder and your tablet, walking into the bull pen “Conference room in 10” You said, holding up the wretched manilla sleeve as you went into conference room to display the images on the tv.

Emily leaned against the edge of Terra’s desk, her leg in a boot. She watched you beeline to your office, smiling at everyone except for her. She sighed and leaned her head back “What did I do?” she groaned, lifting her head and looking at terra for comfort. Terra let out a chuckle “I can’t help you here, Prentiss. Sometimes people just don’t like you and you have to live with that” she shrugged

“But she likes all of you! Is it because I'm the boss?” She rubbed her forehead

Her eyes followed you as you walked in and waved the folder “Conference room in 10” and as you walked out, scanning over your blouse and pencil skirt.

“She’s stuck with me for this case, I’ll be no help on the field with this boot on my foot” she grumbled as Terra got up and smiled “Maybe dropping that weight on your foot was a sign from god. You can finally bond with the pretty tech girl” she sneered playfully, which earned her a smack on the arm and a push towards the conference room as they made their way over.

“What do you have for us?” Emily asked as she sat in her chair with a huff. You looked up at her like deer in headlights.

You stammered, fumbling with the remote “w-we have three sets of victims, all killed by being struck by an axe in their sleep. One set is a mother, father and two children, the next is a pregnant woman and her husband and the last is just husband and wife” You explained, flipping through the images while avoiding looking at the television.

“This is clearly inspired by the Axeman of New Orleans, but this guy is significantly more successful. In the real case, the axeman never managed to kill most of his victims” You explained, looking around the room.

“Many believed that the axeman was a demon and that he was able to shrink, crawl under the doorway and grow back to the size of a normal man.” Spencer chimed in.

You shuddered “no demons please. I can barely deal with evil people let alone the supernatural”

“Oh Techie, don’t tell me you believe in ghosts” Luke chimed in with a laugh.

You frowned “A fear of ghosts is perfectly normal!” You insisted as Emily cut off the bickering “Wheels up in 30. “ She stated before looking at you “I will be staying here, I’m no use to you guys on the field with my boot.” Your eyes went wide “Here?”

“Is that a problem?” She asked, you shook your head, scurrying back to your room as you prayed she would stay in her office.

Just as you finished filing away the cases that were not chosen, you heard your door open. You looked up and watched Emily hobble in. You shut the drawer and turned towards the computer, pretending to look busy “What can I do for you, Ma’am?” you asked as calmly as possible.

She frowned as you turned away, pulling up a chair next to you and sitting down “I figured I would join you here, It doesn’t make any sense for us to be in two different rooms and I don’t wanna take you away from your equipment” She smiled at you “I’ve told you this before, you can call me Emily”

You glanced at her and immediately brought your eyes back to the computer “You’re right, it does make more sense.” You ignore her comment, afraid to even let her name come out of your mouth. You two sit in silence for a minute before the phone rang. You answered in faster than you should have.

“What can I do for you, honey bunny?” You asked, silently thanking spencer for calling

“Uh need you to find who was at the Spotted Cat Jazz Club on Friday night. ” He said, papers shuffling in the background.

“Okay…” you murmured, beginning to type on your computer “do you have anything to help narrow that down? Friday night during spring break in a New Orleans jazz club. An ID scanner, camera footage? Anything? I’m no Garcia” You joked.

“Yeah I am having the club send footage and give you access to the scanner database” Luke interrupted.

“Thank you! I will get back to you as soon as we find anything” you said, hanging up and beginning to dig through the footage and ID numbers for a match as you felt Emily’s eyes burning into you.

“Why would you say that?” She asked.

“Say what?” You glanced over at her before going back to the computer. She furrowed her eyebrows “That you’re no Garcia. She recommended you, that’s why you were chosen. You have done nothing but prove your abilities time and time again. You’re incredibly talented.” She placed a hand on your wrist.

You froze “Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate it” you said, looking at her thumb rubbing circles on your wrist.

“Why do you refuse to call me Emily?” she asked just as a match appeared on the computer “I have nothing against calling you by your name” You said, calling Luke to avoid this conversation going to a place where you'll have to admit the fact that her name causes your stomach to erupt in butterflies.

“Hey Techie, got anything good?”

“I always do. Willard Ross, arrested for agravated assault with a weapon.” You said, stiffening as Emily leaned in closer “The weapon was an axe…” She muttered.

“I am sending over his information right now” You said, pushing your glasses up.

“What would we do without you? Great work” Tara shouted over Lukes phone.

“I know, Go catch him” you said, hanging up with a smile. You turned towards Emily for the first time today “Good job, tech” she said, patting your shoulder. Your muscles tensed under her touch, yet she did not remove her hand or move away from you “But you didn’t answer my question.”

“I did, I-I have nothing against calling you by your name” You repeated, not daring to look beyond the screen in front of you.

“Thats not an answer” she paused for a moment and watched your body language. Flushed cheeks, elevated heartrate, stiff, stuttering. A cheshire smile spread across her face. “Call me Emily.” She murmured.

That was what finally made you spin around to face her, lips parted and eyes wide in shock. Your heart felt like it was pounding out of her chest.

“Did you not hear me? Call. Me. Emily” she persisted

“Emily” you finally said, barely louder than a whisper. She grinned even wider, patting your cheek “Now was that so hard?” she cooed, rubbing her thumb across your jawbone as you leaned into her touch, closing your eyes “You really aren’t good at answering questions.” she chuckled, letting go of your face and leaning back in her chair.

“Please don’t tease me” You pleaded, turning back to your computer, “I really don’t think I could take it.” you said with a huff, pressing your palms to your face to try to cool down.

“How could I tease you? You’re such a good girl.” She practically purred.

Your breath hitched “Thats- I- Uh” your hands froze, shaking over your keyboard. Your eyes darted around the screen as you felt your chest rise and fall more rapidly “Thats hardly appropriate, Ma’am” You managed to get out.

“Oh? Then should we finish this conversation at my house tonight?” She asked, tilting her head.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x female reader #Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader #emily prentiss fanfiction

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wolfjackle-creates · 11 months

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Ghost!Robin Part 11

Time for another WIP Wednesday! I'm not sure if I'll have anything for next week. I'm working on a one shot right now as I can and wrapping up stuff for my final week of work which is taking a ton of time. Though I did get on a roll today and wrote a bit more than I'm posting, so maybe I'll have something.

Story Summary: Danny was invited to dinner at Wayne Manor to meet Jazz's boyfriend and his family for the first time. He worked hard to make sure no ghost business would interrupt the evening. But when he arrived, all he could focus on was the ghost of the dead Robin that seemed to haunt Jason. Looks like he was breaking his promise.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.4k

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“Hn. What is the range on these devices?” asked Bruce.

Danny shrugged. “My stuff? From anywhere. I track through the Infinite Realms, not by Earth. GIW? Jason-Robin, they’ll be able to detect something from probably ten miles out of city limits, but they’d need to be within half a mile to get an accurate location. The Fentons? Mile or so. They get an exact location or nothing.”

Tim asked, “Is it likely the Fenton’s will come to Gotham?”

“Not sure,” admitted Danny. “But they sell commercially, so other ghost hunters might have their equipment. Jazz, pass the Fenton Finder?”

Damian couldn’t keep the incredulity out of his voice when he finally saw the blocky silver device with a circular, green screen on it and bits sticking up out of the front. “Why is there a light bulb attached to it?”

Even Robin looked at the device with a raised eyebrow and sent out a silent this real? his way.

“It flashes when a ghost is nearby,” Danny replied to both of them.

Tim hummed in interest. “Are the visible antennae necessary? Why are there multiple?”

“Most of my parents designs were cobbled together with whatever they could cannibalize from other household electronics and junk yards. Hence the less stream-lined appearance compared to the Guys in White’s stuff.”

He flicked the switch to turn it on and instantly the light bulb was flashing red, the radar screen turned on showing several dots in close vicinity to the center, and a robotic voice said, “You are surrounded by multiple ghosts. You’d have to be an idiot to not notice the ghosts all around you.”

Danny let it read out it’s warning again before flicking it back off. He had to laugh at the looks of complete bafflement on basically everyone’s faces. Even Bruce raised an eyebrow at it.

“Yeah, that’s my parents for you. FentonWorks designs are at least easy to spot. Not the the Guys in White’s stuff is much better. That horrible white on everything…” Danny shuddered. “I hate white.”

Bruce hummed. “Will you be able to provide us with some of these devices so we can study them on our own?”

Danny bit at his lower lip. “Probably. But it’ll have to wait until after I get you the information on how to safely work with ectoplasm. If Tim and Barbara are your big tech people, they’re not liminal at all and will have to be careful when handling it.”

Tim added, “We do have extensive experience working with toxic chemicals. Many of the Gotham rogues use chemical warfare.”

“Right. Yeah, I’ll have Tucker send you the safety sheets on it and we’ll see what devices I’ve got or can make duplicates of to get to you. I’ll be sure you get all three styles of hand-held trackers and their schematics. Maybe I’ll even be able to get you the schematics for a larger tracking system like what my parents have set up in Amity.”

Barbara nodded. “That would be great. What sort of set up do your parents have in your home town?”

“So they’ve set up sensors all over the city that detect ectoplasmic activity. The signal gets sent back to the computer in the ops center they built on top of their house, and they can pin the exact location of any ghost to within a foot or two anywhere within, like, five miles of the city limits. That data is also shared with the computer in their GAV.”

Jason bumped Jazz’s shoulder with his. “I know I’m gonna regret this, but what’s the ‘GAV’?”

Jazz sighed and answered. “It stands for Ghost Assault Vehicle. It’s a modified RV that’s basically a tank. Jack and Maddie simply have to press a button and a dozen ghost weapons will protrude from the vehicle and aim for any nearby ghost. And that’s without Maddie shoving her entire upper body out the window while holding a bazooka.”

“Yep. I regret asking. How badly am I gonna want to murder your parents by the time I’m done learning about them?”

“They are not my parents.” Jazz’s voice was hard.

At the same time, Danny answered, “Depends. How do you feel about genocidal mad scientists?”

Jason just let his head bang on the table. Robin flew over to him and patted him on the back. Jason seemed to subconsciously lean into the touch.

“Now,” said Danny. “I promised I’d show the rest of you these scanners up close.”

“That would be appreciated,” said Bruce. “We also have a few more questions about you and your parents.”

“And I need you to tell me more about these Lazarus pits because those sound like they’re a disaster.”

Alfred cleared his throat. “And I believe that will have to be the end of this meeting tonight. It is getting late and at least some of you will insist on going on patrol tonight still.”

A few people grumbled at Alfred’s words, but no one argued.

Danny made his way to the other side of the table and went over how to use the devices again. He pretended not to notice the way Jazz flinched when he turned on the Fenton Finder and it called out its warning again.

Jason did put an arm around her in response, though, so he figured she’d be all right.

“So that’s that,” he said once he turned off the last device. “I won’t be showing you any weapons until after we get you up to date on ghost biology and culture. If you run into issues in the meantime, you can call Jazz or me and we’ll take care of it.”

Bruce nodded. “We’ll be following up with our own experts as well.”

“Of course,” agreed Danny. “I figured. Now, you had some more questions?”

Tim asked, “You mentioned to me and Alfred that a member of Justice League Dark stopped by Amity. Can you tell us more about that?”

“I mean, there’s not much to tell,” said Danny. “It was John Constantine. And at the time I had no idea how famous he was. Would’ve asked for an autograph if I had, but oh well. This was shortly after I defeated Pariah Dark, the previous Ghost King. He came in, asked if I needed help. I told him I got it covered, he gave me a phone number, and that was that.”

Bruce hummed. “Yes, that sounds like Constantine. We will speak to him.”

“Why?” asked Danny. “It was exactly what I wanted. A check in to confirm I was okay and someone to reach out to on Earth if I got in over my head. It’s just by that time I started getting allies in the Realms. The big concern Earth-side was ghost hunters. And the worst of them were government sanctioned so I wasn’t sure if I should reach out to the Justice League since you guys also work with the US government.”

Jason let out a noise that Danny could only think of as a growl. “He should have spent enough time there to answer questions like that.”

