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neteyamsilly · 1 year

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i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 2

summary ;; Your burning determination to prove your father wrong and Jake's wish to teach you a lesson both end up in a pyrrhic victory. PART 1 | PART 3 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; im speechlessly overwhelmed at the sheer amount of love you guys showed me these past couple of days. like. literally never had something like this happen to me before. i got too excited to finish this chapter to give back to yall, there was an attempt to proofread but... i hope it's not too bad, please enjoy! as always, if you see any mistakes, im sorry!

The path further into the floating mountains was all the worse to navigate thanks to the lack of light, the only useful guides you had were the faintly flickering bioluminescent lights from the forest deep below. The branches twisting around each other to create a naturally built bridge from mountain to mountain benefited from this, contrasting as a clear obscured line to your eyes against the glow underneath.

The easiest part of your journey, in hindsight, was just skipping along this line.

You weren’t exactly happy about this.

The more you left behind, the more you were freaked out that Neteyam or anyone else was onto your intentions already and hot on your trail right this moment. Imagining father making a beeline to you in the air with Bob, a cruel, merciless whistling arrow, made you all jittery and almost puking kind of nervous, pulling at the depths of your stomach.

Your rationality told you that it was a half an hour walk to your spot from the tent, and Neteyam would be hurrying the more he thought he wasn’t able to catch up with you along the way, so you had around twenty minutes until the whole family was panicking and raising the clan to look for you.

Tuk had gone missing once thanks to some hide and seek game with Lo’ak (she’d hidden so well and was waiting for her siblings to find her already, blindly sticking to the game for an entire day, not out of stubbornness but childish purity), and this was exactly what had gone down —

the resentful part of you questioned if father thinks of you highly enough to resort to that.

If something happened to you, he would maybe urge your brothers to search for you for a while, and drop it then — leaving you to your own devices happily.

Maybe.

Were you even worth it in his eyes for a search party? You wondered if he cared enough that you disappeared.

But that was a stupid, childish thought you knew you fantasized about a lot — perhaps this was why he’d called you immature. This was no mindset for a strong, independent, confident hunter. The thought father was right, even a miniscule bit was bitter on your tongue, worse than what he called black coffee.

Disappearing so you’d find out just how much he cared was unfair to mom, for one.

She had lost so much in such a short amount of time, the stories she sang poignantly about were hard to listen to without tearing up. Her home. The trees of voices, all the lost ancestors. Her father. Uncle Tsu’tey. Her first ikran, Seze. Loss upon loss you think there’d be nothing left to give anymore, but sky people’s fire was always hungry, always willing to waste more to grow bigger.

You wouldn’t forgive yourself for making her cry in your pursuit to punish father. Never.

You weren’t a child.

Just wanted to be one, sometimes.

Wanted father to babytalk you, pet your head longer than a passing touch as he walked away hurriedly to attend to other matters, make beads for your braids the way he always did from pretty stones he found on ponds, carve you little trinkets when you graciously had to give up your toys to Lo’ak and Kiri’s greed.

Your neck piece was all them in fact, he’d see it if he ever paid enough attention, or perhaps it was all insignificant to him, five kids meant countless belongings for each individual child had been passed down from his hands, it would be a miracle for father to recognize you still wore his clumsy creations. But again, it had been too long since he’d even looked at you affectionately, he wouldn’t See.

He’d transferred those habits entirely to Neteyam at one point in time.

Your older brother would always ruffle Lo’ak’s hair and tease him the way father used to, comfort him in his own playful way, and even though the younger looked discontent at being babied, you knew he was happy Neteyam was quite literally his shadow to look after him through tough times — including shielding from father’s line of fire. In return, he was suffering from being a foil to the older son, you understood the struggle because you were going through the same comparison, you just weren’t obsessed with catching and living up to father as much as Lo’ak did.

Win some, lose some, I guess.

Plus, Neteyam was trembling under the massive planet-weight pressure, he had to set the standard, he had to live up to the older brother title. He was becoming more of a father figure to Tuk as days passed and the Olo’eyktan became more transparent from his family’s life as a dad to five.

Besides, Lo’ak made trouble enough for two people to go around that you felt bad for your big brother, Kiri was thankfully more mellow (despite frequently hanging out together with him and Spider) compared to him that Neteyam could breathe, not having to divide his attention.

You were in awe of her about how disconnected she was from all the changing dynamics. She had her own problems you could never understand, more spiritual than your grandmother, and ever the ethereal soul who you thought would disappear into Eywa if flesh wasn’t holding her down to Eywa’eveng.

You were the teeniest, tiniest bit jealous of her (and Tuk) holding the softer sides of father, the boys thought he was deliberately softer because they were girls — but you were also a girl, so why weren’t you allowed in?

Well, thanks to that, you’d gotten closer with Neteyam and known him better after the whole clan had settled on High Camp, so it wasn’t all that bad. You could badmouth father all day long sitting on some rock and make him laugh abashedly, guilty that he was smiling along with the trashing of the father’s name he respected so much — it was therapy, as Norm had taught humans frequently sought back on earth. It got you trying some things with Neteyam, becoming more of a companion and ranting buddy for him who he could be honest and open with, so that he didn’t have to worry about taking up a larger role in your life to fill father’s missing presence. You were concerned about him more than he could be concerned about you.

That got you contemplating if father had noticed how comfortable his two oldest children were with each other that it was always Neteyam who he sent after you. A girl could dream, no? For one moment, it wasn’t because it was Neteyam’s responsibility, but because father was paying attention to how his kids got along.

The image of him pushed you to be frantically fast to reach your destination as the fear returned with might. If he caught you right now when you had no ikran to prove him wrong, the punishment he was sure to give would be way more humiliating, you at least wanted something in your name to taunt him with if you were going down anyways.

A smile crept up your face at imagining him discombobulated and speechless, unable to pick out one thing that you did wrong.

The carelessness that came with your speed combined with how dark it was to see where to clutch and put your feet on caused you to slip up countless times when climbing, the sharp rocks scraping the insides of your palms and insides of your forearms, lifting your skin up. What you cared about more than the pain was that the blood was now tracking material for your family to sniff you out — you couldn’t exactly wipe the rocks clean, so you carried on with a hammering heart, more afraid of father ruining your perfect moment than whatever ikran that would soon be going straight for your throat.

At least you were able to wash the blood off your hands in the waterfall.

Downside? You couldn’t see shit. With your bare back flushed straight to the wall of rock and your feet feeling out the thin edge, the shrill cry of ikrans and the roaring of water was about to overwhelm your senses too much to pay attention —

and you slipped.

The shriek that ripped out of you at the sensation of falling and the drop of your stomach alone almost made you pass out, and for a split second it was a good thing that you wouldn’t feel the moment you died, but your body, once again, was one step ahead of you, it twisted in the air the last second and your hands gripped the ledge.

The wet rock and your blood made all that your life was hanging on slippery as you dangled into the abyss, swaying with the strong winds at this height.

You didn’t know if it was the adrenaline or the nervousness, but something made you laugh out loud, and the bubbling laughter continued until you were able to pull yourself up safely at the ikran rookery, finally.

Looking around like a fish out of water, how you hadn’t cracked your skull open shooting down to the forest below was a total miracle.

You’d made it?

No one was there to witness what you just pulled off in total darkness. Your whole body was shaking, and you weren’t even chosen by an ikran yet. This was happening. Shit. This was totally happening!

Your excited and terrified, “Hell yeah!” went unheard apart from your aerial crowd.

But.

One among them answered your holler with its own that cut into the night like a battle horn. It was the closest one to you that was apparently watching you the whole time, starting to roar at you and twitching on its feet, shadow in the night informing you of its movements.

You’d seen from Neteyam and Lo’ak’s iknimayas that you only had a few seconds to pull your shit together until it attacked, this was meant to be dangerous, serious, you could end up as a late night snack to them if things went wrong, but you couldn’t stop grinning from ear to ear that it had chosen you.

You were chosen.

It wanted you as its rider.

If only father could see you now. The sensation of being the one — being special was unmatched. Now you could somehow get the fraction of the high he must have felt as Toruk Makto.

The, “Let’s fucking go!” that left you kept echoing into the night as you lunged at it, dodging to the left when it snapped at your head, hooking one arm around the ikran’s slender neck and clamping your legs around it the moment it started thrashing around wildly.

You didn’t know why father had made a big deal out of it. You formed tsaheylu in no time, breaking Neteyam’s record — and you didn’t even have the rope to hoop around its neck and jaw.

Firstborn daughter excellence.

Confidence restored and triumphing wildly to the pulse of your heart, the flickering smile on your face in wonder turned into a full-fledged smirk. At that moment, nothing mattered. It was just you and your victory. Proving father wrong.

Feeling the ikran’s lifeforce through the bond, a shiver went down your back as his beady eye looked up at you, pupil shrinking and expanding rapidly while you both took a minute to catch your breaths after the fierce wrestling.

“Gotcha,” you panted. “You’re mine now.”

The adrenaline made everything sparkle and shine, your spirits soaring high and unbothered about literally anything else in the world, and for one glorious moment, lost in the memories of your brothers’ iknimayas boasting with cheers from the clan and sometimes encouraging, sometimes fearful screams of your parents, your spirit sought them out to be soaked in the same pride — forgetting that it was night and nobody was there to celebrate you.

You were all alone.

The smile dropped from your face and crashed down like paper thin porcelain upon the slightest movement.

Right.

You’d forgotten you were doing this out of spite. It snuffed every twinkle of magic away from the previously shimmering milestone of your life.

Your ikran felt the crushing disappointment through your connection and chirped at you, almost like an excited sibling pulling on your arm to show you something, weirdly comforting. Mom’s ikran was a spitfire, but also nurturing — this one felt different somehow, you felt him bouncing from wall to wall in your head, hyperactive and cheerful.

Flying! He wanted to fly!

The first flight sealed the bond, after all.

You weren’t alone even if none of your family members were here to share the joy — you had your new buddy. And the drop of gravity was thrilling this time, not the terrifying chaos that had your asshole shriveling up as it was when you’d missed your step.

The flights with mom were something you looked forward to, drying up in frequency as you aged, you’d missed the wind on your body and the greenery dancing below as you maneuvered in the air — but mom reserved nighttime rides for father only, and after the move to High Camp, the skimpering chance you could get your way if you begged cutely enough was gone too. You’d never flown at night.

The sight was out of this world. The stars leaving a glowing trail above you, the forest pulsing with faint purple, green and blue lights underneath, everything was elevated in beauty because darkness let them shine.

You made loops in the air with your ikran, got as high in the air as you could before your breath thinned, and scraped at the tips of trees before shooting up again, all the while laughter you’ve never screamed before bubbled out of you.

And you were all alone. There was no mom to gleefully taunt your ikran with hers to get both of you dancing in the air. There was no father to watch on with a small smile he was fighting. There was no Neteyam to stop you from dipping too close to the ground, and no Lo’ak to challenge you to get closer to race with him — no Kiri to complain how all of you were being so childish, how stupid this was all the while she was the worst of you all, instigating all the chaos.

No Tuk in your mom’s lap whining about you guys leaving her off the fun.

Instead, there was the scent of a bogey in the air, snapping you out of the haze of sorrow.

When had you ventured out further into unprotected territory?

Linked with your thought process, the ikran stopped advancing forward and started beating his wings downward to stay unmoving, you observed the surroundings to get a better feeling of where you were, and noticed this was around the old shack, artificial lights were gliding between the leaves and branches that obscured your view of just who was roaming the grounds at night, definitely not a natural part of the forest’s flora.

Father’s voice materialized in your head, drilled into you and your siblings’ heads over and over again. If you come across any threat at all, do not engage, fall back and inform me. Got it? You call for me first.

And that split second of being afraid was your death sentence — that father would be so angry at you for your ignorance, amateurism, carelessness and idiocy that he could throw you out of the family for almost leading the demons to base simply by being there that they could figure out what direction you’d come from. That moment of weakness was enough for someone to snipe you out, and get you falling down from your ikran straight into the forest below, the cries of your new friend falling silent on your ears as you did your best to hug giant leaves to cushion your fall to the best of your ability. .

Barely any time was left for you to shake the disorienting motion sickness off, you couldn’t even attempt to run into the accepting, protective hands of the forest before whoever just shot at you was onto you, harshly gripping your arms and raising you up.

Father’s gonna be so mad if he finds out. Shit, I gotta get out of this.

But… Avatars? In full camo, armored, even. You hadn’t heard of this from anybody in camp!

“Damn! Didn’t actually think you’d be able to land the shot from all of that tree, man! Up-top!”

Two of them high-fived, you were actually going to be sick.

Thumb between his belt and stomach, another Avatar strutted towards you. The saunter and confidence meant that he was their leader. “Now, now… What do we have here?”

“A native.” You were being pushed down on your knees, one hand being grabbed and shown like a trophy. Just how many were there? You couldn't calm yourself enough to focus! “Four fingers.”

The speaker this time was a woman. “How unusual. Those monkeys don’t leave their coven at night.”

“Where were you flying, little bird?” The leader, a sleazy smirk on his face, leaned down to take a good look at you. “Leading away from the nest, perhaps?”

“She don’t understand, Colonel, don’t bother. Ya think Sully could ever manage teaching one word of English to those?”

“Watch how she learns in three seconds.” He yanked on your queue so hard you saw white light in this hour of darkness — and when your vision came back, a screen with your father’s face was being shoved to your face. “Jake Sully. Toruc Mactoe. Where is he?”

You screamed when he pulled with increasing strength, keeping up with the act you didn’t understand. And the state of pain and terror massively helped, contributing to you looking frantic and lost, only knowing that you were being zapped to your core.

“Seems like I don’t need to ask you.” His fingers snapped your head back to get a good look at your earpiece, late to notice you had it on at all because of the dark. “Can directly ask the man himself.”

All you could form to think was, ‘Father’s gonna kill me for this. He’s actually gonna kill me this time.’

You weren't terrified of what the Avatars would do to you. You were afraid of him.

One empty shell from the reloaded machine gun flew away, tinkling hollow when it fell down, and rolled until it stopped in a small pool of water that had formed on the jagged ground of the cave systems. In the scarlet and orange glow of the campfire he’d haphazardly put together right outside of their home out of impatience after Neytiri had basically thrown him out, Jake almost mistook the liquid for blood.

An ominous cloud of dread settled on his shoulders, a paranoia every father tended to go through.

“Big Brother, this is Devil Dog. State your status, over.”

Neteyam didn’t miss a beat to answer, thankfully. “Devil Dog, this is Big Brother. I’m still en route to Foxcove, over.”

“How much longer?”

“Ten minutes at best, sir. Over.”

What he wanted to say was how come he hadn’t met you halfway, but it was empty talk. No need to stress the boy out. “Devil Dog signing out.”

This girl was half the reason for the wrinkles on his forehead, Jesus Christ. He was basically waiting you out like a father sitting in the dark to ambush his daughter who had snuck out at night, for that single glorious moment of yeah that’s right, you got caught, after the light would come on to ruin that moment of relief of successfully making it back in.

His mate had scolded him to be nice and understanding, a Marine was anything but, the closest he could compromise was not being as mean to you than he had to be. Sassing, “So how was your Iknimaya?” like he planned was out the window — Neytiri was spot-on to say the girl would simply give the same mean energy right back at him, and that could only mean another erupting volcano of a fight and a good night’s sleep ruined for him, overthinking where he went wrong and how else he could have salvaged the situation.

He’d just make you tend to the ikrans for a week for some patience practice, cleaning shit for hours on a daily basis would certainly throw the temporary whim of the rite of passage hyperfixation out of your system. The possibility of you shouting you hated him was unavoidable, but Jake had to get his point across, no matter how terribly it nauseated him to hear something like that from his child.

It was strange to remember he couldn’t care less for what people thought of him in the past. Some shithead he wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about hated Jake’s guts? Good. He was living in their head rent free, it was fun even — Neytiri too, Jake absolutely enjoyed her hating game at first.

Being legitimately resented by his very own child, though, was a heartbreak he didn’t expect to hurt him the way it did, knocking air off his lungs the first time he heard it. A burning stab right in his heart that wouldn’t go away until he had to hear it for himself you hadn’t meant any of what you said.

Because that said hate actually stemmed from hurt Jake must have inflicted. Because you could actually despise him, and never allow him to reconnect with you again if he could ever manage to garner the courage to reach out to you — a mightier challenge than hunting Toruk in the sense it actually scared him.

His teenage daughter. Scared him.

Jake didn’t know what to do about it, he couldn’t even show what exactly this made him feel, too ashamed and proud for it in the first place.

The growing distance between you and him was an uneasy, frightened bird he tried to shush and calm in his heart in favor of other pressing matters that drilled small holes in the depths of his stomach, and over time, those little holes had fused together to create one big pit with greater gravitational pull than the sun — until Jake didn’t know how to stitch them back together anymore.

He told himself he would talk to you later, for sure. The morning after every argument, every fight, every jab from you he snapped at he would try to make amends for, definitely.

And then he didn’t.

“What is this, are you palulukan ambushing prey? I told you to make up with her, not prepare for hunting.”

Jake shook his head, dropping the machine gun back inside the crate. The warmed metal was some sort of consolation to his nerves. Marine habit. Always felt safer with a gun near. (Or was it the American in him?) “Neytiri,” he acknowledged, bobbing his head. “I’m just passing time.”

“What do you think will happen when she comes back and sees you waiting for her like this?”

Ah, like the old times when Jake couldn’t do one thing right in her eyes. “Yes, ma’am,” he said playfully, but with no mirth behind it, closing the crate with a muffled thunk. With nothing to do with them, one elbow went to his knee and the other hand’s fingers started a rhythm on the lid he’d just shut.

His mate’s hand gingerly came down on his shoulder, kneading the nerves. “Just talk to her, Ma’Jake.”

“I don’t know how to,” he admitted, he covered her fingers on her shoulder with his, and she immediately held his hand back. “Don’t know what to even tell her.” He gave an exhale from the deeper, tired parts of his soul, gazing at the path leading away from their tent. “With Neteyam and Lo’ak, it’s easy. I tell ‘em what to do and they—”

Neytiri took a seat next to him, gathering their hands together. “Suffer just the same.” Jake was about to brush her off, but she didn’t relent. “What you’re doing is hurting them.”

This now was about all of their children rather than you, specifically. Neytiri was trying to get him to see the bigger picture first before moving to cover what he did wrong with each child of his, they had had this conversation countless times before.

Here we go again, Jake thought.

“Doesn’t matter if that’s what it takes to keep them safe.”

“Does it?” Neytiri leaned in, and calmness washed over him despite the disturbing nature of what she was saying. “Does it keep them safe? Or push them to act out more, get in worse situations?”

He grimaced. “I have to—”

“You feel like you have to.” His mate shook their clasped hands, rattling his bones. “I keep my children safe with trust and honesty. Transparence, Ma’Jake. So that they listen to me when I mean it because they See me. You shut them out.” Her lips bared to show her pearly teeth as she was practically beseeching him. “You don’t get your children’s trust by treating them like a squad.”

“They trust me plenty.”

“They trust Olo’eyktan. Toruk Makto. What about their father?”

“I make sure they’re safe.” Neytiri dropped his hands with an agitated snarl, she thought they were back at the beginning again, he couldn’t make her truly understand no matter what he did. He poured his heart out through their tsaheylu everytime, but her values and beliefs were wired so differently from his at the end of the day. “I make sure they stay where I want them to stay for their own good.” Jake shook his head, his voice soft, hushed. No force behind it when Neytiri was heated in return. “One day they’ll understand.”

“They won’t if you never tell them.”

“Tell them what?” Jake asked. “That I’m being harsh on them to prepare them for war? You think they’ll take it seriously after this?”

“Na’vi were in war long before you. There will be wars after you. No parent sullied his child’s happiness for the price of becoming a warrior. You still don’t get our ways even after all these years.”

“The sky people’s way,” Jake emphasized with his arms. “I have to teach them how they think, what they go through, so they know what they’ll be facing, okay? I can’t simply teach them by telling them.”

“You’re deluding yourself, Jake. Contradicting.” Neytiri was gentle in her cruelty, the flickering flames burned less than her amber eyes. “Tuk and Kiri are getting none of this. I know your heart isn’t allowing you. Why can’t you do the same for your other children?”

Because he had gone too far already with the older three.

Trial and error.

He couldn’t take back the things he did and say back — and quite honestly? Jake was being pulled from all sides to sit down and rethink his parenting. All he thought anymore was how to protect his family, frequent nightmares of losing his children in gruesome ways were haunting his every step.

A father protects his children, that’s what gives him meaning.

Jake had his own desperate ways to do so.

He opened his mouth to say something back, anything, but was interrupted by the communication line coming on. “Dad.”

Jake immediately knew something was wrong, body sitting ramrod straight. If the frantic breathing and barely controlled voice wasn’t any indication of it, his eldest’s behavior was. Neteyam didn’t slip up in the codenames like Lo’ak did, dropped all formalities only when he was borderline panicking.

“Dad. I’m sorry, dad, sir, I can’t find her, dad, I’ve looked everywhere around here, I thought maybe she was hiding underwater, behind rocks—but I can’t, I can’t—.”

“Slow down.” Jake could barely contain his own panic rising from the state his son was in. The boy wasn’t able to see it, but he couldn’t stop himself from leaning in as if Neteyam was right in front of him, and started gesturing with his hand. “Slow down, son.”

“Dad—”

Jake tsk-ed. “Neteyam, slow. Slow.”

Neytiri took his elbow. “What is it?”

He told her to wait with his gaze, and turned his attention back to Neteyam. This could only mean one thing, he was praying to be wrong — needed clarification. “Now tell me calmer. What’s going on?”

“She’s never been here. She never came here in the first place. There’s no sign of her. No trace. I’ve tracked.”

Jake’s instant response was fear. Domineering, ice-cold, cutting fear. Bodily and emotionally both. You were clockwork, similar to him in having unchanging routines and patterns. Angry? Went for a walk. Depressed? No talking to anyone until it passed. Happy? Wanted to go to the forest to spend time with your siblings and always craved sweet fruit. Didn’t want to be around anyone? Hid in the little bioluminescent cove with a pond two little mountains away, always. Always.

Neytiri sensed this, observing the change of demeanor in him.“Ma’Jake?”

“Okay, son.” He seized back control. One missing child was enough. “Stay right there and don’t move. I’ll contact you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Jake,” Neytiri hissed finally, at the end of her ropes.

“She didn’t go to the cove,” he said, face icy neutral as always, but his eyes showed dizzying concern. Neytiri put a hand on her mouth as Jake wasted no time in changing channels. “Night Owl, this is Devil Dog. Come in.” He couldn’t even wait two seconds before trying again. “Night Owl, what is your status? Where are you?”

Silence.

The more fear dug deeper into his skin, the more his anger and annoyance soared up, his tail was whipping the air erratically, the finger on the earpiece could send the metal right into his brain with how hard he was pressing on it. “I know you can hear me. This is no time for playing games. You know what you did to your brother? Do you know how panicked he was, not being able to find you—”

Then Jake remembered what Neytiri advised, he didn’t change strategies because she was right next to him to dig his eyes out, but because his heart was picking up its pace by the second. “Tell me where you are, I’ll leave you alone, I promise, alright? If you’re somewhere open, get to safety, I’m only asking this from you. Or else—”

“Don’t.” Neytiri raised a warning finger at him, voice just above a whisper so they could hear their daughter if she decided to cut in. “Threaten her.”

He couldn’t stop her from snatching the communication device off of him. “Ma’ite, it’s mom. Can you talk to me at least?”

His ears twitched at picking up on you responding, not quite making out the words.

Jake’s eyes shut close for a long time as his whole eyebrow line migrated upwards, he physically had to get a few steps between him and the earpiece so the obliviating worry that’d almost blinded him wouldn’t cause him to say something he’d greatly regret later. He could feel himself deflating. A migraine could be coming anytime soon.

You wouldn’t even acknowledge his existence but the moment your mother interrupted, you did? Fine. Fine. He didn’t care. Jake could live with it. At least you were alive.

A rippling shudder shook him the moment that thought hit him, an image of you lying dead in a ditch, pale blue, flashing in his mind, he had to run a hand down his face.

When Jake looked back, irked by the silence, he found Neytiri standing completely stock-still. And all of a sudden, her petrifying glare was on him, ears pinned all the way back, hands gradually starting to tremble.

“Neytiri?”

She wordlessly handed him the device, and with a deep frown, Jake put it back in his ear.

“Hi there Corporal, you hear me? Yeah, I know you do. As much as I’m charmed by the fatherly love I could give you a big old sloppy wet kiss, we have unfinished business.”

And the ground disappeared right under Jake’s feet, plunging him into hell itself.

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meowcatsposts · 1 year

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Necklace [Ao'nung]

✎⁾⁾⁾ note: reader is metkayina & Ao'nung is probably OOC

Overview

Boy is jealous (not good at hiding it, either-)

Why? The Sully kids.

He has a necklace he wants to give you, but he just can't

You hissed in Ao’nung’s face–baring your teeth just a little bit–hoping he’d get the message. Your eyes burned. Your tail swished. The Sully kids looked at you in awe. How were you, a mere Metkayina, able to stand up against the Olo’eyktan’s son?

Ao’nung and the rest of his gang remained silent–awestruck, even. No one dared to oppose him, really, let alone hiss in his face! You were a bold one, for sure, to do something like that.

“Leave them alone,” you said. It struck ice into everyone’s hearts but you felt calm, unlike the blood roaring in your ears; perhaps it was Eywa who was soothing you. “We’re all equal. Get that into your thick skulls.”

From that day on, the Sully kids stuck to you like glue–even dragged you around so they wouldn’t get bullied.

Great timing. Absolutely perfect.

Ao’nung couldn’t shake off this…sting from earlier. He thought you’d react like him–not like his sister Tsireya. He thought you didn’t like outsiders; you even said you’d only accept a Metkayina mate! You and Tsireya were too warm to the Sully kids–who had five fingers, lanky blue bodies, and thin tails–helping them and cheering them on in the ocean. What were you–a freak, too?

Ao’nung looked down at his hand. Resting on his palm was a necklace, hand-made by him–for you. He wove the cord by hand, always doubting if it would be too tight or too loose. He hand-picked every shell; they had to be the perfect size. He even waited until nighttime to pick out the ones that glowed the prettiest, the brightest. And the clasp–the hardest part. He hand-carved a small conch into a clasp, so you needn’t go through the trouble of tying the necklace. It took him hours to complete. Sometimes, his hands got so tired he had trouble feeling his fingers the next day. (But he’d brush it off; he was Tonowari and Ronal’s son, after all–the Olo’eyktan and Tsahik.)

Ao’nung’s blood boiled. To think that all his efforts would go to waste!

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” Tuktirey squealed. She latched onto your leg and gazed up at you with her gleaming, glowing eyes of childish glee.

“What is it?” you asked, wondering what the youngest Sully kid wanted. Tuk was cute, always running around the marui and playing with the sea life.

“Can you take me to the ilu again? Please?” she pleaded. It was almost every day she asked you to take her to feed the ilu, watch the ilu, or ride the ilu, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say “no” to that cute little face.

Taking Tuk’s smaller hand into yours you replied, “Ok,” with a smile adorning your lips.

Ao’nung gazed at you from afar, blood pumping hotly. His heart was beating fast, even he could tell. Like Tsireya, how were you able to treat the Sully kids so nicely, like they were Metkayina? He was supposed to be kind, respectful, but right now, he just couldn’t. Especially when you were being so cordial and smiley–even defended them! What were you thinking?

He saw you and the little Sully girl ride an ilu, giggling and laughing. And it wasn’t the first time, either. On other occasions he saw you mingling with Neteyam, Lo’ak, or Kiri, helping them with their breathing, ilu riding, diving…way more than necessary, in his opinion. Heck, you even touched them!

A burning scar lingered in Ao’nung’s mind. Your teeth, bared at him. Your eyes, boring through him. Him! Him! Not the outsiders!

Ao’nung gripped the hilt of his fishing spear. Hard. So hard until his knuckles turned bluish-white.

You, Ao’nung, Rotxo, and other young Metkayina were to fish along the reefs, so you left Tuk under Kiri’s care. The little one would be safe with Kiri, you knew.

“Thank you,” the older Sully girl said, bobbing in the water with Tuk.

The water, glistening off your skin. The sun, shining on your hair and your eyes, lighting them up like halos. The ocean, hugging and caressing your body that cut through the gentle waves so fluidly.

“Ao’nung,” Rotxo whispered, throwing glances your way; he easily guessed what his friend was thinking. “Your fish swam away.”

Seeing that his prize was nowhere to be found, Ao’nung clicked his tongue, eyes narrowing in disgust. He was supposed to be a skilled hunter and diver for his age–not staring at some freak-lover.

“You caught enough, though,” Rotxo added quickly, hoping to quell his friend’s frustration. It seeped through his entire being, Rotxo could tell, and it unnerved him. Why was Ao’nung acting so prickly?

“You good?” Rotxo asked, looking into Ao’nung’s eyes. They’ve been cloudy for the past few days.

“I’m fine,” Ao’nung replied curtly. He didn’t dare look into Rotxo’s eyes. Or else he’d crumble and tell him everything.

Everyone had returned from fishing, and you were nowhere to be seen–probably with the Sully kids again. That thought alone had Ao’nung’s blood boiling mildly.

Rotxo snorted and rolled his eyes. Ao’nung wasn’t fine, duh.

Ao’nung snapped, and he snarled, “What?”

“Just making sure you’re not going to pick a fight with Lo’ak again,” Rotxo teased. After a short, uncomfortable silence he whispered, “You know you can tell me.”

Ao’nung just grunted.

“It’s about (Y/N), isn’t it?” Seeing that his friend’s ears perked up a little, Rotxo continued, “Just give your gift. At least you’ll be able to confess.”

At first you thought Ao’nung gave it to the wrong person, but it wasn’t so. His eyes were way too shy, way too genuine. They were soft, reflecting the moonlight, not hard like obsidian. And they darted around like fish.

A necklace, handmade, lay in your palms. Woven delicately into the cord were several small shells, each placed an equal distance from each other. In the day they would reflect the sunlight, glimmering softly. At night they would glow prettily, almost like the sky–purple, blue, a tinge of pink. At the end of the necklace was a clasp, carved out of a conch. Speckles of pink dotted the glossy ivory. You remained silent the whole time, out of words; words just couldn’t express the feelings swirling in your heart.

Ao’nung, on the other hand, was growing agitated, quietly wondering if you’d reject his gift. His eyes flitted from your wide ones to the necklace as he fought the urge to jump into the ocean. (The necklace took him ages to craft, though, so he prayed to Eywa you’d accept it with a smile, at least.)

Finally cutting the thick silence he asked bitterly, “What, you hate it?” The poor boy tried to hide the hurt gurgling in his stomach. “I can take it back–”

Before Ao’nung could snatch the piece of jewelry from your hands you pulled it back to your chest, replying with a defiant, “No!”

“What?” Ao’nung’s ears flattened slightly; he was confused. “Then why were you quiet?”

“I…I like it,” you said shyly–so softly that Ao’nung doubted his ears. “I like it a lot…I just don’t know what to say.” After a brief pause you found the words you were searching for, and gazed earnestly into Ao’nung’s eyes. “It’s beautiful. Very, very beautiful. Thank you.”

You accepted his gift! Bitter feelings washed away, Ao’nung nearly melted right then and there. He thought he could get sucked into those sweet eyes of yours.

“...Here,” he mumbled. “I’ll help you put it on.”

Ao’nung, with a gentleness that even he was surprised at, parted your hair. It was his first time touching you like this, so tenderly, so affectionately. With trembling fingers he brought the cord around your neck, and clicked the clasp shut. After huffing (more out of stress-relief than frustration), he stood in front of you and eyed the necklace that rested beautifully against your collarbones. Then, a beaming, prideful smile creeped up his lips.

It fit perfectly.

blue dividers by: firefly-graphics

#avatar way of water #na'vi #na'vi x reader #aonung #aonung x reader #avatar 2 #metkayina #avatar #avatar x reader

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demonmarker · 2 months

Text

Beautiful with you

Regina x Reader (Masc. Lesbian)

Chapter 1

Regina George. The Queen B of North Shore High, known for her dominance and the fact that anything she does is always for her self-gain, and you have absolutely nothing to do with her. Never had, never will, so you thought.

Like any other day you sat by yourself in the cafeteria at lunch, drawing in your sketchbook like you always did with your Doc Martin feet kicked up on the table, earbuds in with Bad Omens playing in your ear as you work on your latest idea for a new tattoo on the back of your neck when at the corner of your eye you see movement and… pink? You glance in the direction of the movement and see none other than THE Regina George clicking her fingers at you to get your attention. You had a small hallway crush on Regina. But who doesn't? You even have a realism drawing of her in your sketchbook, but you didn’t bother drooling over her or even bother trying to talk to her. You tried doing the whole friends thing when you were a kid and you were always left crying and humiliated, so it was a loner life for you and your sketchbook was the only friend you needed. Curiosity getting the best of you, you pulled out one of your ear buds showing she got your attention, “Regina” your voice low and husky since you never really talked much at school. “Oh my god finally,” your eyes narrow, not impressed by her opening line. “Come sit with us”, waving a beaconing hand. You lift one of your eyebrows up in suspicion, “Me? The tattooed lesbian loner freak? Sitting at the Plastics table? With the most popular and beautiful girls in the whole school? Yeah, I can see a red flag when I see it so… I’m going to pass.” Regina stuck her chest out proudly with a matching smile, “You think I’m beautiful?” You rolled your eyes and put your earbud back in your ear signalling that that was the end of their conversation. At the corner of your eye you see Regina get out of her seat and walk off, guessing you did the trick, no way was she really wanting to hang with you, like every other time it would probably have ended in a cruel prank that everyone but you found hilarious. Without warning your sketchbook was ripped out of your hands by the familiar blond using your book to swat your feet off the table, sitting where they once were. “Hey! What the fuck?!” Regina just held up her hand to silence you, and it. Fucking. Worked. The abruptness took you off guard. Queen B started flipping through your drawings, your cheeks going red knowing that the drawing you did of her is in there. “Hey, that’s private!” you tried snatching your art diary back but she was quicker, moving it out of your reach. “I don’t know why, these are surprisingly good. I was expecting stick figures at best, look you even coloured inside the lines.” Ignoring the insult your leg starts anxiously bobbing up and down rapidly from the anticipation of her discovering the drawing of herself, in that moment you’d rather defuse a bomb. Flicking another page Regina stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening and her mouth agape. The feeling of being so helpless to stop the inevitable made your anger rise, flashbacks of people laughing and humiliating you start running through your head. It wasn’t fair! This keeps happening again and again. Your anger gets the better of you and you abruptly get up from the table and storm off.