Danny snorted. “Less than a week before he arrived, our entire town was removed from Earth and brought into the Infinite Realms for multiple days. Something would’ve been very wrong with him if he’d stuck around longer than it took to confirm it wasn’t likely to happen again.”

“I’m sorry,” asked Steph, “what is that about your entire town being transported off earth?”

“Don’t you know? My friends and I figured that’s why you sent Constantine to us.”

Barbara shook her head as she clicked around her computer. “There’s nothing in the Justice League files about it.”

“Huh. Well that’s how I became the Ghost King. The previous king was released by an idiot and lured to Amity. Ended up bringing the entire town into the Realms. His goal was to take over the town then the rest of earth. I defeated him in single combat while some other ghosts helped hold back his armies. No one bothered to tell me until later that that meant won his titles as well.”

Dick was frowning at him. “Why did you have to be the one to defeat him?”

Danny just blinked at him in confusion. “Who else was there? My accident is what activated the portal and started letting ghosts through. By making me half ghost, I had the powers necessary to contain the ones who caused problems. My parents were incompetent at best. So I just did what had to be done. Besides, if I hadn’t been an idiot, the portal never would’ve turned on in the first place. So it was my responsibility to fix it.”

----------

And no one at the table liked that answer! The end of the dinner is finally in sight! I know I'm overlooking characters. I'll do some editing to make sure everyone gets a say before I eventually get around to posting this to AO3. (It's a good part of the reason I haven't started cross posting, tbh. That and I like to have stories fully finished before I start posting.)

Hope you all enjoy.

Tag List Part 1:

@addie-lover-of-stories, @justwannabecat, @gin2212, @amercurio, @regonold, @overtherose, @readerzj, @sjrose1216, @echoednonny, @deeterzz, @blu-lilac, @number-one-jew, @rowanaway-fromthisbs, @vythika96, @tired-yet-awaken, @themirrorghost, @emeraldcorpral, @all-mights-asscheeks, @darkhinauniverse, @blep-23, @phandomhyperfixationblog, @larkcoe1, @thegatorsgoose, @job-ross-the-second, @britcision, @lenacraft, @bubblemixer, @androgynouslordofescapism, @purefrickingspite, @leftmiraclechaos, @lizisipancardo, @starlight-sparks, @miraculousandmore, @gildedphoenix, @sometimesthingsfallapart, @letmesayfuxk, @phoenixcatch7, @skulld3mort-1fan, @abaowo, @dhampir-princess, @idkmrpianoman, @sarina-elais, @ballzfrog-blog, @undead-essence, @spookytragedyshark, @flyingpansaurus, @akintoabitch, @marivictal, @8-29pm, @justreadingthefanfics, @happybear135, @kisatamao, @spoopyspoony, @adorablechaos, @sara0055, @screamingtofillthevoid

#dpxdc #danny fenton #jazz fenton #all the bats #anger management #my writing #were finally moving past the distrust!#at least a bit #constantine felt a chill go down his spine #he's gonna be spending longer than he'd like avoiding bats after this night #danny has no idea what he just unleashed on the wizard

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ilcuoreardendo-fic · 2 months

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A Hole in the Universe

They let him onto the Marauder after a short time, reluctant and suspicious but willing to give that much ground.

Crosshair almost wishes they hadn’t.

The ship looks the same. It smells the same.

It isn’t.

Nothing is.

The first thing he sees are the broken goggles perched on the console like it’s a shrine.

And for a moment, he’s back on Tantiss, waking up from a short afternoon sleep – because what else was there to do?– with his whole body aching like he’d taken a beating, his mind racing, his heart pounding.

He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. He thought his heart might stop as it skipped a beat, then settled, continued pumping. Slow. Steady. Strong.

He’d known then. Weeks before the kid confirmed it.

Crosshair picks up the goggles and slumps into one of the jump chairs.

He feels and hears the others move around him in silence, getting the ship ready for flight.

The Marauder never used to be silent; it had always been full of Tech’s voice, spitting facts or figures, talking of upgrades; full of the sounds of him fiddling with the instrument panel, the wiring, some new device he was working on.

Tech’s presence, Tech’s voice has been the constant in his life since they came out of their growth tubes moments apart, Tech a few seconds earlier than him.

He cradles the goggles. The frame is whole, undented. Barely scratched. The recorder is missing. Taken? He brushes his thumb over the broken lenses; a fine shard of glass bites into his skin, leaves a smear of blood across the glass.

The shudder that passes through him makes the seat vibrate; from the side of his eye, he sees Omega step toward him, sees Hunter shake his head and gently redirect her.

He closes his eyes.

Crosshair’s never been much for the spiritual, doesn’t know what to think about what comes after death or gods or demons or even the Jedi’s Force.

But if the Force is something beyond the flashy moves he’s seen on the battlefield, if it’s the something that ties everything in the universe together, he knows that there’s a ragged hole in it where Tech once was.

_____

I saw someone pondering Crosshair's reaction to seeing the goggles and yeah. Just a little exercise around loss.

#crosshair bad batch #crosshair (tbb)#tech bad batch #tech's goggles #the bad batch #tech (tbb)#star wars: the bad batch #tbb season 3 #tbb spoilers #sw fic #batch twins #tbb media #tech's death

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lou-struck · 25 days

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Dodge This!

Mirio Togata x reader (ft. Tamaki Amajiki)

~ Mirio has a new hobby and he just had to bring you along to cheer him on.

W.C. 2.6k

a/n: this was a sleep-deprived idea but I really am happy at how this turned out. I really had to incorporate some non-canon pop culture references for narrative sake.

The dimly lit pathways do little to conceal the drying puddles of rainwater on the street around you as you and your boyfriend, Mirio Togata, pass rows of darkened buildings in the city's warehouse district.

"Are you sure we're heading to the right place, Mirio?" You whisper, looking around for any sign of another person. "It seems awfully quiet around here."

He gives you a smile and drapes one of his strong arms around you, pulling you close. "There's nothing to worry about, y/n; we'll get to the gym soon. I just can't wait for you to see me play."

The game in question, dodgeball…

It's no secret pro heroes have some of the hardest jobs out there. Over time, pros have found ways to unwind after work just like everyone else, joining book clubs, poker groups, and adult sports teams.

The latter of which has been gaining more traction in recent years.

After hearing about a quirk-friendly recreational dodgeball league, Mirio jumped at the chance to sign up for a chance to use his quirk for something other than work. The first few times he had gone out, he returned sweaty, slightly bruised from ducking and diving against the gym floor, but more happy than you have seen him in a while.

This is saying something because he is literally a big ball of Sunshine, hope, and optimism. All wrapped in a thick coating of good humor and affection.

At first, you did not want to go. Not because you weren't interested in watching a bunch of Pro Heroes throw rubber balls at one another but because it seemed like this was his thing. This little league has been so therapeutic for him you didn't want to inject yourself into the experience. But after weeks of pleading from him, you finally relented, knowing that in your heart, he wants to share this new and exciting part of his life with you, the person he loves most in the world.

"Oh, watch your step there," he says suddenly. His large forearm shoots out in front of your stomach to stop you from stepping into a massive pothole full of rainwater.

"Thank you." Looking down into the deep hole in the ground, you shudder, imagining the uncomfortable sensation of walking around all night with a sock drenched in rainwater. "You really saved me there, Lemillion." your smile is soft as you meet his twinkling gaze.

His smiling cheeks flush a light pink color at the soft way you said his Hero name. "Anything for you," he beams, taking your hand and guiding you over the obnoxiously large puddle. His hand stays comfortably on your own as you continue walking down the paved street. He happily hums the Mission Impossible theme song, his current hyper-fixation, until he comes to a stop in front of a large warehouse. The white fluorescent light on the outside flickers as it is circled by big white moths.

"And here we are," he declares, turning his attention to you. His features turn serious as he places both of his hands on your shoulder. "Now, do you remember the first rule of underground dodgeball?"

"Ummm, don't talk about underground dodgeball?" you reply as his poker face shatters into his usual joyful features.

"That's it,” he laughs, his body practically buzzing with excitement.

"I should've never made you watch Fight Club, "you mutter under your breath as he takes some sort of access card out of his jacket pocket and slides it into the electronic lock. It beeps in response and the little red light on the side of the sensor turns from red to green as the metal doors open for the both of you.

You are flabbergasted at the complexity of the private facility. "All this for dodgeball?" this is kinda high tech, and you wonder which one of the country's extremely wealthy, retired Pro Heroes decided to fund this operation.

"Yeah, isn't it the best?" he asks, practically bounding down the short hallway toward the ever-growing sound of chatter. His mannerisms remind you of a golden retriever on its way to the dog park. The mental image brings a smile to your lips as you step into a massive gymnasium, its warm overhead lights illuminating the whole room.

A massive indoor sports court lies in the center of the room, surrounded by a few rows of bleachers.

There are already a multitude of heroes and sidekicks standing around the room, some tossing red rubber balls into the padded walls with a scary strength behind them. The impact sends shivers down your spine as you worriedly look to Mirio. But he doesn't seem nervous in the slightest at the possibility of decapitation by rubber ball. Instead, his blue eyes are alight with the fires of competitive determination.

"This is…" The word frightening lingers on the tip of your tongue, but he beats you to the punch.

"Incredible isn't it? In here we get to let loose a bit and have fun without worrying about our rankings or the media."

You nod, noticing the carefree smiles of the other Heroes in the room. This league is a good thing for them to have fun and just act like they are normal people whilst throwing rubber balls at each other.

He looks at the clock counting down on the switchboard above the gym and shoots you an embarrassed grin. "It looks like we are cutting it a bit close today. My game starts in five minutes, so I'll have to warm up a bit so I can really impress you."

"I'm already impressed with you Mirio," you smile fondly. "I'll go up to the bleachers and get all settled in."

You turn to leave him to his own devices, and you feel a gentle pull on your wrist before you can step away. "Wait," he says firmly, the look on his face dead serious. "You're forgetting something."

"You cock your head to the side and try to remember what he could be talking about. When he sees that furrow in your brow, his serious face melts away, revealing that mischievous boyish grin that never fails to make your heart skip a beat. "You forgot my good luck kiss."

"Oh my," you mock gasp, "how could I forget such an important thing?"

He shakes his head, "It's a crime for sure; you'll have to pay double for this infraction."

"I think that can be arranged," you chuckle, closing the short distance between your two bodies and pressing two gentle pecks to his lips. The kiss is brief, but you can still taste the berry-flavored chapstick he put on earlier lingering on his lips.

You pull away and playfully tug down on the hem of his shirt. "Good luck, Mirio," you murmur, nudging him off toward the court where his other teammates are waiting for him.

It's a short walk up a lightweight metal staircase to the raised bleachers. Since these leagues are pretty low profile, there aren't many spectators. You see a few groups of people waiting to play in the next round, but near the back of the bleachers, you spot a familiar-looking head of indigo hair sitting all by themselves.

"Hello, Tamaki," you say, coming over to sit next to your friend. "I didn't know you were on one of the dodgeball teams."

"I'm not," he replies, popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth. The heavenly aroma of butter fills your nostrils as you pull your gaze away from the bag he must've gotten from one of the little concession areas in the warehouse. "But someone at my agency wanted to make plans tonight, and I told them I was busy, so I decided to come here so I wasn't lying to them."

"Oh, I get it," you say sympathetically. "But I'm glad you're here. I don't really know anyone else, so it will be nice to have someone to talk to."

He gives you a small smile and tilts his popcorn bag towards you. "Thanks y/n. Here, take some. I saw you were looking at it earlier."

"Thank you," you smile embarrassedly at the realization you are just as sneaky as Mirio. "Was it that obvious?"

"Just a little bit," he says.

Suddenly, you are interrupted by the sound of a rubber ball hitting the wall with a terrifying force. It barrels back at the player who threw it like a boomerang. "Wow, do these balls just not pop?"

"Not usually," Tamaki says. "Since these games are for Pro Heros, the equipment was designed by support specialists to be extra durable. Occasionally, things will break, but it's way less common than with normal equipment."

"I see," you say quietly. Instinctually, your eyes dart over to Mirio in concern, but he looks so genuinely happy stretching and talking with his teammates it gives you a sense of security. If he isn't worried, you shouldn't be either.