Getting to your locker, you attempt to enter the code into the lock but of course in you fit of rage you missed a number and that was the straw that broke the camel’s back as you smash your fist into the metal door “Fuck!”, removing your bloody fist from the now red dent in the locker door, you pinch the bridge of your nose as you feel a migraine coming on. “My god, you are such a drama queen!” the familiar voice of the cause of your anger exclaimed from behind. Your head snaps to see the blond beauty again, her eyes go to the bloody fist print you dented into your locker “Got it all out?” her eyebrows raised, seeing the blood, her eyes darted to your bloody knuckles hanging by your side. She gave an exaggerated sigh and grabbed you by the sleeve of your dark red leather jacket, “Come with me”, not like you had an option.

Pulling you out to the car park and to her red jeep she opened the passenger door and then the glove box grabbing a small first aid kit out, she held her hand out for your injured one and all you could do was watch in stunned silence as this woman–who everyone saw as the Queen Bitch herself–delicately cleaned and bandaged your injury. She glanced up at your confused expression “Stop looking at me like that you dork.” Being called out made your cheeks go red, instantly reacting you let out a “Sorry” like you got caught with your hand in the cookie jar. “Wait, why am I apologizing? You started this, give me back my sketchbook!” tying the bandage’s knot she raised her hands defensively. “Hey, I didn’t tell you to chuck a hissy fit and punch your locker now did I dummy? Say please and I’ll give you the sketchbook,” she grinned. Your eyebrows scrunched “No!” you snapped back. Lifting an eyebrow with a mischievous grin, she took a step closer to you while pulling your face down to hers, your faces barely inches apart, “Say. Please.” Your cheeks went beat red, being so close to the beautiful goddess you could smell her perfume and feel her breath on your face, all making you want to give into her, the want to obey your submissive side was almost overwhelming, “P-please”. Her grin grew, her hand still holding your collar pulled you the rest of the way to her lips. Those lips. Those soft, plump, intoxicating lips. You completely lose yourself, never wanting the kiss to end. She wraps her arm around your neck, her hand gently caressing the back of your head under your tied up black hair where your undercut is shaved almost to the skin. When you let a moan escape your throat you feel her something flat being pushed against your chest which you instinctively grab blindly. Pulling back, Regina ended the kiss by pulling on your lower lip with her teeth which you automatically moaned to. She put her forehead against yours reaching up she wipes her lipstick from your lips, softly whispering to your lips “Good girl”.

When you come down from cloud nine you see her already walking back to the main school building, Fuck, what just happened? You look down to the object in your hands and find your sketchbook with one page dog eared. You turn to the marked page which was the drawing of Regina, a message written in the open space of the page “You're kinda hot, come to my place after school today. Meet me by my car.” You couldn’t stop your heart from racing, Regina George just kissed you! And she wants to meet up with you again! The rational side of your brain kicked in and made you question if this was all some sort of trick, telling you to keep your walls up, scenarios like this don’t happen to loners like you. It’s not like you could hang out after school anyway.

Trying to get through all the scattering people at the end of school was always a nightmare but you manage to make your way to Regina’s jeep, the blond standing against the bright red car in waiting. Seeing you approach she straightens up “Hey Loser, you ready to go?” you roll your eyes at the nickname. “I’m sorry I can’t today.” She crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow. “Oh? And why not?” “I-“ you start but you hesitate, you look off into the distance as you argue with yourself whether to tell her the truth and let her in, no one knows what really goes on in your life and you liked that way it kept everyone safe. Or should you just brush it off and leave it at that? You release a sigh, “Would you be up to letting me show you?” Regina narrowed her eyes wondering if she should trust you or not “You’re not going to take me to some creepy warehouse and murder me are you? The pretty blond always dies first and you got the whole broody, loner killer vibe going on” she gestured to your whole person. You roll your eyes “Do you want to or not?” Chucking her hands up in defeat “Argh fine”, she walked to the passenger side of her car as you got in the drivers. Once comfortable you get a confused look on your face as you look at the dash, Regina looking at you with her own look of confusion, “Remind me again which one is the brake and which one is the accelerator”

The look of disbelief she gave you was priceless, “You can’t be serious” You cackle from her reaction, “I’m joking” you continue to laugh as she slaps your arm, already feeling at ease around her. “Don’t worry I’ve got my full license, your baby is safe with me.” “She fucking better be” she mumbled.

Ch.02 Ch.03

#regina george x reader #fanfic #lesfic #masc lesbian #renee rapp #mean girls #renee rapp x reader

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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months

Text

Hi Barbie

Jana Fernández x Vilamala!Reader

Summary: You're Barbie and Jana's just Ken

"Has she stopped freaking out?" Patri asks, leaning in the doorway.

"What makes you think I'm magic?" Pina asks back with an eye roll," Nobody can stop her freaking out."

"We should just send y/n back to England. This is way too much trouble."

"No!" Jana speaks for the first time since Patri arrived, looking up at her with wild eyes. "You can't!"

"I don't think anyone can tell y/n Vilamala what to do but I'm happy that you think I have that power."

Your name was one that Jana had known for years. At nearly two years older than Bruna, you had been a staple in Jana's life ever since the two became friends.

You were...

You were everything.

You played, officially, for Barcelona but had fine-angled your way into a loan to Arsenal this year to help Codina settle in there. There was really no reason for you to do that. You had regular minutes at Barca. You were almost always in the starting eleven.

But you went anyway, just to help Laia.

Everything went well for you. You had Champions Leagues under your belt. You had awards from FIFA. You had recently been crowned a World Cup winner.

And Jana...

Jana was Jana and she felt like her entire life could be fixed by a simple smile from you.

Which was, probably, why she was freaking out so much as she waited for everybody to arrive. You were everything and she just wanted you to see her as her rather than your little sister's best friend.

"God," Pina groans, pulling Jana up and out of the room," You're hopeless."

"She's already here," Patri says," So suck it up and don't make a massive fool of yourself."

But Jana's not listening anymore, her focus entirely on you.

You're relaxed, leaning up on the back of the sofa with a drink in your hand as you chat with Paredes and Paños.

And...Jana's star struck by you.

Your hair is loose and unbound, flowing freely and you run a hand through it before taking a swig of your drink. You tip your head back to drain it all, the column of your throat bobbing as you swallow.

Everything falls into place as you catch her eye from across the room and smile.

"Ew."

Jana doesn't know when Bruna joined her but she does know that her best friend is looking at her in disgust.

"Stop staring at my sister like that. You'll give her the creeps."

Jana just sighs wistfully as you flash her another smile before re-joining your conversation again.

"You're so gross," Bruna continues," That's my sister."

"Yeah," Jana says," It must really suck for you. To be related to such perfection."

"I think I prefer you when you're not pining over her. Are you actually going to talk to her properly today or do I need to be a buffer?"

Jana turns to her friend, smoothing down her hair and straightening her clothes. "How do I look?" She asks," Presentable?"

"Like normal? I don't know."

"I'm going to talk to your sister today," Jana says," Properly. I'm going to be funny and charming and she's going to fall in love with me."

"You put in too much effort," Bruna replies, rolling her eyes," It's just my sister. She got her hand stuck in a pringle's can once. She's not worth the effort."

Jana ignores her, walking up to you just as Paredes and Paños exchange knowing looks and excuse themselves. In her head, Jana is psyching herself up. She's so focused on what she's going to say that she isn't paying attention to the fact that her laces aren't done up and trips over one, slamming right into you.

"Careful there, Jana," You say with a smile and she practically melts in your arms," I'm not around as often to catch you."

The next words out of Jana's mouth are a little embarrassing given Jana's position pressed up against you. "Hi, y/n."

But, thankfully, you seem to find it amusing. "Hi, Jana."

You're smiling at her again and all thoughts have emptied out of Jana's head as she offers her own smile back. You help her right herself but your hand on her waist never leaves even as Patri and Pina arrive to talk.

They both exchange mischievous grins and flashing smiles that promise teasing.

"How's your day been, y/n?" Patri asks," How was the flight?"

"The flight was fine," You reply, always sunningly optimistic," I have a great day every day."

Pina snickers. "Jana only has a great day if you look at her."

You laugh as Jana's cheeks flush. "I doubt that," You say," Girls like Jana always have great days. She's so talented and special. Girls like Jana never have bad days."

Your compliments make her feel like a tomato and she hides her face in your shoulder before immediately realising it was the wrong idea because your hand comes up to cup the back of her head to keep her there.

Patri and Pina laugh loudly before backing away with playful grins.

"You don't need to be embarrassed," You say once they're gone," Patri and Pina are silly sometimes but they don't mean any harm."

Jana's brain short circuits as she pulls away from your shoulder to look at you. All she can think of is one thing so she says it. "Hi, y/n."

You smile at her in amusement. "Hi, Jana." You brush some of her hair out of her face. "Do we get to have a conversation or are we just going to say hello to each other all day?"

Jana opens her mouth to respond (even though she has no response lined up for you) but Bruna cuts in smoothly.

"You two should go on a date," Your sister says," y/n, Jana's been crushing on you since you first met. Jana, y/n was never going to make the first move so you need to sort out everything."

You make a little squeaking sound in shock before you bat Bruna away.

"Don't mind her," You say," Mama dropped her on the head a few too many times as a baby. She doesn't always think when she speaks."

"It's fine," Jana manages to say, grabbing at enough of her brain cells to form a coherent sentence. She also grabs enough to realise that this is her chance to ask you out on a date.

Only...she doesn't ask.

She grasps your hand tightly and says," We will date."

It's horrifyingly embarrassing because practically everyone has been eavesdropping so now, the whole room is filled with laughter.

Everyone's laughing but you.

You squeeze her hand. "You're very forward, Jana," You say, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek," I like that. Okay. Let's date."

#woso x reader #jana fernandez x reader #jana fernandez #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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abibliophobiaa · 1 year

Note

Hii hope you're having a lovely day

Can I get a forced proximity,fake dating smut with Eddie Munson and the phrase "come on I won't bite, unless you're into that"

this was such a fun prompt! below is 4k of eddie and r just being adorable as hell. warnings: fluff; barely edited because i’m at work and die like bob in the docs; fem!reader; smut, so 18+ minors dni.

It was supposed to be simple: show up to your ex's wedding with a date, so that way your friends from college wouldn’t look at you with pitying gazes that clearly said, “Look at the poor, sad, tragically lonely girl.”

For the record, you were none of those things. And maybe it was a little dramatic to think that way. Also yeah, maybe you received those questions from time to time—asked innocently enough, usually—when you planned on settling down, but what if you never wanted to?

But pretending, at the time, to be in a relationship seemed easier than avoiding all of those questioning stares and probing comments.

It had been Max’s idea, actually; you’d been helping tutor her for a college math test when she noticed the invitation on the fridge and you’d laughed about how it was your ex and you still frequented the same friend group, which meant being invited to his wedding was an absolute. You murmured to her in confidence that you really weren’t excited about going; mentioned you were the only one in your college friend group who hadn’t been married off yet or popped out a kid (you shuddered to think of either of the two).

“Why not bring a fake boyfriend or something?” She asked. It seemed so…silly at first. You’d arched a brow in her direction and chuckled to yourself, the tip of your pencil tapping against her loose leaf notebook absentmindedly. At your confusion, she proceeded, “You know? Ask Steve or Argyle…Eddie.”

“Don’t say Eddie like that,” you grumbled, chewing at the eraser tip.

The redhead flicked one of her braids over her shoulder, shrugging. “Don’t say Eddie like what?”

“How you did just now! You didn’t just say Eddie,” you explained, dropping your pencil down onto the paper. “You said Eddie. Like you’re insinuating something.”

“Yeah, like the big freaking crush you’ve had on him since you two were in high school together—”

“Your answer to number five is wrong.”

Max snorted. And that was that.

Luckily, Eddie’s amicable as he always is. When you suggest coming as your date, he’s quick to ask for times to pick you up and requesting the attire for the event. It’s an evening wedding, and he shows up in a dark suit that matches the color of his hair. The same suit that now rests over the back of his chair, the sleeves of his shirt beneath rolled up to the elbow, revealing endless whirls of tattoos he’s collected over the years since he graduated high school.

He’s—well, Eddie on a normal day is breathtaking. All dark hair that falls in waves to his shoulders, broad smiles, dark eyes that can see through your soul. Charming as hell, and just as charismatic. He’s the kind of person that brightens every room he walks into and graces with his presence.

Eddie at a wedding?

You’re practically heaving into your champagne glass with how disturbingly—and unfairly—handsome he looks, but he can’t know that, so you play it off that you’ve danced one too many songs and need a moment to collect yourself.

“Think the plan is working?” He muses, leaning over to sip at your glass. “Think we’ve fooled enough people so grandma over there can stop clutching her pearls asking if you’ve accepted your spinsterhood?”

Honestly, the whole fake dating thing isn’t as bad as you initially thought. Eddie’s been ever the gentleman, holding open doors, holding your hand, holding the side of your hip. It’s great for the optical illusion you’re trying to portray, but it’s terrible for the ever painful kick-thump throb of your heart in your chest.

“Why? You wanna get out of here?” You likely can. You’ve stayed for the ceremony, most of dinner. You’ve even danced with Eddie a bit on the dance floor, introduced him to a few of your college friends, let him press a kiss to your cheek during the ‘couple’s dance’ after he’d suggested you try on the lips and you nearly broke an ankle, tripping up in your movements from the mere suggestion of doing something so insane. “We could always head back to the hotel room?”

Oh—and therein lay the other problem aside from your cardiovascular symptoms as a direct result of Eddie’s proximity: the hotel reservation somehow got all mixed up and you only afforded yourselves one bed.

One.

Singular.

Eddie had reassured the front desk employee that it was no issue, but you’d slapped your card onto the countertop and asked—admittedly pleaded—if they could check again for another room. It was with pitying gazes that they advised, because of the wedding, all the other available rooms were full. Which left you and Eddie with a king size bed for the night.

“It’s fine,” Eddie had teased, tossing pillows down the center of the bed after both tossed all of your things onto the floor. “Here’s our bundling board. You better not try to jump my bones in my sleep now.”

The thought itself has your thighs sliding together, mind swimming as your friend’s ring clad fingers trail against your forearm, drawing you back to reality. You turn with a ‘huh,’ your eyes meeting his as he says, “I’m fine with that if y—”

You’re interrupted by the sound of Clarissa, your ex’s new bride, calling your name from another table away. You’ve been friends with her for years, studied in the same program for your undergrad degree, and remained as such even after she came to you one day in the library and asked if it would be okay to date Jared. And it was; you’d been broken up for some months, anyway, after all. All adults who could handle weird circumstances.

Just like right now, as Jared joins his new bride’s side and extends a hand to greet Eddie. “Is this the guy that swept our friend here off her feet? Nice to meet you…”

“Eddie,” Eddie says, reaching over to grasp Jared’s hand and shake it. He’s just as charming when Clarissa leans down and urges you both forward in tight hugs, giggling brightly over how nice the two of you look and blushing when Eddie speaks again saying, “You look beautiful. Congrats, you two.”

“Congrats you two,” Clarissa practically trills, clapping excitedly. She mouths over Eddie’s shoulder, “He’s gorgeous.”

You can only pathetically shrug in agreement before Jared’s asking how the two of you met and Eddie tugs you so close to him you’re practically sitting on his lap. Your hand manages to grip his thigh to steady yourself when your chair wobbles, and his palm swallows yours upon doing so. He lifts it up to his mouth to brush a gentle kiss against the back of it. Your skin bursts to life with a thousand bubbles dancing along your skin, though you chalk it up to the champagne buzzing in your system.

Heat coils again as he turns to look at you, brown eyes fathomless as he says, “Back in high school. She walked into first period math class and she waved at me and I knew it was all over after that. But we only recently realized we wanted to be more than friends; figured it was about time to take a chance. Best choice I’ve made in a long time, really. Now we’re inseparable. Unbreakable. Insatiable—”

You elbow him slightly, cutting his words off. “Insatiable, Ed?”

Clarissa and Jared are none the wiser. The both of them only lean into one another, Clarissa glowing with her bridal beauty and Jared looking like he’s fallen in love with her all over again as Eddie regales them with your fake relationship origin story.

“Can you act like you actually like me?” He grumbles near your temple, that palm curling around your hip again to draw you even closer. Heat coils in your belly once more as that mouth drops lower, hot breath fanning along the shell of your ear, his voice a husk of, “Relax. I won’t bite…unless you’re into that.”

So, maybe you can’t swallow the breathy sigh that punches its way up your throat. And maybe your thighs clench beneath the table. But they’re all mere side effects to the man hypnotizing everyone around him with his charm, casualties of the battle waging war behind your ribcage. Even so, the damage is done; the carnage remaining in the wake of your inner turmoil is evident in the slow curl of his lips, the proud smirk lining those presently devilish features.

He’s thoroughly enjoying himself—enjoying the effects his presence has on you, even under the guise of pretending you’re something you’re not. So if your eyes roll in your skull when he leans down and presses a barely-there kiss beneath your ear, it’s only because he’s really wonderful at the elaborate facade you’ve both concocted.

It’s only because, over the years of being DM, he’s perfected the art of performance.

It’s that and nothing more.