A short man in a referee uniform steps up to the side of the court and blows the silver whistle from around his neck. The clear, high-pitched sound echoes off the walls, signaling to the teams of six to take the court.

A line of red rubber balls sit motionless in the center of the court. The players are touching the back walls with just the tips of their fingers as they stare the balls down hungrily as they try to decide which one to go for first.

There is a competitive intensity in the air that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up, but when you finally zero in on your boyfriend on the court, he doesn't seem to be at all intimidated.

Instead of the balls or his opponents or anything else game-related, you see that he is looking up in the bleachers right at you. A big, goofy grin rests on his face as he waves up at you enthusiastically.

You laugh and give him a small wave back just as the starting whistle blows, and both teams are off. Mario doesn't run toward the line of ammunition at all; he hangs back and paces across the floor with an open, unassuming posture that basically invites his opponents to chuck a ball at his chest.

It doesn't take long until the first player takes the bait. A woman with plum-colored skin and a long silver ponytail steps up and throws the ball his way with a wicked speed. It has a slight backspin as it barrels toward his face.

It gets closer and closer until he activates his quirk, and it passes harmlessly through his body and hits the wall behind him. If it weren't for the special workout clothes he was wearing, you would worry about him sinking through the ground and popping up completely naked.

"Nice throw," he smiles, crouching slightly to pick up the now harmless ball. "If that had hit me, I would definitely feel that tomorrow." He winds up his throw and slings it across the court with a curve.

The woman dodged just barely, but the man behind her wasn't so lucky. The ball hits one of his spring-loaded knees as he tries to leap out of the way and is sent off by the referee.

"Way to go Mirio." you cheer happily. When the sound of your voice reaches his ear, he can't help but puff out his chest with pride.

'Watch me,' he mouths, stepping into the middle of the court.

"Looks like someone is getting overconfident," Tamaki mutters next to you.

"What do you mean?" you ask as Mirio sneaks a smile your way just as his opponents throw three balls at him at once. Thanks to his quirk, he is basically untouchable. If this whole 'hero thing' doesn't work out, you are sure he will have a promising career in the underground dodgeball circuit.

Because that is totally a real thing.

"Wow, he's incredible," you murmur to Tamaki.

"He is," the hero replies, "but Mirio has a weakness."

"Really?" you ask, struggling to think of how he can lose at this game, "how so?"

"Just watch, you'll see what I mean," he replies, taking a long sip from his water bottle.

And watch you do.

As the game rages on, Mirio's teammates are picked off one by one until Mirio finds himself staring down his opponents. The woman with the silver ponytail and the man with the strength quirk you saw earlier warming up. 2 vs. 1 may not be a fair fight, but you have full faith in your boyfriend.

His evasive maneuvers are professional and practiced. He is so good at dodging, ducking, dipping, diving, and dodging some more until all of the balls on the playing field end up on his side, safely out of his opponent's reach.

With a bright red ball in his hand, you see him wind up his throw, rush to the top of the court, and send it flying through the air with all his might.

But the man from before, smiling in his black leather singlet (which cannot be comfortable), catches the ball with one of his giant hands as if it were a balloon.

Mirio is out.

The ref blows the final whistle, and the match ends.

After shaking hands with each one of his opponents, his smile falls, and he sulks over to you with his head hung low. "Ahhh, I was so close," he groans, plopping down next to you and leaning his sweat-dusted brow on your shoulder.

"But you played so well," you say gently, consoling him. "This is so much fun to watch. Thank you for inviting me."

He perks up and puts his chin on your shoulder. "You had fun?"

You nod and press your lips to his forehead. "So much fun."

Tamaki clears his throat. "You player well, fo you play again?"

"Tamaki, thank you for coming." Mirio smiles, looking over to his best friend. "Yeah, I think we play again after this game. Do you want to play? I think we can add in an extra player."

The indigo-haired man's eyes go wide as he starts to shake his head. "N-no, I can't."

"Why not?" Mirio asks cocking his head to the side."

You watch as Tamaki tries to come up with an excuse. “Because… because…”

"That doesn't sound like a reason to me." you hum thoughtfully.

Mirio claps his hands together. "Perfect, then you'll be playing on my team in the next round."

"We could get ice cream afterward." you offer as the shy hero accepts his fate.

He narrows his eyes. "Fine, I'll play. But you're paying."

"Done," you agree, as your boyfriend looks like he is about to burst from happiness at the idea of playing dodgeball with his best friend.

"This is great!" he exclaims, patting Tamaki on the back. "There's extra clothes in the locker room in the back, go get changed."

"You sound too excited about this," Suneater mumbles as he heads off toward where the locker room must be, with the slightest hint of pep in his step.

Your boyfriend looks at you warmly, his sapphire eyes filled with love as he takes your hand. "Thank you for helping me convince him to play. I think this will be good for him to let loose a bit."

"I think you guys will have fun." you say earnestly, "I can't wait to watch."

Mirio gently pokes your cheeks.

"Hey y/n?"

"Babe?"

"The love of my life?"

You scoff as his enthusiasm brings a smile to your lips. "Yes?"

"If we win the next game can I get two scoops?" he leans in close to you and peppers your face with bribing kisses, your favorite form of currency."

"Mirio, if you win. I'll get you three scoops."

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

#my hero academia mirio #bnha #mha #my hero academia #Mirio x reader #mirio togata x reader #x reader #tamaki amakiji #mirio togata #mha fluff

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seoafin · 11 months

Text

dog days are over | chapter four

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader x geto suguru warnings/tags (for this chapter): NSFW, fem!receiving oral, menace geto.... word count: ~6.1k

fic masterlist read on ao3

Satoru is mad at Suguru.

You’re sure of it. That was why Satoru kissed you that night in the garden. Once you reached the obvious answer, you were relieved, satisfied, and then panicked. If there was one thing you dreaded the most, it was coming between Satoru and Suguru, especially when they were fighting. To you, it was always better to steer clear of everything their heightened emotions entailed. You are sure Satoru would come to regret it, if he didn't already. You don't know how to face him again.

You blankly stare at the ceiling of your room. It’s been a week since you last saw Satoru and Suguru and Shoko. Or the kids. You had come straight home that night and had fallen asleep in a heap of exhaustion, a brief reprieve before the dull gray sunlight of the winter morning had woken you up again. The memories of the previous night paralyzed you in shock. Satoru kissed you.

It hadn’t been…unpleasant.

Panic seizes your chest. You whip up, tearing the sheets off of you, breathing heavily. You will yourself not to think about it. There is nothing to think about. It happened. Satoru had a score to settle with Suguru. It happened. Satoru gets competitive and sometimes, when he and Suguru really fight, they hurt each other with a singleminded focus that always draws in casualties.

You are a casualty.

You’d be off to Nagoya tonight for a couple of days, assisting the local jujutsu sorcerers with a quick footed curse that had been giving them much trouble. You’d stop by the school to drop off paperwork, and then you’d catch a taxi to the train station where an auxiliary manager would meet and brief you. There was no reason for Satoru and Suguru to be at the college. Shoko would be there, but you knew her schedule well enough to know she’d be buried in her own duties to seek you out. Utahime was visiting on the weekend, and she wanted to finish up her paperwork early before she came.

It’d be easy. If you could just muster the strength to get up and leave your apartment. You don’t know how an everyday task can turn so daunting in a blink of an eye. The thought of running into Satoru makes your blood pressure rise. If you ran into Suguru, you’d probably kill yourself from the shame.

Outside your window, a tree branch rustles. You look outside. There's nothing there.

Slowly, lethargically, you wash, take a shower, and dress. When you leave the safety and familiarity of your apartment, you take a shuddering breath and force yourself forward.

It takes you 30 minutes to get to Jujutsu Tech. The familiarity grounds you enough that you can keep to your thoughts as you make the journey up the mountain and up the stairs, through the torii gate, and onto the campus.

To get to Yaga's office, you cut through the courtyard of the school building straight towards the staircase to get to the third floor. When you reach his office, before you can knock, the door slides open, bringing you face first with a hard chest. You catch yourself at the same time an arm around your waist steadies you.

Just as you think to yourself that this can’t be happening again, you meet a dark green gaze.

“Ah!” A voice exclaims.

You blink as the man comes into focus. “Hideo-kun…”

“What a coincidence,” he grins. “To see you here of all places,” he glances down, at your conjoined positions. “Just like this!”

His enthusiastic attitude is infectious. The anxiety that has been weighing on you dissipates just a little. You manage a smile. “I’m not usually this clumsy,” you say apologetically.

“No worries!” He drops his arms, he cocks his head to the side in a question. “Are you looking for Masamichi-sensei?”

“I am.” You peer past him to find Yaga absent from his usual place behind the large, oak desk. “But it’s fine,” you raise the paperwork in your hand and give it a little wave. “I’ll just put this on his desk.”

“I thought I might be able to talk to him today, but I guess that’ll have to wait,” he muses. At your inquiring gaze, he says, “Just to finalize my transfer from Kyoto.”

“Is everything coming together well?”

“I'm moving into my apartment this weekend.” A laugh. “I still find myself getting lost on the subway though. I never thought a city could be so busy!”

“It takes time getting used to,” you sympathize. You’ve lived in Tokyo your whole life. You are intimately familiar with the streets and back alleys and crowds, but you can understand how someone who has lived his entire life in Kyoto could find Tokyo an urban jungle. Kyoto is quieter, stiller. More traditional. A mesh of old cobblestone streets lined with traditional and modern architecture. “But if you ever have free time on your hands…I’d love to help you get acquainted with the city.”

He beams. “Would you? I’ll take you up on that offer.”

You figure it’s the least you could do. Hideo had helped you as a child. If you could help him in some way now, you would be repaying him. Besides, after Satoru’s behavior last week…

You hesitate, drawing back his attention. It’s been weighing on your mind. You spent the better part of the week formulating an apology in case you ever saw Hideo again. “I’m sorry for Satoru’s behavior last week. He’s not usually so…”

Abrupt? Irritated? Mean? A bully?

You realize that Satoru is, indeed, all these things, and at times, worse. You try again. “He was in a bad mood.” He kissed you. You felt his tongue impatiently run along the seam of your lips like a warning. You felt him in your mouth, a force of nature all on its own and his body pinning you to the wall, his hands hiking up your dress, up your legs, your side, your face. His thigh slotted between your own, pressing into you—

Your smile feels off. There is a warmth in your face that is accompanied by a feeling of slow dread. “You caught him at a bad time.”

Hideo blinks in confusion, before his face breaks into something understanding. “Oh, that was nothing!” Hideo says agreeably, nonchalant. “Gojo-sama is usually much more intimidating!"

“Is that so…” It's odd to be faced with such a narrow view of Satoru. Satoru could be intimidating, but you know he’s so much more. It’s not the first word you’d use to describe him. Boredom comes to him easily, in the casual indifference in the set of his face, as does the distance in his eyes that have always held the clarity of the heavens.

But you’ve never doubted the intention of his gaze when he looks at you. He sees you. As reassuring and terrifying as it is. You think of his hand pressed against yours, the weight and the warmth. You think of him sad. His head tucked into the crook of your shoulder, the redness of his eyes afterward. Taken off guard, he can be quick to anger, but you’ve seen him compose himself in seconds. You’ve seen him silent, the anger brewing in the cloud of his face, the turbulent storm of his eyes, when it feels like even a wrong breath could set him alight.

Then you think of Satoru stubbing his toe on Suguru’s desk in your first year, and the way he curled up on the floor in the seconds after, pale faced. He pretended to walk with a limp for the next three days after Suguru had cast him out of the room for being an annoyance, and when Yaga had sent him to the training yard he had refused, citing grievous injury to his being.

You know him. You know Suguru too, all of the contradictions of his nature. His kindness and his occasional pettiness, the barbed sharpness of his words and how easily condescension comes to him, especially with Satoru urging him at his side. How hard he tries to be better, to wrangle the darkness that beckons him, that bone deep disdain for others that incites the worst in him.

It’s a comforting fact. They make each other better. And worse. Which makes you feel even more horrible for coming in between the two of them. There’s so much confusion. You don’t understand. It feels like you don’t know them anymore. Maybe you never even knew them in the first place. Maybe you shouldn’t have assumed it.