Call the casual touches and flirting throughout the night side effects of a few glasses of champagne and loosened inhibitions. Call the glances across the dance floor nothing more than intrigue and longing for a ‘what if?’ Call the brush of his fingers against your skin, the press of lips, the hand on your hip nothing more than part of an act. Because that’s all it is.

Or so you think and have conditioned yourself to think.

But that tension lingers long after Clarissa and Jared wish you well. It lingers in the breaths filling the elevator on your way back to the room, it seeps into the pauses in your conversation. It grows and curls like a bowstring in your belly, drawn tight when Eddie slides the key into your hotel room door and pushes it open.

“If I didn’t know any better, Munson, I would have thought you were flirting with me earlier,” you hum, a casual laugh breaking into the otherwise quiet of your newfound privacy with the man, toeing off your heels near the door. “And the little speech about how we started ‘dating’ was really convincing. Either that or you should reconsider a career in acting.”

“What if I was, though?” His voice is soft. Softer than it’s been all night, a tremulous breath that makes your stomach clench. “Flirting with you, I mean.”

Before you, you can see two options laid out on a platter: you push into unknown territory, a world of possibility should you choose to open your heart to him; or, you brush his affection aside and preserve what you already have, not wishing to disrupt the balance of your life as you know it.

Eddie is friends with your friends.

You’re friends with his friends.

When lines become blurry, relationships are put at risk. Sides might need to be taken. There are other people involved outside of the two of you. But a louder thought rings true. An understanding that it’s Eddie. Eddie, who has only ever put your own needs above his. Always first. Wanted what was best for you at all times. Would it, then, be such a terrible thing to be selfish just this once?

“If you were…” you begin, stepping across the room to meet him where he stands. Your fingers trail up to his tie, the dark red material like blood sifting through your fingers, “did you mean it? The story too?”

“Since first period math class senior year—well, your senior year. My first senior year.” He chuckles uneasily, palm moving to slide over the span of his shoulder, easing at a knot. Watches you slide your fingers up along the fabric, moving up to help loosen the knot around his neck. You fumble with it for a moment, his breath spilling across your forehead, your bottom lip between your teeth when he rasps out, “Can I kiss you?”

And you’re nodding your head rapidly, gasping as his hand slides up to rest against the small of your back, guiding your frame closer to him. You practically ooze into his chest, bodies warm and humming with anticipation as he walks you backward over toward the bed and groans into your bottom lip presently pinched between his teeth as you tug at his tie and drag him into the cradle of your thighs down to where you lay in a sprawl of limbs against the mattress.

“Oh…” He pauses in his ministrations, breaking apart with a gasp despite your whines of protest to run a palm along the mattress. You flop down onto your back as the man presses the same palm against the topper, watching it shift and move beneath his weight. “Oh this is nice. Much better than my shitty one back home.”

“Eddie…” His head jolts back your way, as if he remembers you’re lying beneath him, waiting for him to help you out of your dress, and drops a kiss down against the curve of your neck. You hum to yourself and grasp his chin, dragging his mouth near to yours. He brushes your lips once, twice, and you tell him, panting, “I really like you, Eddie.”

He sighs as your hands finally help free the tie from around his neck and you toss the fabric into the far corner of the room, fingers dropping down to start working on the line of buttons down his chest inch by inch until you’re met with dark ink and a trail of hair against the bump of his stomach that disappears into his waistband and has you leaning forward to press a kiss to his exposed sternum. Beneath you can feel the rapid thrum of his heart, can taste the salt on his skin, flesh still warm from all your dancing in the wedding hall.

He’s climbing over to the top of the bed, bringing you with him, and rearranging the two of you so you can lay side by side. One of his palms starts a gentle slide up your back to grasp at the zipper pulled all the way to your neckline. His eyes implore yours briefly, a gentle exchange with no words, and your head dips. The sound of the metal dragging down your spine reaches your ears, fabric soon pooling around your ankle before he’s tossing it over onto the far corner of his room with the rest of both your clothes.

You take a moment to look at one another. Eyes roving across skin, fingers following in their wake. He trails his fingers along your shoulder, down the path of your sternum, swirls a circle around the soft skin of your abdomen until your sides shake with laughter. You watch those exhausted eyes of his trail along the curve of your hip, the bend of your knee, the crux between your thighs. Nearly gasp into his collar bone when he hikes a thigh over his hip and draws you in for another kiss, and you can feel the hot press of him briefly—albeit too briefly—against your center.

Those kisses, burning with a fresh fervor, draw breathless sighs from your lips. His words against your skin, telling you how beautiful you are, how he’s wanted this moment, how he wants to watch you fall apart against his fingers when he asks if he can touch you have you mewling with want, shuddering at the first brush of his fingers through your slick, warm and welcome between your thighs.

But it’s in that languid exploration that the two of you start to slow down, champagne bubbles that still linger in both your bellies making your eyes more and more tired with each passing moment, fingers becoming gentler, lingering longer. He sighs when you lean over to brush a kiss against his throat and suck, but it settles in the air and you can’t help the airy giggle that spills from your lips when one of his hands waves lackadaisical in the air as you ask, “Falling asleep on me, Munson?”

“No—no,” he groans. He presses a gentle kiss to your throat, and feels your pulse skitter beneath your skin. “Jus’ g’me a second. Wanna make you feel good.”

It’s a shame, a sin really, how even in his tired, partially blissed out state, Eddie Munson still has the power to make your insides liquify. Especially when those eyes start to flutter as he tries to focus his attention on you, lashes lingering longer and longer against the tops of his cheekbones in his efforts to stay awake.

With one last press of your mouth against his, you slide off the bed and help yank down the comforter enough so he can crawl inside, sleepy sighs spilling from his tattooed chest. Satisfied, you clamber in beside him and smile to yourself as that same chest aligns against your spine, arm looping low around your waist, and you both drift into a slumber.

It’s early when you wake again. Sunlight starts to filter in through the windows, the clock to your left reading seven in the morning. Luckily, it’s a Saturday and your check out time isn’t until eleven, which means more than enough room to shower and get ready to head back home to Hawkins. You’re about to clamber out of bed when you feel Eddie’s hand against your stomach shift. Butterflies burst to life at the gentle caress of his skin against yours, fluttering away only seconds later when the man in question grumbles, “Oh shit. Oh shit, sweetheart. I fell asleep.”

“You did,” you giggle, your calf brushing along the hairs lining his own. He groans, face pressing between your shoulder blade, hips flush against your ass and you continue, “It’s okay, though. You were tired.”

“We were…and I was…shit.” He huffs against your skin, hooking his chin over your shoulder to then brush a kiss against the plushness of your cheek. Then once more in that space beneath your ear that has you shuddering against him.

He starts a slow path along the side of your neck, laving kiss after kiss into your flesh, trailing down your shoulder. He starts to mark his way back upward, igniting every inch of you with a fresh fire when you gasp out, “We, ahh—mmm—still have a few hours before we need to leave.”

For emphasis, to really drive home your wishes in the moment, you slide your thigh up and over his, your hips moving backward to press needily against where you know he’s hard already. Those talented hands of his that strum along his guitar at the countless Corroded Coffin shows you’ve been to begin to work a slow path up your thigh, calluses tantalizing against skin. You push back harder against him, feeling his returning roll of hips against your ass, seeking out friction, craving release. But you have all morning.

You have time for the gentle slide of his fingers down the front waistband of your panties, the whine you release as his middle finger parts your center from entrance to clit, drawing out three slow circles that have you nearly begging him to fuck you right then and there. Still, he’s patient. Takes his time stroking against your center, listening as you coach him through what feels good, telling him to speed up, slow down. His other hand, not occupied with drawing out your pleasure, grips yours and slides it against the pillow nearest your head, a chuckle spilling from his lips when your head turns and you whimper into your pillow, asking him for what you need.

“What did you just say, sweetheart?” He murmurs against your bare shoulder, hissing when your hips push back into his hardened cock. “Tell me what you want.”

“Mmm—” He slides a finger inside you, drawing a slow circle, opening you around the digit before adding another. He repeats the question, low and sensuous in your ear, a purr that has your eyes pinching shut. “Want you inside me, Ed. Want you, want—”

Those fingers at your center slip from you, your chest heaving as he reaches over onto the nightstand nearest to his side of the bed and fishes out a blessed foil packet. You hear him hastily tear it open, the bed shifting and dipping in his efforts, before he’s pressing his chest back along your spine and hiking your thigh up and over his. The hand previously holding yours against the pillow above you slides back into your own, and your vision blurs out around the edges as he pushes your panties aside and drags himself through your folds from behind, catching on your clit, before slipping inside.

Your mingling hisses at the initial stretch of him turn into quiet moans as he starts to pick up his pace. He pastes sticky kiss after sticky kiss into your shoulder as that hand of his moves around to slide against your throat, shifting your head up and away from the pillow you’ve buried it within. Your eyes meet his, and between the constant roll of his hips as he moves within you, the fingers splaying across your neck, and the words he babbles into your lips about how tight you are, how good you feel, how you’re doing so good for him, it all quickly become too much.

He catches the flicker across your features, the way your sounds pick up in frequency, the rasp of your breath through your lungs. Against your lips he mutters, “Come on, sweetheart. Touch yourself for me, okay? Wanna watch you.”

And you’re quick to do as your told, palm sliding down your stomach until two fingers meet your clit, rubbing in the way you know you like, matching the frantic pace of Eddie’s hips, pulling back and then slamming into you again and again, driving you closer and closer to utter bliss.

“Oh—fuck—I’m so close, baby.” His fingers around your neck tighten, lips pressing against the corner of yours as you work yourself in tandem with him, the sound of skin slapping together muffling the cries spilling through your parted lips. “Tell me you’re close.”

You come before him, nails pressing down to etch crescents into the hand holding yours above your head, murmuring his name over and over again like a prayer as his lips claim yours once more and swallow the moan he lets out as his body jerks a few times and then stills behind you, shallow breaths puffing hot and frantic into your kiss.

When you both finally catch your breath, and you roll over and turn into him, he pulls you close to his chest and grins into your shoulder, asking, “What are you doing next weekend?”

And it’s that next weekend, at Jonathan and Nancy’s wedding, that you go as a real couple this time.

You don’t even give Max and Lucas shit for giving you a thumbs up when they think Eddie isn’t looking.

(protect myself from readmore)

#eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader smut #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fanficton #eddie munson fluff #luna’s words #lunas1kfollowercelebration🌙

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s-4pphics · 1 year

Note

omg i need smut for ballerina reader x tattoo artist ellie

pleaseeeee

hi hon i didn't forget ab u trust me trust me

…. but hi guys🤭 since i finished sotp and this at literally the same time why not post both.... teeeheee

wc;cw: 1.9k😳, MDNI, ellie and reader r both freaks! nasty little harlots, these two are!!, kinda exhibitionism bc car windows, weed, shotgunning(failed), mentions of daddy kink and breeding and face sitting, readers a bimbo but we knew that we love u bae :3, more monologues, cocky ellie, dirty talk, spanking, mult. orgasms and squirting, slight dumbification, titty and pussy slapping mmm, das it

… i wrote this while high soooo if there’s a typo no there’s not! bye yall :p

when ballerina!reader and tattooist!ellie fuck for the first time the world damn near melts from the inside out.

you had finally gotten into the passenger's seat of ellie’s busted up car after she wrapped up your brand-new tat. you asked her multiple times if she was going to kill you in some nearby forest after smoking you out, in which she replied with a sly maybe. it depends on how you act when it hits. her response shook you a bit: you had just scored the lead in the nutcracker and your costume was so pretty, you had to wear it at least once and then she could do whatever she wanted with you as long as she destroyed your guts beforehand! :)

your little tote bag was near your feet on the floor as you hummed along to the rap song blasting through her speakers, lightly bobbing your head. ellie’s—large and veiny and tattooed—hand had been sitting on your upper thigh for the entire ride as she drove in a relaxed position, head resting against the back of her seat. you caught glimpses of her out of the corner of your eye whenever she licked or bit her lips. her small habits made your thighs squeeze together, before she silently pried them back open with her free hand to rest it there again. you wanted her to make you cum so bad you’d pay her extra for it—

“this your place?” she rasped out in shock as she parked in front of your dance academy dorms. damn, she thought. you weren’t kidding, you’re not a stripper.

“uh huh! it’s even prettier inside! marble floors and everything, i love it here so much!” you said with an excited grin that made her smile lightly. such a cutie, she thought.

“huh,” she hummed in acknowledgment. she reached over your lap to pop open her glove box to retrieve the little ziplock baggie filled with green buds and grinder before your eyes widened in shock.

“oh are… um… are we smoking right here? like out in the open?”

“mhm.” she replied blankly before she smirked. “what, is your headmaster gonna come out and give you a spanking or something?”

you wanted her to spank you so bad—

“no! i’m just asking, i’ve never done it outside before!”

“oh yeah? you never done it outside?” she replied silkily while she packed the spoon of the pipe.

you shivered and she caught it and please fuck me right here! i don’t care who sees!—

“i never used one of those before, it’s pretty,” you nodded towards the packed bowl.

“thank you,” she said simply. “lemme show you how to do it.”

after some simple instructions that you haven't payed attention to because her hands were distracting you, you nodded absentmindedly. what the fuck was she talking about again—

“are you even listening?” she said with a raised eyebrow that had a fucking slit in it oh, ohhh you might die—

when you shook your head no, she snorted before she grabbed her lighter from your hand.

“here. watch me.”

you watched closely as she lit the crushed green buds in the bowl, finger over a little hole on the side of the pipe before she lit it and breathed in, exhaling the smoke in a circular little cloud in front of her mouth. she looked back at you with a little see? simple.

she’s so fucking sexy and you’re probably dripping all over her leather seats—

“show me again?” you squeaked out.

she only slightly nodded with a cunning grin as she looked at you before she repeated her previous actions and blew the smoke away from you, handing you the pipe again. you pushed it away from you gently.

“you’re gonna make me smoke all this by myself?”

“i want you to do it for me… like blow it… blow it in my mouth?” you said shyly. your mind was cloudy.

she didn’t say anything, but you could see the pleasant surprise on her face, releasing a light chuckle before she lit the bowl, yet again!, inhaling the smoke and holding it before she gripped for your cheeks with her slightly calloused hand, pulling you so close that your noses were touching. your mouth dropped open on instinct, and slowly exhaled the smoke into your mouth.

you could barely inhale due to the pounding in your head and your chest and your swollen fucking clit—

ellie hardly even cared about you wasting a rip that good. she slowly slipped her tongue into your already open mouth, making you whimper as you wrapped your lips around it, sucking it further into your mouth. she released a satisfied hum that rattled your throat. and speaking of your throat—

she released your cheeks, sliding her large hand down to wrap around it, squeezing the sides and gauging your reaction. you were about to call her daddy, holy fuck, you wanted her fuckin’ kids—

“c’mere.” and fuck, you jumped her bones so quick.

you were finally in her lap and you immediately started grinding on her leg like a cat in heat.

she hurriedly sat the pipe on her dashboard, her free hands quickly taken in yours, bringing them up to your tits as you felt her squeeze them, tossing your head back with a whine.

“yeah? feels fucking good?”

“yeah, yesyesyes—“

you weren’t even high and you were so close to cumming, you couldn’t imagine how crazy you’d be going if you smoked properly. you’d probably be creaming all over her seats and windows by now.

you grinded down harder on her, your clit bumping up against your lavender sweats and her jeans and toned leg and you couldn’t stop crying out and oh, you were gonna cum in your panties—

ellie must’ve sensed it because she dropped her hands from your tits to your hips, mindfully avoiding your freshly wrapped tattoo(she’s such a sweetie, isn’t she?), and pulled you down onto her leg as she lifted it up to press harder against your clit just right and you lost it.

all that tension that built over the last two hours crashed into you as you threw your head allll the back and came inside your sheer little panties. you bounced on her thigh as she held your hips to help you grind out your high. ellie slowly licked up your exposed throat to your chin to your bottom lip before she shoved her tongue into your mouth in a messy, wet kiss. fuck, you were so in love already—

“take these off, baby, c’mon, wanna see,” she said dazed against your mouth, tugging down the waistband of your bottoms. you clumsily rested your weight against her wheel as you leaned back, a loud honk! ringing through the dimly lit, empty lot. it made you both jump and laugh as she wrapped her arm around your back to move you away from it. she used the space between you to pull down your panties and sweats just enough to expose your sopping cunt. she looked like she wanted to tear you apart. she could rip you to shreds if she wanted you’d let her do anything to you—

she didn’t say anything as her thumb rubbed your clit, making you buck your hips up against her hang with a whine.

she dipped two fingers down to your slit that was practically dripping all over her seats, and she hates herself for not bringing her dick with her because, fuuuuck, she would’ve slipped right in—

you felt her fingers push inside with little resistance, her car immediately being filled with both your groans and wet noises of your cunt. your walls squeezed the shit out of her fingers to pull them in closer.

you were a mess: at some point you’d removed your sweatshirt and tee, your tits out, and she was watching you play them, entranced, until you slipped a hand down to where she was inside you, grabbing her wrist to pull out and brought her slicked up fingers to your nipples, rubbing your wetness into your stiff peaks. ellie let out a quiet groan of shiiiit! before she slapped them both, bringing her head forward to suck the wetness from your tits, moaning at the taste of you.

she dropped her hand back down to slip her fingers inside your cunt again, wiggling them around until she pressed up against that one spot that made you see god—

“yeah? right there, baby? like that?”