“I never thought he’d ever deign to talk to me though,” Hideo chuckles, oblivious to your inner turmoil. “It was my first time seeing him up so close. Personally, the thought of talking to him so casually makes me break out into a sweat!"

Casually...You suppose...you suppose you do talk to Satoru rather casually, don't you? You wonder if people notice when you call him Satoru. Your days of regarding him as Gojo-san are nothing more a distant memory. You like the shape of his name on your tongue, just as you like saying Suguru and Shoko. It's proof and permission. You wonder if you'll have to revert back to Gojo-san if Satoru decides he hates you. Suguru too.

The nerves underneath your skin buzzes. You hear it in your ears. The distant beating of your heart.

“The two of you went here together, didn’t you?” Hideo gestures to the school. “With Ieiri-san and Geto-sama too.”

“That’s right,” you reply absently, thinking about all the time you spent in these halls as a high schooler. Jujustu tech, your first home.

“I’m jealous. I went to the Kyoto branch, but if I had known you were here I would’ve transferred earlier!”

You would’ve liked that, you think. Though, you’re not sure how Hideo would’ve responded to your despondent high school self. You think he would’ve steered clear away from you. You still don’t know how you had miraculously managed Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko. One day you had been alone, and then the next day, you weren’t. You’ll spend your life grateful they decided you worth it.

“I spoke to Ieiri-san earlier too.” Your attention returns to him at the mention of Shoko. “She speaks very highly of you.”

“Oh,” The buzzy feeling fades. You feel more tethered to your feet on the floor. To the ground. You feel warm all over. “Did she really?” You try not to look too happy, or eager. Hideo studies you with keen green eyes.

“You really love her, don’t you?”

Shoko, who had reached out to you for the first time by offering you a drink from the vending machine and a drag of her lit cigarette. You gently refused the cigarette but accepted the drink with shaking, nervous hands. It was the first time someone had offered you a drink.

“I do. She’s one of my closest friends…”

Hideo regards you softly. “That’s wonderful. I’m glad you weren’t alone.”

You raise your gaze and he smiles sheepishly, scratching his cheek. "When we were children, you always seemed...lonely." There's an awkward pause. "Well, I should leave you be!” He moves to turn down the hall, and stops. Looks at you and asks, “You wouldn’t happen to know where the cafeteria is?”

You direct him to the cafeteria. Before he leaves he asks for your phone and inputs his contact information inside. He gives you a small salute with two of his fingers.

Once he disappears down the hall, you enter Yaga office. You reach your teacher’s desk, but as you reach down to place your folder in the middle of his desk, you accidentally knock one of the three picture frames on his desk over. It hits the desk, face down. You pick it up to right it when you stop, and stare.

It’s you. Or more accurately, it’s an old picture of you from middle school in front of your school’s gates, staring grimly at the camera as if you’re seconds away from being put to death. It’s a severe expression you can’t quite place. Was there ever a time you looked like this? Clearly, there is, considering the picture in your hands. There’s a cast wrapped around your arm. Something nudges at your brain. A clean fracture. Blinding pain and then numbness. You passed out, slept through the worst, and when you woke up it hurt less. Your arm prickles at the memory.

It’s funny how memory works.

“Have you picked your bags?” Yaga sensibly says from the doorway. “If you leave in an hour, there won’t be as much traffic.”

Your hand lowers as you turn around to face him. “I left my bag with an auxiliary manager.”

You resume looking at the picture, trying to remember when the photo was taken. Yaga approaches you, and puts a hand on your shoulder. “It was a couple months before you graduated. I wanted a picture because I knew I wouldn’t make it to your graduation.”

You glance up at his face, framed by a pair of sunglasses, the familiar heavy set of his eyebrows, and the stern silhouette of his face that you had initially been wary at. He had been gentle with you, kind in a way you forgot adults could be when you needed it the most. You are endlessly grateful for him.

“I didn’t know you had a picture of me in your office.” Smiling comes easier to you now. Happiness too. You know what it means to be happy.

“I’ve watched over you since then,” he says gruffly, but you think his voice sounds thick with emotion. “You’ve grown.”

The words make your throat grow thick. You put the picture frame down on the desk to avoid squeezing it too tightly. “Sometimes,” you say truthfully. “I don’t feel like it.”

Sometimes, you still feel sad and small. You float through your duties of the day, seeking refuge in the comfort of your bed when night falls. Keeping your eyes open becomes a struggle, and the thought of living out the rest of your days until your inevitable death becomes unbearable. Sometimes, everything feels like a dream. A warm, happy dream bound to come to an end. It makes you remember Satoru kissing you in the garden, and the cold truth of reality. You messed it all up. Everything is coming to an end, and it’s your fault.

There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach.

Yaga studies you, head tilted down. Then there's a hand on your shoulder. It's reassuring.

"It's hard for us jujutsu sorcerers to live a life without regrets," he starts. There's a pause. "But I don't want you to think it's wrong to try. Only you can decide how you want to live now." He pats you on the back. It's almost fatherly. It brings a sad smile to your lips.

You part from him after giving his hand a small squeeze.

You don’t know if you’ve lived a life without regrets, but you don’t regret the way you’ve lived. You’ve made it here, in one piece. It’s a comfortable existence. You are content. You are even given the privilege to be happier than you ever thought you’d be.

“I’ll be off now,” you say softly.

A nod. “Come back safely.”

Before you leave for the train station, you stop by the dorms, making a pit stop at your old room. You know the current students of jujustu tech, as few as they are, preferred the east wing of the dorm so it’s likely your room stayed vacant. You and Shoko’s rooms were in the west wing, a few halls from Suguru and Satoru’s room.

You open the door, taking in the surroundings of the room you had considered your first home.

It looks the same, barren from the lack of your belongings, but the same, as if you had touched it with your cursed technique the day you graduated. From the neatly arranged bed you had spent many nights and days in, to the desk in the corner Shoko had carved her name into. The empty bookshelf. You sweep your index finger over one of the shelves as dust gathers on your finger.

You sit on a bed that isn’t yours anymore and look around the room once more. Things were simpler in high school, you think. It was easy to get caught up in the small bubble of your environment. Your room. Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko. Everyday, familiar and new.

A knock on the door draws your attention. When the door opens, your stomach flips, body locking into place as you stare.

“S…Suguru…”

He’s not wearing his uniform. Just a white button up and belted black pants. You wonder why he’s here. You didn’t know he was going to be on campus today. You are wholly unprepared to face him (or Satoru) right now. You thought…you thought you at least had a month at most before having to face the consequences of your actions.

You abruptly stand, forcing your hands to your side, feeling sicker with every passing second. Does he know? Did Satoru tell him? You wouldn’t put it past him. Satoru wouldn’t go to the lengths he did just to not tell him. To gloat. Satoru can be petty like that. You wonder if he hates you. You betrayed his trust. You wouldn’t be surprised if he told you he never wanted to see you again. You should leave now, excuse yourself, before he breaks your heart to the point where you don’t think you’d ever recover.

What would happen to the kids if Satoru and Suguru decided to separate? They’re so happy now, living together in a nice apartment that feels like a home. You’d be responsible for splitting them up—

Suguru waves your phone in his hand. “You left this in Yaga’s office. He asked me to hand it off to you before you left.” There’s a light smile on his face, and you wonder if it’s his way of being kind before he tells you he never wants to see you again. His smile grows wider with hidden meaning. “I’m glad I caught you.”

You don’t know what’s worse. Suguru knowing you kissed Satoru, or Suguru not knowing. Your head is spinning.

“Thank you,” you say breathlessly as Suguru closes the door, and strolls to you, moving to hand you your phone. You hadn’t even noticed your lack of a phone. Satoru is going to be mad if he finds out. If he still even cares. When Suguru’s fingers brush yours, you jerk back with a step.

Suguru watches you intently as you squeeze your phone tight, feeling dread pool in your stomach. You stare at the floor before your gaze flits back up to him. You manage a small smile. “Sorry,” you say, about to side step him, “I should really get—”

He says your name, murmurs it so softly that when it reaches your ear, you falter. He gently seats you on the bed. You have no choice but to wordlessly obey. He follows after by crouching down so you can easily meet his gaze. It’d be a comforting gesture if not for your heart jumping into your throat.

“Is everything okay?” Suguru’s usual easy smile seems gently probing. “Did something happen at the party? With your…friend?” There it is. That odd emphasis, a slight odd discordant note, reminiscent of that night of the wedding. Suguru’s just worried about you. But there’s nothing to worry about. It’s all your fault.

He covers your hands with his own.

Your mouth goes dry. He doesn’t know. Your stomach drops and you can’t swallow. You can’t leave him in the dark, you can’t…keep on betraying his trust like this.

“No, not Hideo-kun!” You rush to correct. It pains you to think Suguru might be judging Hideo’s good character. “Hideo-kun is…” He reminds you of the past. Every painful detail. But amidst the bad, you had also forgotten the good, as temporary as it was. “I want to introduce him to you and Satoru.”

You think this conversation somewhat sounds like you’re introducing a lover to your parents. Then you think that Suguru is probably not going to want to meet Hideo, not after this conversation. You take an unsteady breath.

“Suguru,” you say quietly, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. It’s the last time you may ever see him so close, and you find yourself tracing the slant of his kind eyes, the slope of his nose, and the set of his lips. You love him, you really do. You love him and Satoru and Shoko to the point of memorization. You won’t forget him. Your nails dig into the fat of your palm. The truth is heavy on your tongue. “I kissed Satoru.”

It makes you feel marginally better. The act of confession. The truth is out. All the days and long nights you’ve spent agonizing and turning in your bed and even hiding from Shoko, all exposed.

Suguru’s face is unreadable. “I see.”

He’ll tell you he doesn’t want to see you anymore. That you aren’t welcome in his presence anymore, and you’ll take it gracefully.

You’ve been learning to live without them, after all.

Then his lips twitch.

You watch with increasing confusion as Suguru doesn’t scorn you. He simply studies you softly. “How?”

You’re at a loss. You blink at him. “What?”

He looks greatly amused. “Never mind. Why don’t you demonstrate?”

He slides a hand on the bed, by your waist, and rises. He takes your lips with his own, lowering you onto the bed. Suguru is kissing you. He smells faintly of sandalwood, as he always does, but somehow the scent is stronger with him right in front of you. There’s a pressure on your waist. You realize it’s Suguru’s hand.

When you separate, the hand rejoins the other on either side of your face. Suguru is above you, dark eyes lidded in an expression you’ve never seen before. A slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face. “Like that?”

You stare at him.

He doesn’t seem to mind your silence. He hums. “Or maybe.”

He captures your lips with an eagerness absent from the first kiss. It’s hungrier, more predatory. Wetter, when he opens your mouth to allow his tongue access. It’s a kiss that requires your active participation. Suguru’s teeth gently nip at your bottom lip, and you flicker to life underneath him, mouth widening as if falling open in shock, all as he gazes at you unfathomably.

Your eyes go wide, as Suguru brings a hand underneath your head to angle you closer to him. The warmth of him, the closeness. You never knew a kiss could feel so…good, and you are immediately conflicted. Whereas Satoru’s had been rougher, lips and tongue cowing you into submission, Suguru’s is slower. More thorough, with the same intense heat of Satoru’s.

Your face and thighs feel uncomfortably warm. Suguru’s knee is pressed right against your panties. Everything is too sensitive, and the heat in your stomach makes you want to squirm away.

Suguru’s lips release yours, allowing you to breathe. His lips hover close, the tip of your noses touching as you stare at him. Somewhere between the first kiss and the second, Suguru pulled down his hair, and now the dark strands curtain you into his gaze.

Your hands unclench from where they’ve been fisting his shirt, so tightly you popped a few buttons. You want to rebutton and straighten his shirt out, but your nerves are frayed raw, every one of your senses occupied by Suguru.

You don’t know what to say to him, and with him so close, you don’t even know where to start. Satoru kissed you. Then Suguru kissed you. You briefly wonder if you should be expecting a kiss from Shoko. You’d have to start preparing now. This could all just be some prank they decided to play on you. And a part of you hopes it to be true. It would make more sense than…whatever this is.

But it does. Suguru shares Satoru’s vindictive streak, after all.

His finger brushes your neck, pressing down on the bruise right above your collarbone. A shiver wracks your spine almost violently. You had almost forgotten about it. “This was from Satoru, wasn’t it?”

You struggle with the words. “Suguru this…isn’t the way…to resolve your issues with Satoru…”

He blinks, and up close, you can see the flutter of his dark eyelashes, the way the corner of his eyes soften when he smiles. There’s a laugh on the tip of his breath. “As uncomfortable as this is, this is exactly how to resolve things.”

Uncomfortable…? He must be referring to kissing you. It must not have been a pleasant experience.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, still breathless and flushed. “I’m not…” your face warms even more, self conscious, “good at it.”

“Good at it?” Suguru registers your meaning. His thumb strokes your bottom lip. “It was perfect,” he says decidedly, making you warmer. “Uncomfortable is…”

His gaze lowers. You follow his gaze. There’s an unmistakable tent in his pants.

Oh.

It’s a normal bodily response. It’s not as if it’s because of you.

You look away, as if to save him the embarrassment, but he laughs. Your heart races, feeling the fabric of your panties stick to the wetness between your thighs you’re sure Suguru can feel on his pants, through your skirt. You’re the only embarrassed one here. Suguru hasn’t made any move to rise up away from you, simply seeming content to look down on you, to watch you.

You’d do anything to move away from being the center of Suguru’s attention. To recollect yourself away from him. Every passing second in silence makes you want to curl up in your bed and die.

“Do you want me…to help?” Anything you could do to escape being underneath him. You aren't familiar with it, but it's nothing you can't figure out. You’d think of all the potential ramifications later, as soon as you aren't being pinned down to the bed by Suguru.

“Next time,” Suguru says like a promise, awfully casual, despite the way his thumb had paused on your face at the suggestion. “How about I help you?” He asks cheerfully.

You blink and Suguru is off of you and the bed. You’re relieved, until you feel your legs being spread. Suguru’s face reappears between your thighs, hiking your skirt up to your waist. Instead of your face, now Suguru’s gaze is directed to the wet spot on your panties. You want to die.

A shiver wracks your body, legs instinctively closing if not for Suguru’s grip keeping them open. “Suguru,” you say, voice reedy with panic, “You really don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he replies. There’s a glint in his eyes. “Being here, in your old room. It feels like we’re students again, doesn’t it? Like we’re fooling around.” A teasing smile pulls at his lips. “It really turns me on, you know.”

You’re unsure of what to do with this information. You’re sure he and Satoru fooled around plenty in high school. You once walked in on them in the common showers together when you accidentally walked into the mens shower. But this is—

Something else entirely.

“I’ll make you feel good,” he says softly, almost reassuring. “Nobody’s ever been here before, right?”

It’s less a question, more a confirmation. He’s looking at you to answer him. Your face burns. There’s no reason to answer. He knows. They know. You’ve never kissed a man before Satoru. Once, a man had grabbed your hand on the street, but Satoru’s glower chased him off. You’ve never done anything more.

You nod, a wordless answer because you don’t trust yourself to respond.

He trails a finger down your panties. You choke on a shudder, squeezing your eyes shut to afford yourself some peace of mind, but it doesn’t help. He deftly slides your panties down and off your legs, fully exposing you. You can feel him looking. You grow wetter.

“All this from some kisses,” he muses. “Did you like them that much? I’ll remember that.”

You are too pathetically mortified to respond. It wasn’t…

He leans in close, exposing your wet heat to his interest. His voice lowers. “Did you get this wet when Satoru kissed you?”

Your eyes fly open, wide, meeting his amused ones. It doesn’t sound like an accusation but it feels like one. It feels like a competition. Competitive, the way the two of them have always been. But you…don’t want to think about that. You don’t want to think about anything. You wish he’d just—

Suguru drags his tongue against your cunt, and you squeal, legs attempting to lock shut around his head, but the two hands on your thighs easily keeps you spread. He chuckles, and every vibration sends a fresh wave of heat to your wetness. Before you can catch your breath, he pulls you forward to his face.

You feel the heat of his tongue pressing into you, taking his time exploring your folds with steady, broad strokes. You whimper, feeling your stomach tighten, your hands gripping the fabric of your sweater as the sound of your heart floods your ears. You hear yourself saying his name, over and over and over, and you think he might even like it, because he responds enthusiastically, as if to reward you.

Suguru’s lips are bright with your slick. You can feel yourself dripping, your body eagerly responding for him, despite your own reservations. The rise of your hips against his mouth while his tongue works to elicit even more noises from you. And then Suguru’s hand is taking yours, leading it to his head, all without stopping. Your other hand follows suit, fingers curling into his hair as you attempt to drag him closer, caught up in the pressure building in your gut.

Suguru’s thumb catches on the intentionally neglected swollen bundle of nerves, and you blindly sob out, hips jerking upwards, white hot overstimulating pleasure shooting through your veins. The world slows to still. Suguru takes it without pause, tongue lazily circling your cunt through it all.

You can barely breathe, too sensitive, too sore. Suguru is gazing up at you, all ministrations mercifully stopped. Your chest rises and falls, attempting to get a grip on yourself. Your hands have dropped from Suguru’s hair to your side. You should apologize. It must have been uncomfortable. You hadn’t meant to grip him that hard. His hair…

But that’s the least of your worries.

You unsteadily rise, removing your legs from Suguru’s shoulders, so that they hang off the side of the bed instead. You shakily smooth out your skirt. Suguru easily takes over the duty, pulling the skirt back down to your ankles and straightening it. His hand rests on your thighs, the heat of him felt through the fabric of your skirt, as if in reminder of what he just did. You swallow.

“Suguru…”

“Mhm?” His hands move to your hair, smoothing and fixing and petting, and you can’t do anything but let him.

“I…um. I…” The words don’t form. Your brain is still hazy from the residuals of your orgasm. You didn't know orgasms could be so life shattering. In more ways than one. You’ll never be the same again. Things will never be the same again. The thought makes your chest sink. You feel like a child again, lost and alone.

You’re worn and spent and you still have to make your train to Nagoya. Your head begins to throb. Too many thoughts.

“Tell me about your friend,” Suguru urges gently. “What did the two of you do together?”

You figure Suguru isn’t too mad at you if he’s asking about Hideo. That brings you immense relief. Although it's overshadowed by every other conflicting feeling fighting to take reign inside of you, including more guilt. It’s odd. You thought he’d never want to see you again. Instead he chose to get back at Satoru.

You’re still relieved nonetheless, glad that he’s still talking to you, if anything. Such a small thing brings you happiness. You love talking to Suguru. You love his attentiveness, his patience, his (mostly solid) advice. It makes things feel right again, and you respond to the normalcy of it. The pieces fall back into place, anchoring you to the moment.

“We just talked.” You recall the night. “He was…we briefly knew each other as children. Back when I…” your hands curl shut. You shake your head. “We walked in the gardens afterwards. Then…” Then Satoru happened. “Um…Satoru was…rude to him the other day. And since he’s moving to Tokyo…it’d be nice if you could get along with him—”

“Get along, you say…”

You nod, lips curving despite everything. You think Suguru would like him, in fact. Satoru is usually too impatient for others nowadays, short tempered in a way that has people fleeing in the other direction, but you always thought Suguru appreciated straightforward qualities.

“Hideo-kun was it?” Suguru smiles pleasantly. “No, I don’t think I will.”

You stare at him. “...”

“...”

“Oh,” you echo. “That’s…okay.”

You feel deadly embarrassed, face burning. It isn't as if Suguru or even Satoru for that matter are under any obligation to meet the people in your life. They don't have to like them either. You shouldn't have mentioned it in the first place. You think you should excuse yourself now.

"H-how was Sasaki-san? Did the two of you have fun at the party?” You want to know if Satoru likes her too, but you hadn’t gotten a chance to ask at the party.

“It was just a party,” Suguru simply says, thumb rubbing circles into your ankle, almost absentmindedly. "It was boring, really."

You wonder if romance is a topic he doesn't want to discuss with you. Not anymore. Not after...

You’re unsure why you keep on talking. You want to talk to him. You want him to talk to you. You want to be comforted. “Shoko said the bride didn’t want to get married.”

A grimace flits across his features. “I suppose not.”

You straighten, paying attention to his expression. Interesting. “I didn’t realize you knew the bride personally…”

“I don’t,” The words leave his lips smoothly, convincingly. “Anyone could see she wasn’t happy.”

He’s lying to you. Others may not be able to tell, but you can. Suguru lies too well. It’s when his words come easiest, his facial expressions too sincere and free of all hesitation that you’ve caught him. If anything, he lies too well. You know him enough to know that even Suguru struggles with the words sometimes.

You don’t say anything. It’s not your place. There could be a lot of reasons he doesn’t want to tell you but you can’t help but think it’s because you’ve lost your place as his friend and a confidante. You wonder if he’ll ever confide in you again. You wonder if you’ll ever exchange books and trace over the print of his handwriting in the margins. It’s a horrible feeling. You might cry.

You don’t like who you are when you’re alone. The best parts of you have always belonged to others.

You force the panic into a tiny, tiny box inside of you. You smother it all down until you feel okay again. Everything subsides. A little empty, but functional. You’ve always been good at that, if nothing else. You have a mission in Nagoya, and a train to catch.

You stand on unsteady legs. It's suddenly a little harder to breathe. "I should get going," you say evenly. "I'd hate to keep the auxiliary manager waiting!"

You flee the room.

You take three steps out of jujutsu tech and realize you are missing two things. Your phone and your panties.

#geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #m.jjk #ddao

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wavesrollin · 2 months

Text

Ked Photos

A Sonic Unbreakable Bond Fic

Tails goes through Sonic’s phone and is embarrassed to find millions of photos of him.

—————

Skyblue8: Hi

Kit: Hi Tails : )

It was just another lazy day at the Hedgehog/Prower residence. Sonic had just gotten home from a week-long adventure, and Tails, as usual, wouldn't leave his brother's side after being away from him so long.

And that's how the two found themselves scrawled over on either side of the couch together. Sonic flipped the page of his book as Tails stretched out some more, resting his feet in his brother's lap and his head on the arm of the couch.

He yawned as he tapped on his Miles Electric some more, a mischievous grin on his face.

Skyblue8: wyd?

Kit: nothin' u?

Skyblue8: hanging with dork older brother

Skyblue8: don't tell him, but I'm the one who sent Amy flowers in his name

Kit: lol

He ignored his feet moving as Sonic shuffled around underneath him.

Kit: nice

Skyblue8: you wanna sneak out tonight and toilet paper houses?????

Skyblue8: my brother sleeps like a hog. he won't notice

Kit: IDK...

Skyblue8: I'll let you fly the tornado

Kit: :O deal

Kit: Meet you at 10

"You know I can see your messages, right?" Tails' dinner plate wide eyes snapped to Sonic, who had put down his book and was now holding his phone, scrolling down at a familiar chat log.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

A month ago, Sonic had hired some other tech wiz (Tails sure as hell wouldn't have done it) to install parental controls in the Miles Electric after what happened last time. Tails shuddered, remembering how mad Sonic had been over what happened last time. And now his brother could, among other things, see all of his chat logs.

He had meant to make something that could bypass it. He had meant to make some code between him and his friends. Sonic wouldn't think anything of it that way when they communicated their plans. But he hadn't. And now he was in deep shit.

"Uhh," He wracked his brain for an excuse. What good was having an I.Q. Of three hundred if he can't come up with a good excuse at the top of his head. "We were joking?"

Sonic held out his paw, "Come on, ked. Give it." Tails groaned and handed him the Miles Electric.

"What am I supposed to do nowwww?" He whined, huffing and crossing his arms.

"Well," Sonic put a paw to his chin as if thinking. "You could watch TV- Oh wait, you're grounded from that too." Tails stuck his tongue out at him and shuffled his feet in his brother's lap.

"You're such a pain."

"Yeah, I know," Sonic replied nonchalantly, grabbing his book from the coffee table.

"Whatever, Imma take a nap."Tails turned so that his muzzle was in the crook of the couch, blocking out the light from the living room. He felt Sonic gently push his feet down from where they had lifted to his chest.