“ye—aaAhh, el, oh my fuckin’ god your gonna make me cum again!—“

“fuckin’ want it, nasty fucking slut, give it to me, wan’ it all over me.”

your eyes were rolled into your skull, yes im your slut i’m your slut! being the only thing on your mind. your legs were trembling and you were so. fucking. wet. and you couldn’t fucking think about anything other than her her her—

“cum on my fingers so i can take you upstairs and stick my tongue inside you.”

and you died. you’re dead now. you screamed her name out into the car as you squirted all over her arm and jeans and seats and you just kept fucking cumming and ellie swore that she was going to marry you one day!—

you finally started to come down after she slapped your pussy a couple times. your orgasm had felt like it lasted minutes and you almost plopped onto the car floor in exhaustion, but ellie caught you before you could, pulling you back to her chest to connect her mouth with yours in a heavy kiss.

she grabbed your ass in both hands before bringing her hand down in a loud slap! as you moaned in her mouth, and it made her hit you again, harder.

she allowed you to pull back to regain your composure before you said with a pout, “i have to be up at five tomorrow.” it was almost midnight.

she laughed loudly before bringing your panties and pants back up around your waist before helping you put your shirt on before easing you back into the passenger's seat. you missed her warmth already. you grabbed your tote off the floor after carefully placing the discarded pipe and lighter into a small pocket with a soft c’mon before you opened the door to get out. ellie rolled the window down so she could respond.

“wait. you want me to come inside?”

“inside me? yeah.”

she let out a choked laugh before she said, “you’re nasty as fuck, jesus christ.”

“i sure am! now come sit on my face? my roomie’s sleeping so you might have to stick my panties in your mouth just in case!” you said with the brightest grin. “you can wake up me up for rehearsals with your tongue in my pussy, too, if you want!”

oh my fucking god? ellie thought, her eyes glossing over with a hazy look on her face. yeah. i’m making her a fucking housewife.

#ballerina!reader #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams smut #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams #ellie x reader #black!oc #black!reader #lesbian #works 𖧧࣪#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x black!reader #amitycat #tattooist!ellie ✎ ᝰ

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seresinhangmanjake · 8 months

Text

I've Promised You Forever

Dad!Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female reader

Summary: Jake and his Honey are married!

Notes/Warnings: None, really.

Words: 2454

Oh, Baby Series

---

“You’re less nervous than I expected,” Rooster said, his eyes meeting Jake’s in the mirror as they adjusted their bowties in sync.

They’d been up for hours, the whole house alive and bustling as people put things in place. Phoenix, his mother, and Gram stayed by your side, but the rest of his team set about accomplishing their own tasks. Coyote was on decorations. Payback on flowers. Fanboy on the cake—probably not the best of ideas if they wanted it arriving without a bite taken out of the side. Bob had Eve. And Rooster, with the exception of occasionally checking on the others, had remained with Jake.

“Am I?” Jake asked, but in truth his friend was right. He wasn’t nervous. From all that led up to this day, he found no reason to be.

“For this being the day you marry the love of your life? Yes, I would say you’re surprisingly calm.” Done with his tie, Rooster turned to eye the side of his friend’s face. “I mean, I know this is literally happening in your own backyard, but it’s still a big deal.”

Jake finished messing with the bow and his hand landed on Rooster’s shoulder, giving it a few pats. “Of course it’s a big deal. I’m not denying that.”

“Ok, then why—”

“How is she doing?”

Rooster paused at the sudden shift, but adaptable as he was, he adjusted quickly to the randomly tossed question. He thought over his answer, then his brow lightly pinched, his head tilted to the side, and he said, “Actually…no more nervous than you.” He shook the confusion off his face. “I don’t get it. I’d be freaking out right now, but I guess I’ll chalk it up to you two already facing such a hefty amount of trials and tribulations together that you’re numb to nerves.”

Jake chuckled. That hefty amount was no joke. Nothing about you and Jake managed to edge along the conventional route. Not how you became a family. Not how you developed as a couple. Not how you chose to marry. Your relationship was forced through more than most, and at the end of the day, it was being one another’s rock in a sea of utter chaos that made it all survivable.

More challenges would find their way to his family, Jake knew. No one was immune. But come hell or high water, you and Jake proved to be unbreakable, and that wasn’t going to change.

“She looks incredible, though,” Rooster continued. “You’re going to lose your mind.”

—

“How do you feel? Are you nervous? Can you believe you’re finally going to be married?” All questions shot from Jake's mother as she straightened out the veil attached to your loose bun. “It feels so different being a wife. But I know you’re the best possible woman for my son.”

You turned your head to meet her eyes and you smiled. “Thank you, Eliza.”

She rounded you and took your hand in hers, lightly squeezing. “I know you and Jake have had a rather unique journey, but if anything, I believe that proves how much you are meant to be together.”

You grinned and nodded in agreement. Unique was right. In every way. From the moment you met, you knew your path together would not be straight. It would have its twists and its turns, as it eventually did. But that jagged road the two of you had wobbled along trained you and Jake to accept being different. And in being different, you were more than happy to throw out rules and expectations, instead choosing to do exactly as you wanted whenever you wanted to do it.

That habit was demonstrated perfectly the night prior when Jake snuck back home despite his mother’s and friends’ insistence on not seeing his bride before the wedding. He’d waited until his team fell asleep at Rooster's, then drove back to his house, kissed his daughter’s forehead, and snuggled up to you in bed, not caring about the scolding once his absence would be discovered come morning; a scolding that came in the form of his Gram's small hand smacking into his shoulder.

A sudden knock at the door was followed by the peeking of Nat’s head into the room. “You ready?” she asked. “Rooster is about to go down the aisle with Eve.”

You grinned at the thought of the job you’d assigned your friend, which he’d accepted with an unexpected excitement. And thankfully you’d enlisted Payback as photographer so you’d get to see for yourself the six-foot tall wall of a man holding an infant and a basket of flower petals in his arms as he made his way towards Jake.

And then it would be your turn.

"Ready," you confirmed.

—

Under any other circumstances, Jake would’ve chuckled. He would’ve taken the opportunity to tease his friend the way his friends so often teased him. But as he watched Rooster carry his baby girl down the aisle, doing his best to hold her close and help her drop light pink petals along the pathway, Jake couldn’t help but smile.

Eve was content in his arms. She was peaceful, as if she knew it was a joyful day over anything else. She hadn’t cried without Mama and Daddy, Bob informed him. She didn’t fuss when made to put on her white tulle dress or slide the headband into her wispy hair. So when she reached the end of the aisle, in appreciation Jake bent down to place a kiss on her forehead before Rooster took his position to the left of his shoulder.

“Deep breath,” Rooster muttered as everyone in their seats stood and turned.

His mother’s arm was linked with yours while she guided you past your friends toward him. The smile you displayed was ear to ear. Bright. Vibrant. But his mother’s took up nearly half of her face; wide with lips pulled back so far the corners caught her tears before they could reach her chin.

She’d thanked him a million times the week before. Despite becoming so prominent in Jake’s life, she had the lingering sense that at any moment, he would cut her out again. She felt it an honor to be at her son’s wedding, to walk the woman he loved down the aisle and hand her over so he could call his little family complete. Though, rings on fingers and vows from lips were not a symbol of completion, not for him. He’d been complete from the moment you came back into his life with his baby girl strapped to your chest.

Jake’s eyes remained locked on you as you neared. Each of your steps came with a matching thump of his heart. He’d never tire of seeing you come to him; the anticipation of having you close and holding you in his arms, even when simply being greeted after a long day at work. Still, this was a bit more—an acknowledgment in front of everyone he loved that he could officially call you ‘wife’ whenever and wherever he wanted—and he pressed his heels into the ground to keep from bouncing on his toes.

Once you were close enough that he could catch your flowered perfume, Jake took your hand from his mother and raised it to his lips to brush a soft kiss over the back. “Hi, Honey," he whispered, intertwining your fingers. You gave your bouquet over to Phoenix then took his other hand, mirroring the weaving of fingers.

A subtle pink tinted your cheeks. “Hi."

“Alright,” Gram clasped her palms together. “You kids ready to be married?"

Your teasing smile sent a zing down Jake’s spine and he returned it with a wink.

"I'll take that as a yes," she said, then called to the small crowd, "You can all be seated and we'll get this show on the road."

His ears felt full of fuzz as his grandmother began to speak her practiced lines; the ones she’d run over with him a hundred times to make sure they suited his wishes, despite him telling her just as many times that whatever she would say would be perfect. Jake knew he’d be solely focused on you anyway, taking away from his ability to fully absorb her words.

Her voice was a consistent humming in his ear, and not until she lightly nudged him in the arm did he snap out of the glowy haze you’d surrounded him in to realize it was his cue.

“Right,” he said, clearing his throat. When you giggled his lips curved upwards. “Honey…” he started but then paused to stare again, just for another moment. At how amazing you were. At how beautiful, wrapped in a dress that hugged every dip and swell of your figure, with the soft style of your hair, and the red shade painting your lips. He was already imagining the marks of your kiss all over his body.

Then sensing the flush of his skin and the sting of oncoming tears, he swallowed to try to hold himself together. His fingers squeezed yours tighter.

“Honey, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it forever,” he began. “I love you. I love everything you are. Everything we are. I love the work and the struggles and the progress we’ve made to have what we have. I love our baby girl.” A tear slipped down your cheek that Jake reached up to brush away with his thumb before taking your hand again. “The two of you are my gift. My world and my heart. You own a piece of me that I never want you to give back,” he continued. “And I wake each morning thankful that you were so strong when having our Eve. I thank you for being so brave when you chose to come back into my life," he said. "You’re everything and all of it, Honey.”

Your thumb stroked over his, then you pulled his hand closer to press a kiss to the digit. “Jake,” you sniffled. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it forever.” He snickered at the familiar line before allowing a smile that matched yours to take over his face. “We were never a mistake. We weren’t a matter of convenience or simplicity. We weren’t a shot in the dark,” you said. “I believe that someway, somehow, this is where we would have inevitably found ourselves. Standing here, with our baby beside us, husband and wife. This is how it was always meant to be. And I know that in my soul.

"I love you," was a clear statement from your lips. "You are mine, Jake Seresin. You’re everything and all of it.”

Your radiating love filled him fully and he settled comfortably into the warmth that spread through his veins. Then he heard another sniffle, just to his right.

“Goodness,” Gram breathed as she wiped at a fallen tear. “You two…” She shook her head; took another breath. “Rings?”

Bob reached around Rooster to hand your ring to Jake as Phoenix slipped his into your palm. The exchange of bands rebloomed the flutters in his stomach. Then before Gram could get out her next instruction, Jake framed your face with his hands and joined your lips in a long kiss.

“I love you, Honey,” he muttered between one soft kiss and the next. “Always.”

—

The evening had passed in the blink of an eye, but you didn’t miss a single detail of how the day unfolded. Each bit of it utterly perfect. Each moment more precious than the last. You couldn’t say you woke that morning with any expectations other than to enjoy your friends and family, but now that it was nearing its close, you realized everything far surpassed what you could’ve ever hoped for. A wedding had the potential to bring some chaos, as did most things during your and Jake’s relationship, but it was nothing other than smooth and easy. Everyone you cared for was by your side. Your daughter was happy in the company of those who loved her most. And you and Jake were together. All as should be.

Under the low glow of the fairy lights woven through the trees, you and Jake swayed to the gentle music. With your head resting on his shoulder, your arms around one another, you watched your friends and family enjoying themselves. Laughing, joking, teasing each other. They took turns dancing with your daughter in their arms, dancing with each other, or their dates. Rooster’s in particular–your friend and coworker—had her eyes glued to him and a blush across her cheeks as he rocked Eve back and forth while slowly moving about the installed dance floor.

"You still feel alright with not telling them?" Jake’s voice was suddenly low in your ear, far from able to be heard by your guests with you being off to the edge of the wooden flooring.

"That we've been married for months?” you asked. “Yes, I imagine it's still best we keep that to ourselves."

“I agree,” Jake said with a chuckle. "Think of the drama we'd face from our devastating betrayal."

"I know. I can't believe how selfish we are."

He hummed. “You know, if you really think about it, by not telling them we are actually sparing them the pain and trauma.”

"That’s very true."

Jake chuckled again, a vibration from his chest to yours, and hugged you closer. A moment later you lifted your head to meet his eyes and smiled at your husband. The man who had been your husband for one hundred and twenty-six days, officially tied exactly three days after he slid that engagement ring onto your finger. You’d planned on waiting, but not seventy-two hours later, as you laid beside one another in bed, skin still damp with sweat and chests rising and falling in heavy breaths, Jake suddenly flipped on his side, cupped your cheek, and said: ‘What if we do it tomorrow?’. The rapid expelling of the question made you realize he had been thinking about it as much as you had. You’d instantly agreed, smiled, kissed, and spent the rest of the night wrapped around one another. The next morning you were married, and maintained the agreement that no one else needed to know. The two of you would know. And that was enough.

"No,” you reaffirmed, brushing a stray lock of his blond hair back into place. “I think I like having our little secret."

Jake paused the movement of your bodies and, with a grin, said, "So do I, Honey." Then he placed his hands on your cheeks, just as he had earlier in the day, and once again drew you in for a kiss.

---

A/N: I hope it was ok :)

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @cinderellasmissingshoe @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @novagreen04 @multifandomlover4life @mayhemmanaged @memeorydotcom @ryiamarie

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic #top gun #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #tgm #tgm fic #tgm hangman #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin fanfic #dad!jake seresin #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin series #jake seresin imagine

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turtletaubwrites · 2 months

Text

Sweet Abduction ~ Part 3 ~ End

I absolutely adored this request, and you can click here for Part 1 and Part 2. I was nervous about trying my hand at some smut with this lovely 16.5 ft (509 cm) tall man, but y'all overwhelmingly voted for a smutty ending, so I did my best. I hope you enjoy this sweet conclusion! 💜🍩

Pairings: Katakuri x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3781

Ao3 Link

Summary: You and your new husband get to know each other, and what makes the other feel good. Maybe this abduction was a miracle after all.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Light Angst, Grief, (reader's dad has passed and she thinks about him a lot), Arranged Marriage, Forced Marriage, Vaginal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Spit, Comeplay, Size Kink, Human/Monster Romance, He's freaking 16 ft tall, Reader is too sweet for this world

A/N: I love these two so much, they deserve all the sweetness in the world! 🥰

Every slow, steady step of the man who carried you sent your heart beating faster.

Your husband held you against his massive chest, the moment you were waiting for fast approaching. Your lungs didn’t quite know what to do now that it was so close.

“Do you have a map? I think I’ll get lost in here on my own.”

Katakuri’s soft chuckle felt so soothing through his warm skin.

“I’ll have one drawn up for you. There’s also some vehicles that you can use to traverse it quickly, and tomorrow the staff will return, so you can always ask for their assistance.”

“Staff,” you chirped, once again feeling out of place.

“Yes. I dismissed them for the evening so that we… I thought we should be alone on our wedding night.”

He couldn’t see your shy smile as you bit your lip, but you were sure he felt the bob of your head as you tapped it against his chest.

“Here we are,” he announced, opening a door made for someone his size.

“How do I open the door?”

Katakuri apologized, clearing his throat as he set you down. You had never met anyone so calm and polite, and you had no idea why it should make your skin flush the way it does.

Beside the door he’d opened was one your size, and you bit the inside of your lip to hold in laughter.

It’s like a pet door.

The image of your door, so tiny next to his, reminded you of those little doors for dogs and cats.

It didn’t seem right to make that sort of comment on your wedding night when you didn’t know how he’d react, so you bounced on your toes, trying to think of anything else.

He led you inside an immense suite that hardly seemed different than all the walkways and rooms you’d already passed.

Except for a corner of the room that had been decorated as an extravagant bedroom for you, your furniture looking adorable amidst all the space.

“Where’s your bed?”

Reaching to touch his knee as you surveyed the room, the only furniture you saw of his size was a desk and chair.

“I never lay on my back.”

“Katakuri,” you hissed, poking his leg, “Please tell me we don’t have to keep up the lie in our own bedroom?”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said softly, kneeling to see you closer, “the staff enter this room occasionally, and I can’t risk it.”

A pout formed on your face from the disappointment, but he only smiled, bringing his finger to his lips as if shushing you.

That finger stretched, and your eyes went wide as the tip of it formed into a key.

He stood against a blank wall and pressed a brick as if it were a button. The wall slid away to reveal a large door, which he unlocked with that mochi key, offering his hand to carry you inside.

“This secret really is precious to you,” you giggled, listening to the wall slide back into place after he locked you in with him.

“It is.”

Your laughter halted as he set you down on the edge of the bed.

“Don’t worry,” you promised, gripping the soft blankets as he sat on the floor in front of you. “You’re my family now. I’ll protect your secret.”

“I know,” he said, the trust in his deep voice making you smile.

The small smile on his wide lips brought that fluttery feeling back, and you dangled your feet off the side of the bed. The bed was only a little taller than you were, so hopping onto it yourself would be like jumping a fence.

Falling off of it in the dark would still hurt.

Meeting his crimson eyes, your skin flushed again as you realized how distracted your mind was. How nervous you were. How he sat so patiently, his silence always peaceful instead of awkward.

“Y/N, we don’t ha–”

“Katakuri, can you–”

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat as you gave a small laugh, “you go first.”

Your voice came out high as you tried not to squirm.

“Can you kiss me again?”

This time his silence held more than peace. His brows tensed just slightly, looking at you as if he didn’t understand.

But he came to you.

One of those strong, warm hands stroked your hair, pressing lightly against your back. As he moved in, you couldn’t believe how a man so sweet could have such sharp and dangerous teeth.

I know he won’t hurt me.

The thought made you sigh with contentment, and you pressed your lips against his larger ones, minding the tusk-like fangs on either side.

“Wait,” you breathed against him before pulling yourself up to kneel on the bed.

Those eyes were even more gorgeous up close, and you smiled at him before tracing your fingers along his jaw.

The way he’d reacted when you kissed his neck earlier made you want to kiss him more, so you did.

His hand on your back tensed when you laid your lips along his scars, but you whispered ‘wait,’ and he let you keep going. Keep touching and kissing his beautiful face until you heard, and felt, a satisfied hum move through him.

“This feels good?”

“It does. What feels good for you?”

Shyness hit you again, and you bought time by taking off your shoes and tossing them as far as you could, bringing what seemed to be another rare smile to those wide lips.

You hoped that smile wouldn’t be rare with you.

“I like when you touch me,” you started, fighting to keep eye contact as the hand at your back moved softly against your hair and shoulders. “I like when you hold me. I like feeling you.”

“Will you tell me if you don’t like something, or want to stop?”

“Of course,” you agreed, grabbing his wrist, “will you keep telling me what you like?”

“Let’s agree to do both,” he said, both of you nodding as he pulled his hand away.

“If you’re comfortable, Y/N,” he started, his deep eyes pouring over you, “I would love to see you. All of you.”

“Oh.”

Blood rushed to your face, your cheeks, the tips of your ears, but you climbed away from the edge to stand on the bed.

After a moment of struggle, you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think I can take it off myself,” you gasped with laughter, turning to show him the complicated lacing that a team of servants had done up for you.

“May I help,” he chuckled softly, bringing his fingers to your wedding dress when you agreed.

Just those fingers running along your spine, pulling and tugging at your dress, was enough, bringing more delightful chills across your skin.

“Hmm…”

“What,” you asked, voice breathy.

“Would you be opposed to me tearing the lacing open? I don’t believe I can untie this without harming you or the dress.”

“I don’t mind! I didn’t even pick it out,” you laughed.

“I’m sorry–”

“Oh, don’t be sorry, Katakuri. I’m happy we’re here together now,” you turned to smile at his guilt ridden face. “Please get this thing off of me, husband.”

Seeing guilt replaced with satisfaction at your words made you want to keep doing that. Keep making your sweet, frightening partner look happy.

“Will you trust me?”

You agreed, then followed as he guided you into his hand, leaning over to bare your back to him.

“Please stay still, Y/N.”

A breath held in your body as he brought you close to his face. He never touched your skin, but you felt the laces snap and loosen, and knew he’d cut them with his teeth.

So sharp.

He set you on your feet, and you held your dress up as the back fell. Katakuri opened and closed his mouth, and you realized that you could both talk awkwardly through the whole night if one of you didn’t push through.

You let that heavy, decadent fabric fall down your skin, giggling a little as you had to shimmy it down your hips. You hopped out of the circle of fabric, and tried not to cover yourself with your as you stood in lingerie.

What do I do with my hands?

Katakuri’s eyes were so intense, as if you could feel them on you. Instead of squirming, you surprised yourself, stripping the lingerie until nothing but skin remained.

He took a deep breath, and sighed, tilting his head toward you.

“You are gorgeous, Y/N. I thought so the moment we met.”

“Same to you,” you teased, deciding to sit back down to fight off the urge to hide.

He removed his white boots and vest while you watched. You bit your lip not to laugh at how cute it was that he’d kept his frightening spikes and buckles, and just made everything white. Sitting in front of you again, his smile seemed stronger, as if he was starting to believe it was alright to show it.

“I would like to make you feel good. Can I try?”

“Yes, please,” you breathed, hands shaking with nerves as Katakuri bunched up the blanket behind you like a pillow. He leaned over you, that soft press of lips against yours before he hovered over your chest, eyes darker now.

“Please tell me if this is alright,” he checked in, humming quietly as you nodded.

The touch of his breath on your skin was already amazing, breathing over your chest, your stomach, your legs. His hands brought a gasp to your throat, arching your back as he traced fingers all over you, until your skin was tingling.

“That feels so good.”

Your praise was like an invitation, and soon those large fingers were massaging your breasts. He was so so gentle as he teased your nipples, and you heard his soft intake of breath when you cried out.

Those fingers trailed down to your thighs, spreading them softly.

“Is it al–”

“Please touch me, Katakuri,” you begged, spreading your legs further for him.

All the deep, pleased noises he had let out as you reacted to him made your eyes roll back, and the feather light touch of one of his fingers through your folds was almost overwhelming.

“Y/N…”

His pause brought your eyes to him, and you felt your body clench with need as you watched him lick the taste of you off his finger.

“You’re so wet, so sweet... Is this all for me,” he asked softly, bringing his finger back to slide along all that wetness, finding your clit to circle gently.

His words hit you like a tease, but somehow you knew he was genuinely asking.

“Yes, Katakuri,” you managed to confess while his finger made you twitch. “You make me feel so good. I want you.”

His mouth parted as he watched you writhe for him. You fought to keep your eyes on his, wanting him to see it, to believe it.

His jaw loosened just a bit, his eyes growing even darker as he circled that finger around your entrance.

That finger was at least the width of two of a man your size, and it was so long. He tested you, pressing in softly, smiling at your nod before plunging it inside of you.

Slowly thrusting, he brought his other hand to your face, rubbing his thumb along your cheek.

“I can’t believe how lucky–”

He cut himself off with a groan as you turned your head to take that large thumb into your mouth. You sucked and bit at him, swirling your tongue around his thumb as you watched those hungry eyes.

He curled the finger inside you, hitting that sweet spot until you were moaning around his thumb.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he rasped as he drew that thumb out of your mouth, trailing spit down your chin. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”

Katakuri kept his promise, bringing that spit covered thumb to your clit. Already so close, you moaned as he teased another finger, testing, pressing gently until you nodded, now plunging two of those large fingers in to stretch you.

“Please, please, please.”

“Are you okay–”

“Yes, please please,” you panted as his fingers started working in you.

“Mm, does my lovely girl want to come? Do it for me, sweetheart. Come for me.”

“Katakuri!”

Your hands fisted into the blanket, back arching as you moaned, screamed for him. For your sweet, scary husband whose fingers stretched and fucked you, curling up again and again, his large thumb rubbing perfectly over and around your clit.

It felt like an explosion, your mind going blank for everything except for raging pleasure, your body thrashing on that huge bed.

When your awareness came back, you were still twitching from aftershocks as he chuckled, smoothing those hands along your skin again.

“Kata… kuri… that felt amazing.”

“I’m so glad,” he sighed, tracing fingers through your hair. “Do you need anything?”

He helped as you struggled to sit up, your breathing still ragged as you grinned up at him.

“I want to make you feel good, please.”

“I…”

“Can I try?”

His own breath was heavy after what he’d done to you, and that made you want to give him more.

You chewed on your lip as he stood, removing those white pants with all their buckles and straps.

“It’s okay, we don–”

Katakuri started to turn away when he saw your jaw drop, but you coughed, your voice coming out high and breathy.

“Will you lie down with me?”

He climbed into bed, propping up on a pile of pillows the size of couch cushions.

“Tell me if this is alright,” you whispered as you crawled onto his chest.

Smiling at his nod, you laid against him to kiss his neck as you’d done earlier, enjoying the rush of the chills that ran over his skin.

“I like that,” he rasped, sighing as you left a trail of kisses along the crook of his neck. You teased a small bite, waiting for his response after he twitched slightly.

“I like that too, Y/N.”

Feeling his body react to your touch like this was delicious, growing that heat in your core, that desire for him.

Nibbling his earlobe was a dangerous task, but worth it, as this massive warrior squirmed under your touch.

“N-No more,” he pleaded, gently moving you away from his ear to sit on his chest.

“Did it feel good?”

“It did,” he admitted after a pause.

You answered by laying kisses and soft touches down his chest.

He must not get a lot of touch in his lonely life, you thought as you enjoyed his reactions.

I’m going to change that.

You worshiped his gorgeous body as he’d worshiped yours. Kissing and nibbling down his skin, you traced his muscles and tattoos with your fingers while his breathing and gentle moans were like the sweetest of songs.

Until you worked your way down, and sat beside the gorgeous, throbbing length of him.

The fact that he was larger than anyone you’d ever seen wasn’t a surprise. The girth alone was intense, but even though his length was intimidating, you tilted your head at it.

Maybe it’s possible?

You realized you’d been thinking about it almost scientifically, and looked up at his face, a hint of concern on it.

“Y/N, I don’t need or expect that, there are ple–”

“I won’t lie, Katakuri, you are very intimidating,” you teased, regretting the choice of words immediately as his face started to fall. You gripped onto his hip to bring his eyes back to you.

“But I would love to try that with you. I think we might be able to. Just maybe not tonight.”

“No,” he agreed, his face soft again as he stroked your hair. “I don’t want to hurt you. I only want you to feel good tonight.

“Well, you’re doing a great job so far,” you laughed, poking his side.

“So are you, little wife.”

The heat in his voice, along with those words, made your skin flush all over again, somehow feeling shy after everything you’d already done.

“I like when you make this face,” he chuckled, touching your cheek.

“Stop,” you squirmed, hiding behind your hands.

“Please, don’t hide that pretty face from me.”

His deep voice vibrated through his body, so you could feel his request through your legs as you sat on him, making you shiver more. But you listened, looking up at your gorgeous husband.

“Perfect,” he whispered, tracing from your temple to your jaw as your lips parted.

“Can I,” you choked out, clearing your throat before trying again, “can I make you feel good now?”

Seeing those scarred lips curve around those sharp teeth would probably scare most, but you already loved seeing it. It sent warmth right through you before you brought your attention to that needy length of his.

He had softened a bit as you talked, but you could see the drip of precum that had trailed down, rolling along thick veins that made you bite your lip.

It twitched before you touched it, already getting hard as his sharp eyes watched your every move.

Your fingers reached out to tease, just as you’d done across his body, tracing from the base to the tip, eliciting a little twitch from the crimson haired man beneath you.

Trying not to laugh, you realized you might get bucked off if Katakuri twitched too hard.

Pushing your thoughts away, you focused on the thick flesh in front of you, and the hungry eyes devouring you.

You had to taste him. Had to.

With your tongue flattened against him, you licked along those gorgeous veins, licked up that trail of precum, flicking your tongue across the slit of his tip, before kissing it, tongue swirling as you met his eyes again.

His wide mouth was open, sharp teeth parted as he breathed heavily, and you saw his large hands fisted in his sheets.

“Does that fee–”

“Don’t stop,” he begged, his voice strained as you’d pulled your mouth away. “Fuck, Y/N, please don’t stop.”

You answered with your tongue, licking and teasing around him, bringing your hands to his throbbing cock that tasted soo good.

One hand couldn’t fit around his girth, so you used both to slowly stroke up and down while you wrapped your lips around his tip.

His head tilted back as he moaned, your new favorite sound.

“Just like that, so good…”

Spit dripped down his length as you gave him as much as you could. The feel of him, the sounds he made, it had your own body twisting, clenching with need. You found yourself moaning and rocking your body back and forth as you touched him.

“Y/N, is that… Are you dripping on me?”

His husky voice made you pause, until his fingers slid between your thighs.

“Fuuckk,” he cried out as you moaned, his fingers coming away dripping with slick.

“You like my cock– fuck… this much, honey?”

“Yes, Katakuri,” you whined, your body feeling desperate as you kept stroking him.

“You’re doing so well, little wife. Grind that sweet pussy right here for me,” he gestured, bringing his fist up beside you.

With shaky limbs, you sat on the back of his hand, finding the perfect friction for you to grind on while you went back to your task.

The relief made you moan around him, and you opened wider to take as much of his thick cock into your mouth as you could handle.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Sweet mouth feels so good.”

Every delicious word of praise that dripped from those lips was like fuel to the fire in your blood. You rocked against his hand, drenching his skin as your clit got that perfect pressure.

Your eyes rolled back as you felt that thick cock starting to twitch.

“Wait,” he choked out, his free hand moving to pull himself out of your mouth.

But you whined, clinging to his cock as you hit your orgasm, grinding on his skin as he started to moan your name.

The feeling of those veins throbbing and pulsing was incredible. He came spilling into your mouth as your lips were wrapped around his tip. You tried to swallow it all, but it was so much.

You let it spill down the sides, using it to slide your hands along him a few more times as he let out deep, glorious moans.

Out of breath, both of you twitched and gasped until you could speak again.

“You made a mess,” you teased, gesturing to his come as it dripped from your chin to your stomach.

He let out a surprised laugh, and you gasped as he pulled his hand out from under you.

“So did you,” he rasped, making your eyes roll back as he licked your wetness off of the back of his hand.

“How do you feel?”

His gentle words seemed so much more open, less full of worry, and you loved it.

“I feel amazing, husband.”

“Mm, so do I, little wife.”

You scrunched your nose at the pet name, feeling like you should argue. But you liked it.

I like him.

You smiled to yourself as you watched him leave, going to clean up.

“What’s wrong,” he asked as he returned, that worry back in his voice as he handed you a damp towel.

“Hm? Oh, I’m sorry!”

Tears had pooled in the corners of your eyes, and you wiped them away with a laugh.

“I’m just happy, Katakuri. It’s crazy how this all happened. But I’m really happy to be here with you now.”

This sweet man’s face softened, making you believe your own words even more. You cleaned yourself off, and let him lift you up as he crawled into bed.

Katakuri laid on his back for you. He let you lie on his chest, the deep rhythm of his heart pulsing through you, sending your relaxed body to sleep.

But not before his gentle fingers stroked your hair, trailing down your back as you melted, the memory of your dad’s voice coming to wish you goodnight.

‘Don’t fight miracles, sweetheart. Sometimes good people really do get good things.’

You were right, dad. I won’t be alone anymore.

Katakuri’s deep voice rolled over you, proving it.

“I’m happy too, Y/N. I’m happy you’re my family now.”

You drifted off with his warm skin on yours, and had the sweetest dreams you’d ever had.

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Thank you for joining me on this super fluffy adventure! It's definitely the sweetest thing I've ever written, and I hope you you enjoyed it! 🍩💖

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel

#katakuri x reader #katakuri smut #charlotte katakuri x reader #one piece x reader #reader insert #fem!reader #fic requests #x reader #turtletaub fics #charlotte katakuri #one piece fics #one piece fanfiction #smut #use of y/n #one piece smut

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cutielights · 2 months

Note

Hey pookie!! I luv ur work sm and I was wondering if u could do a rottmnt boys x spider woman reader ab them reacting to her stopping a collider like miles did? Idek if u watched into the spider verse but maybe something like that if not u could wing it if you'd like tysm hope u have a good day/night! ❤️

>>:] yes. For the purposes of writing, im going to act as if you were a spider person for at least a year before this. Not supposed to be Miles’ story, but pretty similar (if that makes sense)

i waNT THE THIRD MOVIE. Frikin dying of miles morales deprivation over here, hand over the sunflower boy with in tact parents

@moonchhu THE OTHER SPIDER PERSON ONE TAG LIST

That Really Big Earthquake

LEO

“Heyyyy, I haven’t seen you in twenty four hours which truly is a record for us, I missed you, did you miss me? I bet you did right? Go on tell me aaaalllll about it.”

“So, I was just kinda minding my own business, y’know, thwipping and thwapping and going about being an awesome hero when I bumped into myself? Kinda. They looked like me, but they were different, and didn’t look like me, but, I knew they were me! Because my spider sense went off and they could do stuff I could do, but also some different stuff! And then we freaked out for a little bit before I went to auntie May to show her and she showed me four more other me’s who were hiding out in her basement and then we tried getting them home and we had to sneak about in this fancy restaurant wearing bow ties, and we cried and they went into this collider thing, also it turns out my favourite cousin was working for the evil genius corporation and he’s dead now and it feels like my fault, I’m so totally fine don’t worry about me. Howwasyourday?”

“Haha, what.”

“Stopped the collapsing of the multiverse.”

“Oh it sounds so simple when you put it like that.” Yeah okay sarcasm queen

Made you some tea after that, let’s just, take a breath for a minute, m’kay?

He has decided it’s a self care day now, at least he did after thoroughly checking you for injuries

How you do not have a concussion will always escape him, not one broken bone? Seriously? After all that?

Please remind him you’re an actual super hero and not a pane of glass

“Wait what was that about your cousin?”

RAPH

“Hey! How was your weekend?”

“Crazier than yours.”

“Okay, Bet.”

One explanation later sponge bob narrator voice

“Wait, so you’re telling Raph, that huge earthquake that happened, happened because of you and five alternate versions of yourself?

“That’s excluding a lot of things I just told you but, I am telling Raph that, yes.”

Huge bone crushing hugs are in order, according to him at least. And I mean, is he wrong?

Not letting you out of his sight for ages, please, Raph, let them go home

“Why are you so worried? I did it, I won!”

“It’s more the fact that it happened and less the fact that you’re mostly fine.”

DONNIE

Othello Von Ryan: Stay home, S.H.E.L.LD.O.N has picked up on some strange (possibly universal fabric destroying) activity. Also there has been some earthquake activity in the area you were in yesterday, not that I have a tracker on you. Because I don’t.

Only Two Legs: I handled it don’t worry :D

Othello Von Ryan: ?