He felt Sonic gently petting his tail as his mind drifted away into slumber.

—————

Tails woke up to the sprinkling of the shower echoing from the bathroom in the hall. He turned; face pressed against the couch cushion with a groan, disappointed to find the lap his feet had been laying on to be gone, replaced by a warm spot.

He got up and crawled over to the other side of the couch, curling his body around the circle of warmth. Grumbling when he felt cold glass pressed against his side.

Getting up to glare at the perpetrator that interrupted his precious slumber, the familiar sight of Sonic’s deep blue phone greeting him.

The mischievous grin Sonic was always wary of crept over Tails’ muzzle. He turned the phone on, no lock screen, figures. Smiled at the Home Screen of him, Sonic, Amy, and Knuckles hanging out under a palm tree.

He tapped into messages and onto Knuckles’ contact. His eyes scroll through the previous messages, nothing but sending each other coordinates and the occasional message from Sonic checking in on him. Tails rolled his eyes, board then his grin widened when he tapped on the keyboard.

Sonic: Hi Knux

Sonic: I have a confession. I’ve always had a HUGE crush on you.

Sonic: wanna go out sometime?

Some dots appeared as Knuckles started typing, Tails was lucky enough to contact him during his downtime when he would be checking his phone.

Knux: wtf

Knux: have you been possessed?

Sonic: no just really wanna date you <3

Some more dots appeared and then disappeared. He deleted the evidence and blocked Knuckles so Sonic wouldn't figure out what’s happening until it’s too late. Tails chuckled to himself. That was sure to get Rogue knocking down their door later.

Next was Shadow. Tails couldn’t figure out what to text him so he opened up the gallery, expecting to find some sort of embarrassing photo to send him. He's sure the dark hedgehog would appreciate that, might even make him smile for once.

But when he looked through the photos, he found something completely different. A familiar yellow-orange kit with white-tipped tails filled the screen, eyes shut, a blanket draped over him, paws wrapped around the orange fox plush Amy had gotten him for Christmas. The one he only ever slept with when he was sure Sonic was away or in deep sleep to hide from the embarrassment.

Tails gasped at the betrayal. His own brother. Took an embarrassing photo of him while he was unconscious and helpless.

He rolled his eyes and swiped to the next one. This time Tails was scrawled over his desk, head in his arms and tails wrapped around him like a blanket.

Another swipe. This time Tails was in Sonic’s lap, curled up with his muzzle in his brother’s chest.

Another swipe. He’s in bed again with the blanket knocked onto the floor, he’s sleeping with his mouth just barely open, tongue out slightly. Blepping is what it’s called. Something he'd only seen pictures of cats on the internet do. It took all his willpower not to delete this particular photo.

Another swipe. He’s stretched on a checkered picnic blanket on the beach. A beige arm coming out from behind him, two fingers above his head making bunny ears, pink quills barely visible on the edge of the photo. Amy too? The betrayal! The audacity! The outrage!

Huh, Amy was right, he was picking up Sonic's dramatic flair.

He kept swiping right. Almost the entire gallery was just pictures of him sleeping, his fur got browner the further back he went. A few of him awake looking mildly annoyed which he vaguely remembered, more of him blepping, and even fewer of just the two of them or all of his friends together hanging out.

He scrolled until he couldn’t scroll anymore. The last/first picture is a dirty fur-matted kit sleeping in an oversized sleeping bag. It was four years old. God, you’d think Sonic would upgrade his phone after four years.

Just as he was about to set the phone down, the bathroom door slammed open. Sonic came out, shaking the water out of his fur, walking over to the living room whistling.

“At least the ked’s getting some actual rest right now. God knows he needs it the way he overworks himself.” He grumbled as he scrolled over to the couch, eyes widening at the very awake fox who had his phone in his paw.

“Is that my phone?”

“Nooo.”

He put his paw out, “Give it.” There was that authoritative voice again, commanding his poor little brother to his every whim.

Tails grumbled and handed it over, then crossed his arms. “Why is your gallery full of pictures of me sleeping?”

Sonic’s ears perked up alarmed, “Ummmm…”

“Why huh? Is this a blackmail scheme? Because I’ll let you know I have way worse things on you- “

“What? No! I take them because I think it’s cute." Then he got nervous, "Wait what do you have on me- "

“Kinda creepy Sonic.” Tails scolded, ignoring the previous question.

“Don’t tell me what’s creepy Mr. send our mutual friend flowers in my name.”

“Hey, I'm just saying," He teased, "I don’t take photos of you sleeping.”

“Well, that’s different.”

“How?” Oh, he was going to have fun listening to this explanation.

Sonic grumbled something under his breath that Tails barely caught, “What was that?” He turned his ear towards him.

“ ‘Cause you’re my ked.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re my ked, Tails.”

“I’m your brother, not your child.”

“Sure, but I’m also kind of your only parental figure.”

“Am not!”

“Tails, I literally grounded you a few hours ago.” Tails grumbled. Wait, a few hours? How long had he been asleep?

Then Sonic moved his paw to scratch that special spot underneath Tails’ ear making him reflexively move his foot to scratch himself.

“Hey!” He reached over to move Sonic’s paw, who just chuckled. “I’ve known you since you were four. I practically raised you.”

“Yeah, but you were eleven.”

“And if I’d been any older, I’d tell people I was your dad.”

The kit’s eyes softened, “You would?” Someone actually cared enough to want to be his parent? He guessed if that someone would be anyone, I’d be Sonic. Still, it was surprising.

Sonic wrapped his arm around his brother and lifted him up to his chest. “Sure would.” Then he blew raspberries into the kit’s forehead like he used to when the kid was even younger. Tails screeched, giggling, kicking at Sonic until he dropped him back on the couch.

The kit smoothed down his fur and then looked at Sonic, an idea forming in his head. “…Do you want me to help you put these on a cloud?”

“Sure, ked.” He ruffled Tails’ head, ignoring the look the kit gave him since he just fixed his fur.

Then Sonic squinted his eyes and tapped his foot as Tails realized he was thinking about something. “Wait a second…did you do anything else with my phone?”

“Noooo.” Tails said innocently, clutching his paws behind his back with his fingers crossed. His older brother sighed, giving up. “Guess I’ll find out later.”

“Mhhmm.” He looked away, ears folding back guilty as thought about how mad Knuckles and Rogue were going to be. How confused Sonic was going to be. His brother seemed to notice as he crossed his arms and rolled his eyes.

“I am so putting a Lock Screen on my phone.”

“We both know I’d hack that in less than a minute.”

“True, true.” Sonic laced down on the couch, dropping his back over Tails as the kit scrambled to get out from underneath him. “Hey!”

Tails huffed, “Can I have my Miles Electric now?”

“Fine. But no chatting, especially with Kit.” Tails rolled his eyes, Sonic never liked the fennec for some weird reason. Maybe because he'd tried to kill them? But then again, a lot of their friends have tried in the past.

“Deal.” He said, fully intending to anyway. Then the kit flew up to the high shelf where he knew Sonic had hidden everything he had taken away from his brother. He grabbed his device and sat himself back on the couch. Wedging himself between the cushions and Sonic, laying halfway on his brother’s chest. His heartbeat resting against his right ear.

He felt his brother wrap an arm around him before the room was full of loud sleeping noises. Tails could swear Sonic did it on purpose, only snoring at home just to annoy him.

He scrolled through his device and tapped onto Fall Guys, fully intending to play it until he drifted off to sleep as he had been doing lately when a thought popped into his head. He’d installed a camera on the Miles Electric months ago thinking he might need it on a mission, he never had but this was the perfect chance to put it to use.

He slowly sat up and pointed it at his sleeping older brother. Turning off the flash before snapping a photo. It was only fair after all.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic fanfic #sonic fanfiction #miles tails prower #tails the fox #sonic and tails #unbreakable bond #wholesome sonic and tails Wednesday #wholesome Wednesday #dynamic duo #wsatw #tails is being a little shit in this #it is a phase #a phase sonic hates

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peachesofteal · 1 year

Note

I know you said later this week for heartbeat buuuuuuut a chance you could please post a sneak peek?

Since you asked so nicely. It's probably going to be next week at this point. This is mostly unedited and mostly just filth. It’s a flashback.

Simon Riley/female reader - from: Sassy Series, after Heartbeat / Chapter 2 Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI. E for explicit, Jealousy, men saying gross things about you, brief mention of violence, thigh riding and Simon talks you through it, explicit sex, Simon having deep feelings while he's buried in you.

“I mean, did you get a good look at her?”

“Shit. I’d bury my face in that ass. EOD is air force, right? Think she’s got a landing strip?”

“Dunno but I’d be coming in for a landing all the time if she was on my squad.” The table of privates laugh to each other, and Simon’s fingers curl around the bottom of the beer bottle in front of him. He briefly considers, for a moment, if Price would dismiss him if he broke it over one of their heads and then used the shards to slit the rest of their throats. Bleed ‘em out right there on the table.

He shifts on the stool. Johnny gives him a skeptical look. One of them, says something else. Sounds a little like ‘tight’ and ‘pussy’ strung together. Another one snickers.

He’s on his feet behind them before anyone can blink. The low drone of rage pressurizes inside his skull.

“Want to share what’s so funny, private?” The table falls silent immediately, all of them staring up at him, dumbfounded.

“N-nothing’s funny, sir.”

“Ya sure about that?” Johnny chimes in before Simon can say anything.

“The bomb tech, we were just… appreciating her. Saying how nice it must be nice, having something to look at.” Simon can feel the heat of Johnny’s gaze on the nape of his neck.

“The bomb tech outranks you, private. You will address her as Sergeant.”

“Y- yes, sir.”

When he gets back to the base and little house the 141 is crammed into, you’re already asleep in your room. Sprawled across the shitty thin mattress, your shirt rucked up around your stomach, little boyshorts riding the curve of your hips. The scar from Belize is still shiny across your ribs, peachy and puckered. The sight of you safe and sleeping soothes the raw buzzing of anger in the back of his head. His girl. His.

He’s already got his hands all over you by the time he gets his boots off, and you shift a little when he presses his face into the top of your ass.

“Simon?” you mumble. “Y’okay?” Simon, Simon, Simon. It’s always Simon with you now. You’re constantly stripping him bare with it, and he doesn’t even know your name.

He teases a hand across your skin, over the scar and up under the peak of your breast to your nipple, where he rolls the already hardening bud between his fingers. You shudder with a moan, shoulders twisting to turn yourself on your back, but he stops you. His teeth find the swell of your ass, and he sinks them deep. You squeak.

“Can you hold still?” He says, your body answering for you with a shiver. The bite woke you sharply, and you watch him out of the corner of your eye.

He pulls the underwear down your legs until they disappear, and then sinks his fingers into your cheeks. The glisten of your cunt shimmers, already wet, already waiting for him.

“Scoot back, sweet girl. Up on your knees.” You do as he says, shimmying down until you’re pressing against his thigh, clit ghosting against the fabric of his jeans, just barely. Your hips are shifting, slowly, and he knows you’re trying to get just a little bit more friction. He leans over you, gloved hand in your hair. “Now be good for me and rub your desperate little clit on my leg until you come.” You shake your head no and he rears back, pulling off his shirt and gloves, leaving the mask and his jeans the only thing on his body. He slaps you across your ass, just hard enough to watch the skin pink under his hand, and you jolt with a moan, cunt pushing back against his leg. “Do you want me to give you my cock, Sass?” you nod frantically. “Then ride my thigh until you’re coming on it.” The curve of a smile, a smirk, pushes at your cheek, and you start to move your hips, slowly at first, and then fevered, chasing your high while he watches. “That’s my girl, just like that.”

You start to jerk erratically, your face screwing up into the little pout and he knows you’re close. “You going to come Sass?” You mewl pathetically, mouth making desperate sounds and he watches you rub yourself all over him. “Sweet girl. That’s it, just a little more. There you go.” Your gasps reach a fever pitch, and he groans. “Ride it out, good girl. Come all over me.” His jeans are smeared with you, but he praises you, telling you how good you were, how much he likes that you made a mess on him. Once you come down from it, he strips and presses himself along your back, rucking the balaclava up to his nose to pull the skin beneath your ear between his teeth. He wants to mark you, hard. Leave an impression of himself on your body, brand you down to your bones. Tomorrow, when those fuckwit privates line up for brief, he wants them to know.

He sinks into you as deep as he can, little noises coming from your mouth as he splits you open on his cock, your cunt so tight it feels like it’s choking him.

“Si-Simon.” It’s his name, again. You’re flaying him alive with it. When you say it, it feels like he’s not wearing the mask, it feels like he is Simon, and not Ghost. He’s becoming addicted to it, consumed by it. It makes his head foggy, makes him do things that he’s never done, like approach a table of infantry and scare them out of running their mouths, or mark you like you belong to him. You cloud his judgement. You make him want things, things he doesn’t deserve, things he could never have. You make him soft, and desperate, and when you turn and look over your shoulder as he slams himself to the hilt, your gaze burns into him like you’re seeing him. Like you know.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #sassy series #peaches writes #simon riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #cod mw22 fanfiction #cod fanfic #peaches asks

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player1064 · 1 month

Note

accidentally outing themselves on live tv? dunno how or if anyone else at sky knows but it’s something they’d do providing some images from the carraville discord that we were talking about yesterday

god they WOULD end up accidentally outing themselves bc they already can't keep their hands to themselves imagine how much worse they would be.......... I shudder to think............

---

“I’m here pitchside with Gary Neville –“

“—Carragher were meant to be joinin’ us, but he’s late getting up from London.”

“Yes, quite. I’m sure he’ll be arriving soon. In the meantime – Gary, what are your thoughts on United’s starting line-up tonight?”

Gary is nodding along to something Kelly is saying when his attention suddenly shifts to something off camera. He rolls his eyes as Jamie comes crashing in, bag slid halfway down his shoulders, seemingly unaware of the producer holding his earpiece who’s trying to get his attention.

“Sorry, love,” he says as he hurries up to Gary, immediately stepping into his personal space. He ducks his head down to press their lips together in a quick greeting before he continues, “there was a crash on the M6 or summat, a whole section of the road was closed off. Bloody nightmare, I’m tellin’ ya.”

As he talks, he doesn’t seem to notice Gary’s wide eyed stare, the blush rising in his cheeks, or Kelly clamping a hand to her mouth while her shoulders shake in laughter.

Gary tries his best to compose himself and turns to the camera with an expression caught between terror and amusement, and he says “well, now that Jamie’s very kindly provided us all with a traffic update I think it’s time for us to hear from our colleagues in the studio.” When the light of the camera turns off, he reaches out to give Jamie a slap round the back of the head and hisses “live television, James, how many years’ve you been doin’ this again?”

“Wha?” Jamie looks over, already surrounded by a small hoard of tech people and a make-up artists trying to get him camera ready as quickly as they can.

“Oh my God,” Gary mutters, pinching his brow. “Jamie, you dolt, you just kissed me in front of our live audience of what – a million people?”

“I never,” Jamie says with an offended glare, far too confident for someone who definitely fucking did.

“Oh my God,” Gary repeats. “You don’t believe me? Check your fucking phone.”

“You don’t even get Sky Sports in America, Philip, how have you already seen it?”

“Tray sent it to me, it’s all over Twitter.”

“Oh, well that’s just great then in’t it?” Gary huffs. At Jamie’s questioning look, he repeats “it’s all over Twitter, apparently.”

For a moment Jamie looks almost proud that he’s a trending topic, but he shuts his expression down when he sees Gary’s glare and turns back to his own phone call (“no, Ma, I –”)

“I just don’t understand why you didn’t tell me, Gaz,” Philip whines down the phone. “I tell you everythin’”

“An’ I keep askin’ you not to tell me everythin’! Isn’t a man entitled to a little privacy?”

Group: STF Gang NO PARENTS > Jill: who had money on it being Jamie cos I’m pretty sure I’d said Gary > Roy: I think we all said Gary > Ian: statistically it was most likely to be Gary. > Ian: but Roy said it’d be while they’re covering a match so I think he wins it > Jill: :(((

(24 new messages)

Stevie G: > you’re trending on twitter what have you done now > NEVIlLE??? Carra have some self respect

J Redknapp: > you melt 😂 > everyone in the studio is running around panicking rn

MO: > did everyone know except me?? > you’re shite at texting I didn’t even know you had a boyfriend > I didn’t even know you liked men? > Gaz is nice though we should all go for drinks sometime

(57 new messages)

Scholesy: > twat why didnt u tell me > u was moaning about him just last week

Philip MU mob: > you hung up before I could say but proud of you Gaz!

Roy Keane MU mob: > does this mean we’re allowed to tease you two about it on camera now > here if you need anything > [image: a blurry, blank-faced selfie with a thumbs up]

BIG MEEKS: > you could do better 🙄😉

#made myself laugh writing roys texts tbh. im so obsessed with the fact that he just sends people selfies as a way to end the conversation #carraville #drabbles #also yes micah saved his own number into garys phone in this scenario. clearly.

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dangraccoon · 2 months

Text

Resourceful

Tech x M!Reader

NSFW

Warnings: sexual tension, explicit sexual content, cock rings, light dom/sub like very lightly implied, anal fingering, anal sex, inappropriate use of a mechanic creeper, multiple orgasms, anal creampie

Inspired by and Written for @clownbloody based on this very spicy masterpiece and outcry for more male reader fics told you I would ;)

“I am not sure that your idea is a good one,” Tech noted, still not looking up at you.

You’d been trying to distract him from the repairs he’d been working on for the last hour, having to repair a part to go back into the malfunctioning console.

“Why not?” you asked, pushing yourself up to sit on his workbench. “The rest of the squad is going to be out for at least an hour, right?”

“Yes, they will be. However-”

You took his chin in your hand. “And it’s been a while since we had some time alone.”

“It has been two weeks-”

“Then what’s stopping you?” you moved your face closer to his, stopping mere millimeters from his.

He sighed, his breath tickling your lips. “I… Well, I do not want to neglect you. I want you to have my full attention any time we are… intimate.”

You chuckled a little, releasing your hold on his chin. “That’s sweet, but the repair needs to be done before we can get back into hyperspace.”

“That is accurate,” he agreed, his attention turning back to his work.

“Don’t you think this could be a good way to multitask? You’re always talking about how you want to be more productive.”

His hands froze. You smirked at the small victory.

“And you can have two things you love at the same time.”

He glanced up for only a moment, eyeing you suspiciously. “Those being…”

“Having the repairs finished and having your ass railed by your very sexy and very needy boyfriend.”

His breath caught in a tiny gasp as his grip on his spanner nearly faltered.

“I mean really, you could think of it as an experiment.”

He set the tools down, finally returning his attention to you.

“What is it that you would be testing?”

“Oh, that would be you, darling,” you laughed, sliding off the table to stand behind him. You placed your hands on his shoulders before slowly pushing them down his chest, the shudder he fought encouraging you. Your hands slipped past his stomach to his thighs and his breath hitched. “I think it could be quite interesting to see just how long I need to fuck you to make that brilliant mind of yours go completely cock dumb.”

His head fell back against your chest as he sighed. Your fingers ghosted over his groin, pulling a whimper so soft that you felt like you might melt then and there.

“So what do you think, my love?” you cooed in his ear. “Think I can shut down all that clever thinking?”

He took a moment to respond, obviously enjoying the way your hands roved over his body. “Y-yes, I believe such a… compelling theory should prove interesting to test.”

You padded off to your footlocker to grab a few tools you would need, allowing him the space and minimal distraction to finish repairing the part before he returned to the console.

He set the part on the ground and started to lower himself onto his rolling cart.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” you teased, chuckling at the confused look you received. “I can’t very well fuck you with your blacks on, can I?”

His cheeks flushed the prettiest pink as he pushed the bottom half of his underarmor down.

You hummed, taking in the delicious sight of his bare legs. As he stood back up, you noticed the small discolored spots around his hip bones and the insides of his thighs. You dick twitched in your pants as you realized that those were left from your last adventure.

He watched the way you licked your lips, swallowing hard as his length continued to harden with just the thought of what you were planning.

“Go ahead and lay down, love,” you smirked, pushing your own pants down, as he laid on the cart, pulling himself under the console to begin installing the repaired part.

You took out the items you’d retrieved before, two cock rings and a bottle of lube. You first put one cock ring on yourself, suppressing a moan as you situated it around you.

You knelt down in front of Tech, grabbing his legs by the ankles. You heard his breath hitch as you lifted them up and apart so his ass would be on full display for you, humming satisfactorily.

Releasing his ankles, you slapped his bare thigh, pulling a small whimper from him.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I can smack you around as much as you want later,” you breathed as your fingers trailed over to ghost across his balls.

“Please, cyare,” he whispered. “Teasing was not in the itinerary.”

“You’re right,” you agreed, wrapping your hand around his now fully hard cock. You pulled the cock ring onto him, his whimpers and moans sounding like a symphony in your ears. “Ready, love?”

He eagerly nodded, despite not looking away from his work.

You lubed up two of your fingers and swirled it around his ass, pushing in suddenly.

He gasped and let out a low moan as you started to work your fingers in and out of him. Once you were sure he was ready for your length, you applied more lube to your own cock.

Kneeling in front of him, you lined yourself up and shifted your hips forward to slide into his waiting ass.

You both moaned as he took you all the way to the base and you heard the sharp sound of metal meeting metal as a tool hit the floor.

You wrapped your hand around his cock, lazily pumping at it, watching his face flush even darker.

“Cyare,” he moaned.

You smiled. “Yes, dear?”

“Please move.”

You tried to shift your hips but found the movement awkward. He was too close to the ground.

You looked up at his face, amused at how he was clearly trying to concentrate on the repair.

A grin split across your face as an idea entered your lust-riddled brain.

You released your hold on his dick to grab his hips. Shifting your hips backward to slide out of him, you got comfortable.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, glancing down at you for just a moment.

“You tell me,” you hummed.

You yanked him by his hips, rolling the cart towards you to impale him on your cock.

“Fuck!” he shouted, nearly losing hold of the wire he’d been reconnecting.

You pushed him away again, before quickly pulling him back, your eyebrow quirked up, watching to see any objections.

Not seeing any signs of dissent you quickened the pace, pushing and pulling the cart, slamming his ass against your thighs.

He kept his attempt to work at a relatively steady pace. That is, until you shifted your hips just a bit and suddenly the tip of your cock was pressing against that soft spot.

He cried out your name, his hands dropping to grip the underside of the console. A couple more thrusts and he was moaning between the heavy panting dripping from his lips. You saw the drops of precum beading at the head of his member and picked up the pace, wrapping your hand around him.

“Fuck! Fuck, cyare- oh, fuck I’m going to-”

He fell apart with a shout, his hands flying to the cart. You fucked him through it, his cum spilling out over his stomach.

Despite the delay the cock ring was providing, you knew the way his orgasm made his already tight hole squeeze around you would make you cum fast but at this point you didn’t care.

His moans and cries were still ringing in your ears as you slowed your pace, pulling the cart out more.

You repositioned, never fully pulling out of his ass, and pushed his legs up towards his chest. Then, you started anew.

You pistoned your hips into him, sheathing and unsheathing yourself in his heat. His moans were nearly constant now and you felt his muscles contract beneath you.

Tech attempted to form words, but they all came out as moans, but you soon realized what he had been trying to say; he was cumming again, the tip of his cock leaking cum.

The gasping breaths he took between moans sent you over the edge and you plowed into him, working yourself through your own climax.

When the room stopped spinning, you pulled your cock slowly out of him, admiring the way your cum leaked down his ass.

You took a moment to catch your breath before smiling down at him. “How’d the repair go?”

“Actually,” he managed between pants. “I finished it… just before I came. The- the first time, that is. I must say… that was- it was quite resourceful.”

You shook your head, laughing in disbelief. “Come on, genius,” you smiled, holding your hand out to pull him up. “Let’s go get cleaned up.”

Thanks for reading! - River

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ladykailitha · 11 months

Text

All My Roads Lead Back to You Part 12

Hello! Sorry this is late, but I had to take this week super slow because I went and sprained my middle and ring fingers on my left hand tripping and falling into a wall. The hand is mostly better, but it still twinges a bit.