Othello Von Ryan: Traverse to My Lab.

“Heyyy Deee.”

“Stop. Explain. This better be your attempt at humor.”

There was silence for a long while after you had messily glued together words to describe the past 24 hours, before he took a deep breath.

“First, How dare you stop the multiverse from collapsing without me that’s incredible rude. Second, therapy. Third, that earthquake and power surge destroyed My Lab, thankfully I have backup backups to my backups, but I couldn’t use the internet for an hour straight.”

“Y- You’re more concerned about the internet?”

“Not what I said. Now let me check you for a concussion.”

MIKEY

“Hey they took down those art displays.”

“The what?”

“Oh you weren’t here, BUT there was these reaaaallllyyyyy cool art statues along this street! Look, hey, look, I took pics!”

“Oh cooollluuuhhh that’s not an art display that’s five different fire hydrants merged into each other.”

“Haha yeah it does kinda look like that doesn’t it? I thought it was supposed to be a dog.”

“Mikey, no-“ You pulled him aside into an empty alleyway, trying to explain what had happened over the past twenty four hours.

It was an interesting experience, but you got there eventually.

Best believe this boy is giving you the biggest hug ever, and then buying pizza.

Oh, and Dr Feelings is going to be paying you a visit. Multiple. You can’t escape him.

“So they weren’t art displays?”

Speedily bulk writing and scheduling rn bc im going on a holiday with zero internet.

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watchtowerindistress · 18 days

Text

for the love of ... bob? - jake seresin x reader (2/2)

Summary: Being Jake's (best) friend - sorry, Javy - proved to have its ups and downs but there was something about having him in your corner you couldn't resist. Jake and you just clicked on a deeper level. That's why you didn't get it when the Southern boy was acting so weird.

Word count: 6.9k

Warnings: Jealous! + Soft!Jake, fluff, language, kinda angsty, kinda mean!Jake

Author’s note: I haven't seen Anyone but You (I just get the icky when I see two blondes on screen), so I took Glen's sentiment that he's not the best singer 🤷🏻‍♀️ Is it obvious yet that I really like Lewis/Bob? 😏 Who knew that I would write a Jake story and have Bob's name mentioned soooooo many times to get Jake to freak out? This chapter made me realize ... maybe I'm not good with painting a scene when I feel more comfortable just writing the banter/dialogue because at times I'm just more "clinical" when it comes to narration and I just want to get to the point. 😅

No words can describe how much everyone's reactions moved me. Especially how so many people reblogged this fic. Keep on doing what you're doing, guys! 😘

Chapter Summary: Y/N is an absolute mastermind, but Natasha is one too. Bob is an absolute sweetheart (nothing new to see here).

Tagging: @mellowstatesmanhandsempath @ravenmoore14 @blackmagicwoman @silenthappyplace @mrsevans90 @dempy @arcxnxm @hookslove1592 @djs8891

Read me on AO3

~Jake POV~

“Special delivery for Floyd.”

Maverick showed up in the break room. And, without further ado, dropped a Tupperware container on the table where Bob was sitting. Bob looked up curiously. “Huh, okay…”

Jake was sitting with the rest of the Dagger Squad on base, when his mouth hovered over his sandwich, about to take a bite.

“Y/N dropped it off at Penny’s,” Captain Mitchell explained.

At the mention of your name, Jake frowned before turning his head to inspect what Maverick just delivered.

“Oh, Bob is climbing the racks of popular guys around here,” Natasha teased. “Let me see.” She reached for the piece of paper taped on the cover.

Despite Bob’s efforts to stop her, Natasha’s actions were too swift. He observed Jake with uncertainty.

Natasha narrated the post-it, “Just a small piece of Montana so you can feel more at home, Bob. Only meant for sharing when the others have done something nice for you,” she paused. “Woah, this can be tough for some people. P.S. I’ll be your Huckleberry. Y/N. That’s cute. And then there’s some sort of smiley face.”

Bob snorted before revealing the insides of the Tupperware. The smell of dessert reached their nostrils. It left a speechless Bob behind. He smiled fondly. “Oh, … it’s Huckleberry Buckle.”

The rest of the crew groaned in delight.

“Bob, my friend,” Bradley leaned down, to drape his arm over his shoulder, “you do know that I held the door open for you this morning.”

Bob chuckled. “Just dig in, y’all. If you want some, just grab a plate and a fork.”

This was the signal for most of the Dagger Squad to spring into action.

“Don’t be animals. One for plates and one for forks,” Javy reminded them.

With sentimental eyes, Jake took another glance at the freshly baked dessert. He cleared his throat. “That’s Y/N for you. Baking stuff is Y/N’s love language,” he explained before watching Bob out of the corner of his eye while everyone dug in.

Bob took his ringing phone from out of his pocket. “Hey, yes, I—we just got it. You just made everyone’s day, I think.”

The Dagger Squad echoed with their mouths full, “We love you, Y/N! Love—love you!”

Jake intensely watched Bob while he munched on the pastry, desperately wanting to know what you two were talking about.

“You want me to—really? Did you mention that to-” Bob’s gaze met Jake’s. Once he already found him already staring at him, Bob meekly averted his eyes. “Um, yeah, sure. Hangman, it’s for you,” he said, giving him the phone.

Jake put a smile on his face when he spoke with a gravelly voice. “Hello, stranger.”

He heard you on the other end exhale. “Has anyone ever told you that you got a really sultry voice?”

Jake inhaled deeply and instantly regretted it. Choking on a crumb, Jake coughed to clear his throat. He felt his skin heat up, either your words or the chocking hazard was getting to him. “Uhm, okay?” He phrased as a question. “Not under these circumstances, no.” For good measure, he took a huge gulp of water.

“Have you asked them yet? You know, the karaoke thing?”

“No?”

Jake could basically feel you vibrating through the phone.

“Well, are you gonna? Time is of the essence.”

“Why are you so adamant to get it done this quickly?” He asked, taking another bite.

You stammered, “I need to—I just do. Aren’t we best friends?”

Jake laughed at your faltering attempt to get your way. “Of course, we are.”

“Then it’s your responsibility to make me get to know your colleagues, no questions asked. Maybe I could make you look good, huh?” Now your insistence for this event kinda made more sense.

He exhaled, “Guys, want to do karaoke night with Y/N?”

The Dagger Squad made whoops of agreement.

“You heard that? You really know how to work the crowd, don’t you?”

“What can I say? I have to make use of my strengths.”

Jake shook his head. “I can tell.”

“Now I know why we never did karaoke together,” Natasha mused before knocking back a drink of tequila.

“What?” Jake was still smiling widely when he stepped off stage.

“That was horrendous to watch. And I’m not even talking about what we were just forced to listen to.”

He rolled his eyes at her dig. “Come on, you’re just being mean. Y/N, hey, tell them.” Jake widened his arms, expecting you to snuggle up to his chest.

As if reading his mind, you stepped into his arms. Almost like you were keeping him in suspense, you licked your lips and patted his chest consolingly. “You looked really handsome up there on stage.”

“See?” Jake looked around to challenge his witnesses before realization hit him. He followed you as you stepped away from him. “Wait, what?”

Any disappointed feelings evaporated within him when Jake sat next to you on the couch which oversaw the karaoke stage and spoke softly, “You having fun?”

You leaned against his side, feeling content with just doing your familiar tradition. “You know I do. Thanks for being such a good sport about this.”

“You mean for me being such a horrible singer?”

“You’re tolerable,” you said soothingly and stroked the back of his neck.

“Gee, thanks.”

You nudged your head against his shoulder. “Kidding. You have a great shower voice.”

With a frowning face, Jake stared at you.

You paused in thought. “That sounded weird, didn’t it?”

“Already forgotten.”

“You’re such a sweetheart.” You briefly leaned your head back into the crook of his neck.

The expression which bordered between mischief and intimacy on Jake’s face was only meant for you to see. “Careful, darlin’. With words like that, you’re starting to make all the girls here jealous.”

“I’m good, thanks,” Natasha interjected, jolting you from your thoughts. “Don’t know if you guys are disgusting or just too adorable together.”

You chuckled, hiding your face behind your hair.

Jake leaned his arm against the back of the couch you were sitting on and said with a teasing voice, “Oh, Phoenix, is there something you want to tell?”

A mysterious smile lingered on Natasha’s lips. “I don’t know. Is there something you want to tell?”

Jake remained silent when he narrowed his eyes. “Nope.”

“Pity,” Natasha retorted.

“This tension is getting way too thick for me.” You decided and braced yourself to stand up. “Bob’s song choice is calling my name.”

At the mention of his name, Jake turned his head in an almost comical way. “Wait, Bob?”

You turned halfway around. “Definitely. I think I’m feeling ‘Take Me Home, Country Roads’, you know?”

Natasha gave her vote of confidence. “Don’t let Bob fool you. He’s great. As long as you don’t get into a duet with Rooster.” Her eyes widened at that specific scenario. “I’m serious. I can’t take one more ‘Great Balls of Fire’ today.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

Jake stood up, hiding his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “We’re singing together, right?”

“Of course we are, buddy. It’s tradition,” you said, patting his cheek before leaving again.

Jake sat back down with a sigh, mouthing, “Buddy?” to himself.

“You must have really scared her off with your karaoke performance, … buddy,” Natasha teased next to him.

“You know what?” Jake brooded over his next retort. “Why don’t you have fun with your next Britney song, huh?”

“Thanks. If I play my cards right, I could convince Y/N to join me. I bet she likes Toxic, huh?”

“Everyone does.” Knowing that you wouldn’t mind that one bit.

~ Jake POV ~

“Another plane, another train. Another bottle in the brain. Another girl, another fight. Another drive all night,” You rapped without having care in the world while you mimicked guitar sounds. With your arm slung over his shoulder, Jake carried your body inside.

“You know, I got neighbors, right? I don’t know if they’d appreciate you hollering to the Beastie Boys.”

As if the thought just hit you, you rasped, “I could do it while whisper-yelling. You know, show them some taste.”

Jake shook his head at your antics. “You and your 90’s songs.”

“That was actually late 80’s.”

Jake only chuckled at your musical knowledge shining through. “Someone’s not drunk, huh? Do I need to carry you to bed?”

“Oh, Mr. Lieutenant Seresin-” You leaned back with a smirk, inspecting Jake thoroughly. That gaze alone, and that rank drop, sent a surprising shiver down his spine.

-“You know, I’m not that kinda girl.”

“Oh my God,” he whispered. “Only you would try to flirt in your affectionate state.”

“I’m always flirting with you.”

That reminder unsettled Jake, especially since that sort of affection seemed unusual to other people. For some reason, he didn’t want to lose that. Jake swallowed, frowning. “Yeah, that … that’s what we do. We’re just really, uh…”

“Really secure in our friendship,” you added, holding onto his arms.

His eyes lit up, feeling grateful for your words and warm from your touch. “Exactly. We are.”

You smirked. “How secure do you feel with Javy?”

“Hey, that’s very different. I’m very comfortable with ‘touching guys’, but we’re not in the flirty stage.”

You pursed your lips, imagining that specific scenario. “So, you’re saying you could get there with him one day.”

He didn’t have to ponder about that. “Nope. There’s never been the need for that.”

“Oh, you’re saying I’m special, sweetheart?” Your hold shifted into a tight hug.

“Don’t fish for compliments. You know you are,” Jake whispered quietly, like he was sharing something only for you to know.

“Oh, that’s nice,” you muttered. Snuggling deeper into his strong shoulders while enjoying his warmth. “Damn, your shoulders are really something else, huh? Did I already say that?”

Jake’s shoulders shook with laughter. “It’s fine.”

Like a gentle and exploring piano player, your fingers danced around his shoulder. “You must get them compliments all the time from everyone else.”

“I don’t care about everyone else,” Jake paused.

“Sorry for objectifying you. You’re a real nice guy.”

“First, I don’t mind you objectifying me. Second, don’t you dare call me nice.”

“Oh, you’re just a sweetheart and I don’t get why you don’t let others see that.” Jake felt his body vibrate when you nestled deeper into his neck. Maybe it was easier for Jake to admit stuff if he didn’t have to look at you.

That thought process was eviscerated when you leaned back to stare into his eyes. You stroked his cheeks with deep consideration. “You know, sometimes I keep thinking you deserve so much more than the small scraps of brief flings you’re setting for yourself.”

Almost allured, Jake leaned his face into your palm. Before he caught himself with that infuriating smile. “Oh, you’re thinking about me having sex. Is there something you want to tell me?”

He could feel your disappointment deeply in his core when you sighed heavily. “Jake, you really know how to kill the mood.”

Jake smiled proudly. “Thanks. I really worked hard on that skill.”

With wide eyes, your whole stance changed. “I changed my mind. Can you take me to bed, in a purely platonic way?”

“Only because you asked nicely.”

“Oh, proof that Jake Seresin is secretly a gentleman.” As soon as he offered his smile, you squeezed his dimples, like he was a little kid.

Jake shook his head. “Okay, I think it’s time for bed.”

“And the great Hangman takes aim. Will he be able to defeat the local competition or forfeit his winning streak?”

Jake sighed at hearing Rooster commenting with high anticipation on their pool game at their usual hangout. His arm, holding the cue, hesitated on the pool table. “Rooster, if I have to listen to your droning voice any longer-”

Rooster leaned over the cushion, whispering teasingly, “Why? Am I getting inside your head?”

Jake scoffed at the insinuation. “You think you can get to me with mind games? I invented those.” He pulled his arm back. The moment he saw you enter, a fond smile tugged at the corner of his lips when he saw you laugh with Natasha and -

-pat Bob’s arm?

Jake pushed the cue forward. And watched in apprehension as it slipped away from the ball. “Fuck me,” he grumbled. He couldn’t look away from the unfolding car accident of his play as the ball slithered frustratingly to the middle of the table.

Rooster snorts morphed into boisterous laughter. “Outstanding performance. At least something is getting to you. Are you sure you’re as good as you claim to be?”

Jake whipped his head around. “You know, why don’t you play one of your piano sessions?”

“That would be kind of hard to do since-” Rooster leaned forward with his cue stick. “-you know, I’m beating you.”

Jake cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. He felt his eyes wander surreptitiously to the pair sitting at the bar. Jake made grumbling noises when Penny covered his view as his fingers tightened around the cue stick.

“Ace, you need a special invitation or are you considering to surrender already?” Jake heard the annoying voice behind him. It took everything inside him to not give up and wander where he really wanted to go.

“You’re a hilarious bird.”

Jake lined up his shot.

~ Y/N POV ~

“Okay, what did I miss?”

When you turned your head, Jake sauntered next to you. It took you another glance until you noticed something amiss. “Woah, what happened? You look really hot,” you said, inspecting Jake’s forehead with the back of your hand.

Jake smirked. “Well, thank you. I try my best.”

You rolled your eyes at Jake’s antics to view everything as a compliment. “No, you dork. I mean, you’re like really sweaty. Did you overdo it with the testosterone match?”

“I think I did it just right,” Jake sputtered.

“Who won?”

His green eyes twinkled at the spoken challenge, making your heart flutter. “Who do you think?”

It took you less than a few seconds to look towards Bradley, who swaggered behind Jake. “Who won?”

Jake opened his mouth to gasp at your cheekiness not to trust his word. “I won! What are you asking him for?”

“Barely,” Bradley mouthed, making you giggle. “Totally. I was absolutely … destroyed.” His eyes turned serious when Jake’s gaze found his. “I need some beer to recharge,” he said, moving away.

With a conspiring demeanor, Natasha leaned forward to whisper into your ears. “Oh please, let me tell him.”

Jake’s head moved in her direction. “Oh, you’re here too. Tell me what?”

She placed her hands on your shoulders, slightly shaking your body with her utter enjoyment. “Someone’s gotten herself a date,” Natasha trilled with a sing-song voice.

The glower on Jake’s face sent shivers through your body. You felt uncertain at seeing his reaction. You tried to tell yourself that Jake was just being an overprotective friend. His gaze alternated between yours and Natasha’s before it finally landed on Bob’s.

A wide-eyed Bob swallowed his cup of water. “Not me. I mean, not that Y/N isn’t … you know-” You felt touched that Bob tried to rectify his statement by not wanting to hurt your feelings when he truly looked at you. “You’re really pretty. A guy would be lucky to have you.”

You inwardly gushed at Bob’s gentlemanly ways and felt utterly compelled to give him a hug. Instead, you held him by the shoulder. “Oh Bob, you’re such a sweetheart. You just earned yourself a dance. Pick a song.” With an energetic jump, you moved from your stool and went towards the jukebox.

“I didn’t want to make things weird for the team,” Bob whispered with wide eyes.

There was something akin to respect shining in Jake’s eyes when he nodded once before staring calmly at Natasha. He tried really hard not to reveal his candid emotions on his face. Jake promised to himself, he wouldn’t clench his jaw or cross his arms. He felt like a twitching fool when he was about to cross his arms. Instead, he was forced to let his arms glide downwards before he stroked his abdominal muscles. In the end, he awkwardly hid his hands in the back pockets of his pants.

Natasha smiled mysteriously. “Don’t worry, I’m a great matchmaker. She’s in the safest hands.”

“Phoenix,” Jake started, before he inwardly winced. He crossed his arms and spoke slowly, “what are you doing?”

She shrugged. “Just listening. Y/N mentioned something when we were talking.”

He couldn’t help tilting his head in intrigue. “What exactly?”