Edie is going through some things, Eddie gets lost, and Steve learns where Harri gets his name.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

***

Steve got home and found Edie at the counter munching away at cereal.

“You do know cereal is breakfast food, yes?” he asked as he went to the fridge to pull out the stuff he’d need to make dinner.

“Cereal is a state of mind, Dad,” Edie said, grinning around a mouth full of milk and Frosted Flakes.

“You’re going to spoil your dinner,” Steve said with a glare.

Edie cocked one eyebrow at him and he sighed. “Yeah, all right. So how was school?”

“Algebra is still the bane of human existence,” she murmured. “I just don’t understand it. I can do the geography portion of the syllabus just fine. But when it comes to algebra, I just...” and then blew a raspberry.

Steve grimaced. “I’m sorry, honey. I’ve explained it, Uncle Dusty explained it a different way, and Aunt Robin an even more different way than that and if you’re not getting, I don’t know what to do.”

Edie sighed. “I talked to Mr Olsen and he’s just going to have me take geometry next year instead of forcing me through another year of hell.”

“Are you going to get enough math credits to graduate if you do that?” Steve asked.

Edie sighed. “Probably not, so summer school it is. Yay!” she said waving her hands sarcastically.

“We’ll get you through this,” he promised.

“I know,” she murmured. She looked over at the counter where Steve had put aside enough food for an army. “You skip lunch again?”

He rolled his eyes. “No. Half of this coming with me to the office because Callen, one of the techs’ mom is going through chemo and he forgets to bring lunch.”

Edie looked at the food on the counter and back up at him. “It’s not for you?”

Steve sighed. “No. You’re not going to get hung up on this again are you?”

She shook her head. “I just worry about you, you know.”

He sighed again. “I know you do, but you don’t have to worry about this. You remember what Dr Rushing said, right?”

Edie heaved out a sigh of her own. “I know. It was a one-time thing. It’s never happened before and it hasn’t happened since.”

“Good,” Steve said firmly. “Now help me chop these vegetables.”

She drank down her milk and put her bowl in the sink. She got out a knife and the chopping board and got to work.

“Anything exciting happen at work today?” she asked.

Steve’s spine stiffened and went completely still. “About that, honey. Has your mom tried to get into contact with you recently?”

Edie frowned. “I guess about a month ago. She wanted me to be a bridesmaid at her wedding. But I thought she was trying to trap me again, so I just ignored it, why?”

Steve let out a shuddering breath and told her about his afternoon. “So I’m calling the school and letting them know that she is in town and isn’t allowed anywhere near you, okay?”

“God, I swear that woman is like a bad penny,” Edie muttered. “She just keeps coming back.”

Steve nodded. “Violating the order is bad, and she will get in trouble for it. But she hasn’t tried to physically harm either of us, so I’m not sure what the police can even do.”

Edie nodded back. “I wish she would just go away. Because apparently not even finding another man to scam is enough to get her to forget about us.”

“Nothing warps the mind quite like greed,” Steve agreed. “I’ll talk to a lawyer about what more we can do about her, just to set both of our minds at ease. There must be something more we can do.”

Eddie was lost. He was sure Dustin told him to take the second elevator to sixth floor to meet up for lunch. But now he was starting wonder if Dustin had said the sixth elevator to the fourth floor.

Fuck.

And then he saw his savior in the form of a single glass name plate. He wrenched open the door and went up to the desk.

“Hey, so I was wondering if–” he began.

The woman at the desk cut him off by tapping her sign. Eddie’s eyes followed her finger and went, “Oh.”

He started signing instead. “My sincerest apologies, fair Vanessa! I should have been paying better attention. I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of Dustin Henderson’s office. I am meant to be having lunch with him, but I have sadly lost my way!”

Vanessa giggled and pressed a button on her desk. She signed back. “I could, but I’m pretty sure he’d take you if you wanted.”

Eddie frowned and signed back. “Who?”

She pointed behind him and he turned. There leaning against his now open door, was Steve. He had his arms crossed and was smiling fondly.

Eddie turned back to her and blushed. Vanessa raised an eyebrow.

“This idiot is on the wrong floor,” she signed to Steve. “Can you take him to Dustin? Tell him to stop letting his experiments run around the building unsupervised.”

Steve laughed. “Come on, Eddie. I’ll get you to where you need to go.”

Eddie signed “Asshole” to her before turning around and following Steve. Her laugh echoed down the hall.

“You have a mean receptionist,” he told Steve as the walked down the hall.

Steve grinned. “I know, isn’t she great? I love her.”

Eddie gulped and shoved his hands in his back pocket. “Didn’t know you were the kind to date the secretary, Harrington.”

Steve laughed. “If I tried that, her husband Nick would make sure my next hearing aid exploded.”

The knot that had formed in Eddie’s chest loosened. “I didn’t see a ring when we were signing, so I wondered.”

Steve nodded. “That’s fair. But he can’t wear one doing his work, so she told him that she wasn’t going to wear one either.”

“Is he deaf, too?” Eddie asked. He knew from Dustin that the company liked to hire hard of hearing and deaf individuals.

Steve shook his head. “One of my best interpreters, though. They came as a packaged deal. I can’t live without Vanessa and Dustin trusts Nick implicitly, I do too.”

Eddie smiled. “It seems like you two have made quite the company here.”

“It absolutely was a team effort,” Steve replied. “Dustin could MacGuiver that shit from his mom’s basement, but he couldn’t get people to listen to him about the technologies.”

“Whereas you could smooth talk a snake out of its skin?” he said, ducking his head and looking up at Steve slyly.

Steve laughed. “Something like that. So it worked to both of our strengths.”

He stopped at a door and then opened it. “Hey, Dusty! Look what I found wondering the halls like a lost puppy.”

Dustin’s head shot up. “There you are! Why didn’t you just message me on your phone, dumbass?”

Eddie flushed in embarrassment. “I thought I could figure it out. But this place is huge.”

Steve laughed. “Well Bo-peep, now that I’ve found your sheep, I’ve got to get back to work.” He jerked his thumb behind him. “Also Vanessa says to keep a tighter leash on your experiments.” He winked at Eddie who protested loudly.

“Hey,” Dustin said, glancing at Eddie quickly, “if you wanted you could come with us to lunch.”

Steve paused at the door and looked to Eddie. “If you don’t mind...”

Eddie shook his head. “You are more than welcome, Stevie.”

Steve felt that familiar swoop in his stomach at the old nickname. “Then sure. Where were you guys thinking of going?”

“Sushi!” Dustin said proudly.

Steve rolled his eyes. “I’ll pass thanks.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “Not a fan of raw fish, sweetheart?”

Steve’s stomach swooped again and he really needed Eddie to stop with the nicknames and endearments otherwise Steve wasn’t going to have much of a stomach left after a single lunch the way his stomach kept hollowing out.

Steve shrugged. “I’ve tried all kinds, including the cooked kind and it’s just not my thing. You two have fun though.”

Eddie may have panicked a bit because he blurted. “We could change the restaurant.”

Steve smiled sweetly. “I wouldn’t want to ruin your fun. I’ll just pick something more my flavor on Monday.” He waved goodbye and they waved back.

As the door was closing Steve could hear Dustin ask Eddie, “What happens on Monday?”

Steve was in his office when there was a knock on his door. He had taken out his contacts and pulled out his glasses, the beginning of a migraine floating just beyond the horizon.

He had been chugging water and had long since downed pain killers to stave it off. But he could still feel the pressure building behind his eyes.

When the knock came he looked up to see Eddie standing at the door with a take away box and smile.

“I come bearing gifts of the apology variety,” he said holding up the bag.

Steve’s shoulders sagged. “You didn’t have to do that. I would have grabbed a candy bar or something later.”

Eddie grinned. “It was Dustin’s idea, I am merely the messenger.”

“Why is everyone fussing about my eating?” Steve sighed.

“He said you tend to overwork and forget to eat.” Eddie raised an eyebrow.

Steve shoulders slumped. “He’s right. Sorry. It’s just that Edie’s been going on about my eating habits lately and it’s set me on edge.”

Eddie walked into the room and set his prize down on the table, sliding it over to him. “They got a reason to worry?”

Steve pulled the styrofoam box out of the bag and hummed happily when the scent of sesame chicken hit his nose. He pulled out the chop sticks and dug in, suddenly ravenous.

After a moment or two of stuffing his face, he shook his head. “Not really. Which is why it’s weird, it’s come out of nowhere.”

“You been eating less lately?” Eddie asked, leaning forward on the desk, having pulled up a chair up close.

Steve cocked his head as he thought about it. “I mean not really. Like yeah, sometimes I’ll work through lunch, but I always make sure to grab something later. It’s not disordered eating or whatever they’re calling it these days.”

Eddie nodded. “Anything that’s happened recently that maybe put her on edge and had her latch on to your eating habits?”

Steve scoffed around a bite of chicken. “You mean other than this really great guy I used to be friends with suddenly coming back into my life via his seventeen year old rockstar in the making?”

Eddie grinned. “Other than that, yeah.”

Again Steve gave his question the weight it deserved before shaking his head. “Nothing I can think of.”

Eddie threw himself back against the chair with a heavy sigh. “You got me then man. I don’t know.”

Steve smiled. “At least you tried.”

“Speaking of my rockstar in training, how’s your rockstar in training?” Eddie asked.

“Other than the fixating on my eating?” Steve asked. “She’s fine. Her mom tried to fuck with us again. Sent her packing via cops and lawyers. Hopefully she’ll stay away this time.”

Eddie winced. “Look, I love the name Edie. It’s beautiful, but who the hell names their daughter Edith anymore?”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “I know, right? I fought hard for Lilian. Or even just Lily. But no...it had to be Edith. I think it was a family name or some such bullshit.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “God, I think that honestly makes it worse.”

“Hence Edie,” Steve agreed. “So how did you and your husband come up with Harri. Edie said it’s spelled uniquely. With an ‘I’ instead of a ‘Y’?”

Eddie huffed and rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Steve tilted his head to the side. “I think Dusty or Nancy said it was after some prince or something.”

Eddie shook his head and ran his tongue over his teeth. “Yeah no. That’s official story. Prince Harry was born to the Prince and Princess of Wales two full years before Harri was even conceived. And when people started guessing that with Jay being English, we just didn’t bother to correct them.”

He grabbed the plaque that had Steve’s name on it and turned it around, covering the last five letters of his last name. It now read STEVEN HARRI.

It took Steve a moment before his eyes went wide. “And Jay was okay with that?”

Eddie shrugged. “It wasn’t Steven or Stephen with a ‘PH’. And I didn’t know your middle name.”

“Why?”

“Why what?” Eddie asked. “Why is my son named after a guy who’s name I’ve never spoken aloud in twenty years?”

Steve pursed his lips together and then licked them. “Yeah, man. That.”

“Jay wanted to name him after the man that save my life,” Eddie said softly. “But I was still mad at you about missing Brian’s funeral. Which I now know was because you thought Edie was being born, even if she waited a whole other week to finally make it.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I couldn’t make something up. Not with it in newspapers who the Hawkins hero was. So we used Harri.”

Steve finished his food and threw it away. He wiped off his hands. “Anyone ever guess the real meaning behind the name?”

Eddie shook his head. “Maybe Jeff. But no, everyone else thinks we were British snobs.”

“Well, I’m honored,” Steve said. “Not just because you think I’m a hero, but because Harri’s a good kid. I’m guessing he doesn’t know.”

Eddie shook his head. “I’ve got a letter from Jay that he’s going to get on his twenty-first birthday that will explain it. The surrogacy, his birth, his name. All of it. I wanted to tell Harri sooner, but Jay made me promise.”

Steve nodded. “He’ll probably still be angry. But at least a twenty-one, hopefully he’ll be be mature enough to understand why.”

Eddie slapped the desk with his palm. “That’s the hope.” He looked at his watch. “I’ve got to go. Harri’s got a dentist appointment. See you on Monday?”

Steve grinned. “Yeah. See you on Monday.”

***

Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Epilogue

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#My writing #stranger things #steddie #reconnecting years later AU #ladykailtiha writes

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