“That’s for me to know and you to butt out.” Natasha’s expression softened when she tried to soften the blow. “All in good time. I have a plan. It’s gonna sound weird, but you seem like someone who likes having their best friend close. This is me ensuring to make San Diego as appealing as possible to her. I’m just saying—if she wants to stay,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.

“By giving her a date? You’re right, it doesn’t make any sense.”

“Best-case scenario: She’s gonna have the time of her life with the potential to meet the love of her life while getting a meal out of the date.” Natasha lifted the palms of her hands like a scale to weigh the chances. “Worst case: death by boredom. And next thing you know, Y/N is gonna seek comfort from her best friend after realizing that all naval aviators are douchebags.”

Jake groaned at the thought. “Ugh, great. It’s a damn naval aviator?”

She tilted her head in fascination. “Short question: does she have a thing for aviators? There was a fangirl moment when I mentioned Mav.”

He winced before murmuring, “It’s a statistics thing. Don’t mention Iceman around her.”

Natasha nodded. “Noted.”

“You’re way too involved in this.” Jake pressed his lips together, hoping to see her ultimate endgame. “What’s in it for you?”

“Not everything’s an agenda.” Natasha brushed by him, moving away.

Jake narrowed his eyes with deep suspicion. “And that’s not really an answer.”

~ Y/N POV ~

You could feel your heart beating nervously in your chest. Even your stomach was being all fluttery when you looked into the bathroom mirror while putting mascara on your eyelashes. You heard shuffling behind you before you met green eyes in the reflection.

Your voice echoed in the bathroom. “Jake, you’re hovering like a mother hen.” You didn’t bother turning around since you needed to focus on the task at hand, in order not to go crazy with anxiety. His rare controlling persona wasn’t helping matters.

Jake leaned his shoulder against the door jamb. “I’m just curious, that’s all. You’ve never met the guy. Assuming it’s a man, I don’t want to presume.” He waved his arms around. “I wouldn’t put it past Phoenix to put you on a blind date with a girl.”

You pursed your lips while mentioning casually, “Nat did mention that most of the aviators on the force were duds.”

Jake grimaced. “Going to ignore that,” he mumbled under his breath.

You wiped some mascara remnants from your eyelid. “Your sex not being dating material or me hypothetically dating the same team?”

Jake shook his head, clearing his throat. “So, where are you two lovebirds meeting tonight? Romantic restaurant, picnic by the waterfront?”

The annoyed growl leaving your mouth surprised you. Normally, you weren’t an irrational person who was prone for aggravation. His hovering presence distracted you in an inefficient way. “Seresin, you’re starting to cramp me in this bathroom.” You puzzled yourself more than him when you shoved him through the door. “All answers will be given in the living room after I had some breathing room.”

As soon as the door was closed, it felt like you could breathe again. You exhaled a heavy breath. “Oh my God,” you whispered.

“I heard that!” Jake protested behind the door.

“Good!”

Jake released the breath he was holding. He was sitting on the couch, drumming his fingers on his thigh. He mindlessly watched ‘The Real Housewives of New Jersey’ on his TV, needing something to run in the background while he was waiting for you to come out. Every time he heard noises coming from the bathroom, Jake craned his head, unable to tamp down his curiosity.

The moment the door closed again, he felt nervous energy coming off of him. And he didn’t truly understand why. Jake heard your shuffling feet in the distance before you finally came out. It felt like the breath had been knocked out of his body.

There was something about a Y/N in a sundress and ballet flats that made him feel very weird. You swung around to show off the full effect of your date attire.

“So, what’s the verdict? Does it meet the expectations of Jake Seresin at least?”

“Um-” Jake cleared his throat before he averted his gaze. “-it looks good.”

“Oh, if the dress looks good… Lucky me, huh?”

“Whoever you’re meeting tonight, they’re the lucky ones.”

“Oh.” You rushed forward, hugging Jake sideways in gratitude. “I like when sweet and charming Jake comes out. He’s such a gentleman.”

“I’m going to assert plausible deniability, in case you decide to reveal my secrets.” Jake shared a small smile with you, reminding himself to at least appear like he was fine with the thought of you going out with another naval aviator.

“I wouldn’t. Not for a good trade at least.”

Jake pointed at you as a reminder. “No apple pie.”

You threw your head back, groaning loudly. “How about a strudel?”

“Not even that.”

“Fine.” She leaned back against the couch before whispering quietly, – like you had to remind yourself - “I need to get going.”

He looked up. “You want me to drive you?”

“That’d be weird, wouldn’t it?”

Jake had to keep trying. “To pick you up then.”

A small part of him would remember fondly how he made you chuckle. “Even weirder flex. I’ll be fine.”

The goodbye kiss on his cheek made him sigh before he nodded with a resolved air. “Text me when you need a getaway car.”

You laughed airily. “Alright.”

It was an hour later when he was already lying in bed and mindlessly scrolling through social media on his phone when he received a text from you.

Don’t need a getaway car.

Nodding dazedly to himself, Jake whispered, “That’s just … great.”

Jake was proving to be an utterly, frustrating man. It had been fifteen minutes since you said good morning that Jake had uttered a word. Only the sound of awkward breakfast crunching could be heard.

You sighed when you saw Jake eye you inscrutably again. He truly thought he was being covert. “Okay, when are we going to break the tension?”

“What tension? There’s no tension.” Jake kept munching on his cornflakes. Like he didn’t have a care in the world. Granted, Jake was the kind to keep on eating food, even when he wasn’t feeling well. “It’s a wonderful morning. I’m having breakfast.” Jake scarfed down a mouthful. “There’s nothing out of the ordinary whatsoever.” To prove his point, he offered a close-lipped smile.

You narrowed your eyes in speculation. Talking gibberish was very unlike him. “You want to know how last night went.”

“I don’t want to know.”

“You don’t want to know,” you repeated slowly and in strong incredulity.

“Yep, no interest.” Jake paused in thought. “Unless you want to talk about your date.”

“I’m not going to force you into a conversation if you couldn’t care less.”

“I do care,” Jake rushed with his reply before his voice turned casual again. “I mean a meager amount.”

“Is this like a guy thing?” You sniffed, taking on a low manly voice for effect. “I don’t mind talking about my latest conquest but I’d rather die than talk about it in a meaningful way.”

“First, I hope that wasn’t an impression of me.”

Your face took on a blank expression before you crossed your arms. Waiting for Jake to continue with his list.

“Second, I don’t mind talking about your … dates, as long as it’s not, you know-” He winced. “-sexual.”

“Jesus, that was a first date. And besides, I don’t know if that’s sexist or something else, that you’re allowed to talk about that stuff, but not me?”

“I don’t know why we’re going the feminist route, but with you it’s just different,” he mumbled before shrugging.

“Why?”

“Because you’re my best friend,” Jake responded fervently. “And none of these guys deserve you.” His voice turned quiet, becoming serious all of a sudden. “You deserve someone better.”

Disappointment filled your body at Jake’s perspective. Recounting all the times in your head when you would tell him how he deserved someone who could challenge him, yet appreciate the things about him which made him such a decent and caring guy. It was a pity that Jake would rather wallow in his self-loathing, while pretending to be the most egotistical guy that ever existed than to be vulnerable for once.

Your shoulders deflated when you realized that maybe he would never be ready to have a meaningful relationship—or any relationship at all that progressed over the 3-day mark—and you swore that a small part of you died right there on the kitchen floor. Feeling more hopeless than ever.

Before you could fully understand the reason why this bothered you so much, Jake’s concerned expression pulled you out of the deepest parts of yourself.

“What? What’d I say?”

You shook your head. Never feeling this gloomy before. “You know, for someone who claims to be so smart, you’re just so dang stupid.” Every single word felt like it was torn painfully from between your lips.

“What?”

You just felt too tired to make Jake understand. It felt easier to just turn your body away. Despite how much you hated appearing this careless towards him. “I got to go. I’ll see you later, Jake.”

~ Jake POV ~

“Well, someone’s in a bad mood.” Natasha teased him. Despite them having to endure the same punishment by being forced to do push-ups next to each other, Natasha still seemed to be in a formidable mood.

Jake turned his head. Not caring particularly that he sent her a dark glower.

“Don’t hang your head, Hangman. I doubt you could’ve evaded Mav’s hit on your best day.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled. Inwardly, he winced. His ma would have his hide if she heard him talking like that to anyone.

“What? No comeback? I wonder what else could be bothering you,” she mused to herself.

Natasha didn’t fool him one bit. Jake wondered if she had it out for him and that was why she focused so hard on Y/N.

“What do you think, Bob?” She decided to thrust the knife even deeper.

Even at the mention of his name, Jake swore his forehead garnered the first droplets of sweat.

Bob chose to focus on his push-ups before grunting, “I’m not getting in the middle of this.”

“You’re way too nice.”

Jake clenched his jaw. “Yes, someone’s a real goody two-shoes.”

Bob turned his head, looking bewildered. “What did I do?”

“Oh, just sweet and perfect Bob who can do nothing wrong.”

Heavy footsteps came closer. “Why do I hear chattering and see no push-ups over here?” Maverick’s voice came over their heads.

“Understood, Sir,” Bob automatically replied.

Jake kept his mouth closed. As much as it pained him.

After the completion of their punishment and he had taken a shower, Jake hurried after Natasha in the rec room. “I need to talk to you.”

Natasha tilted her head. “I thought we already did.”

“Who was the date?”

She exhaled in exasperation, glaring at him. “You’re so predictable, Hangman,” she said, turning around to leave.

“Wait, wait. I’m sorry-”

Natasha stopped in her tracks. She swivelled her head, frowning. “An apology? You just bought yourself two minutes of my time. Go on.”

“Was it Bob?”

Natasha breathed out slowly, pausing in thought. “…You have a weird fixation on Bob. I wonder why that is.”

Jake cleared his throat and crossed his arms. “I don’t-”

“Just kidding. I know why that is. And no. I asked, but he refused.” She shook her head, revealing that this bothered her more than she wanted to admit. “Honorable little fucker,” Natasha grumbled. She chose to clarify instead. “He wouldn’t have minded to date Y/N, but, you know- Didn’t he tell you this already?”

Bob did mention that. But Jake couldn’t help thinking that he might have changed his mind. He averted his gaze, feeling slightly depraved that he considered Floyd doing that. “Maybe. But still.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “What does it matter who the lucky fella was? What are you gonna do? Scare the hell out of them?”

It was indeed bad when someone like Phoenix could predict his future plans. “If it’s someone who doesn’t deserve her, then yes.”

She hummed. “If you know her so well, then tell me, what kind of person do you think Y/N deserves?”

Jake spread his arms. It felt strange how a list of things ran through his head and how they just rolled off his tongue. “Someone nice. Someone who just gets her and adores her little quirks. Just a gentleman.” He counted the amount of traits with his fingers. “Funny, maybe a bit sensitive or vulnerable. Good-looking, but that’s not as high up on her list as the inner qualities.”

Natasha remained quiet. Her brown eyes were staring at him with a profound expression. “Very insightful. Interesting qualities you just listed off. Anyone you know that could fulfil those strengths?”

At the mere mention, he felt like he was put in the spotlight. Either she wanted him to say ‘Bob’ – since those characteristics could cover him easily—or maybe utter his own name. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how much he wanted to be with you. And wanted to be a part of you.

Jake carefully glanced at Natasha. Not trusting her look of consideration, he narrowed his eyes. He spoke slowly. “I’m not sure.”

“Pity. I could be persuaded into making something happen, if you know what I mean.”

Jake licked his lips, knowing exactly what she was trying to get him to admit. He pressed his lips together.

“But … you would actually need to say the words.” She waited patiently before sighing. “My patience knows its limits though. So, if you got nothing to say, then…” Natasha pointed behind her to threaten her departure. She nodded to herself once before saying, “Okay.” And walked towards the exit.

Jake opened his mouth, as he watched her walk away. He didn’t understand where his courage was coming from when the words left his mouth. “Natasha, would you squeeze me in as Y/N’s date?” He knew how he’d usually call her ‘Phoenix’ or in very rare instances ‘Nat’ so he figured that she caught him in a vulnerable mood for a change.

She dramatically turned around and pursed her lips. “Depends. Will you also apologize to Bob for being an absolute dick?” She paused. “Again?”

Jake sighed. “Listen, I don’t-”

“It’s called being a decent human being. It’s the least you could do. Not to mention-” Natasha tapped her chin mockingly. “-I can’t imagine how Y/N would feel if she found out that someone was being this rude to sweet Bob. I mean, what do you think? How would she feel about that?”

He revealed a tight smile at the slight warning. There was no need to hit below the belt. He would have done it anyway if Natasha said he was being a jerk. “Fine, I got your point. I’ll apologize,” he grunted lowly.

She smiled cheerily. “Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You felt bad about ignoring Jake, you thought, while you waited in the midst of the amusement park of Belmont Park. Ever since this morning, things had been weird between you. Or Jake was just being his stubborn and obstinate self.

You had been baffled since Natasha sent you a message that the date location had changed. The more you looked around, you realized that you would’ve loved to spend time with Jake at this place. You exhaled with disappointment. Jake would absolutely force you on the roller-coaster, but then feel bad once your stomach was upset by buying you a funnel cake.

Deciding that your bond with Jake was far too important than to leave everything hanging like that, you yearned to clear the air. Pulling out your phone, you scrolled through your contacts until your thumb pressed against the name.

The sound of a cell ringing in the distance made you turn your body in uncertainty. You frowned once you saw Jake advancing with hesitation, waving an arm in greeting.

“Hey, you.”

You hung up your phone, trying to grasp his presence. “What are you doing here? Did you want to ride the Giant Dipper, or something?”

Jake smiled awkwardly. “I wouldn’t actually mind that. Depends if my best friend would be up for it too?” You tried to prepare yourself against his puppy dog eyes as he stepped closer. The movement made you take notice of his suave appearance. You swore you could feel your knees weakening when you saw him wearing his jeans and a pressed white dress shirt.

Jake rubbed his hands against the fabric of his pants.

Not wanting to hurt him, you spoke slowly. “That’s hard to say. I’m kind of on a date. Just waiting, I guess.”

“Yeah, I know. Natasha told me.”

You felt befuddled by his explanation. “Why … would she do that?”

“I asked her to?” Jake phrased the statement into a cautious question.

You pursed your lips as you tried to understand why she would do that in the first place. “Did you bribe her?”

Jake blushed at a memory when he explained with a gravelly voice, “I think I paid her off by giving her the satisfaction in seeing me grovel.”

“How did that look like?” You said, feeling fascinated by the concept of a begging Jake. Even that word didn’t seem to fit him.

“You don’t want to know, trust me.” Jake grew silent before something akin to hope lit up his eyes. “Why did you want to call me?”

You cleared your throat. “Why are you here?”

Teasingly, Jake pointed at you. “I asked you first.”

You sighed. “I wanted to clear the air.” Still, you were not above getting one small dig in. “Unlike some people, I wanted to be the grown-up one here.”

Jake narrowed his eyes. “Now someone’s just being cheeky.” He exhaled, willing to admit any wrongdoings. “I’m sorry for being a dick.”

“Why were you?” You spoke softly. Just because he was your close friend didn’t mean that Jake would get special treatment.

Jake stepped closer until you were only a foot apart. “Because I have a talent for it. Because it’s easier to just pretend. Because of you going out … with a naval aviator just pissed me off. Because I-” He breathed in, like he was preparing for you to hit him. “-I really, really like you.”

You blushed, not yet trusting if he meant it or if this was just some strange prank he wanted to pull off. “You like me,” you repeated, unable not to tease him just a little bit. “And here I thought most of the time I was your annoying best friend.”

“I think you’re confusing yourself with Javy.”

You cocked your head playfully. “Oh? Do you really, really like him too?”

He pursed his lips, like he needed to entertain that thought first. “He’s just alright, I guess. I mean, I more than like you. It’s like obnoxious.”

Wow, and here you thought, Jake could prove to be an adult for once. So, unless he decided to brandish a real love confession that didn’t sound like the most aggravating nuisance, you could do the same.

“Oh my God, you’re like a big kid, huh? Using those big boy words.”

His eyes were burning with sage fire. “You’re just so infuriating at times.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Says the great Jake?”

“That’s what I mean! You’re driving me absolute insane. You’re making friends with everyone you meet.” Jake counted at his fingers. “Maverick, Bob!-”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What’s Bob got to do with this?”

“He’s like-” Jake grimaced. “-And you’re-” He waved towards you, very eloquently describing the issue at hand.

“I think somewhere was a compliment. Let me just reiterate: you think Bob’s a great, wonderful guy and I’m just-”

“Perfect,” he uttered with a hoarse voice.

You inhaled deeply, stammering nervously. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”

“It’s still the truth.”

“What if you’re only saying all of this because you can’t stand the idea of me getting with a naval aviator?” You voiced your inner worries, absolutely needing him to be truthful.

Jake opened his mouth several times before admitting, “Partly true. But the truth is, Nat made me realize I was just being too chicken to fully admit that I … I can’t imagine not spending the day with you. You make me think about you all the time. Even when I’m out with the guys and I keep thinking ‘Oh wow, Y/N would love to try out that drink’ or ‘As much as you’re a talker during Sunday Night Football-”

“Not always,” you mumbled quietly.

“-you still make it fun.”

You pressed your lips together, feeling very nervous and emotional by his words.

“Maybe I just didn’t realize I was in love with you until the concept truly hit me, that you might be into a … nice guy like Bob.”

Despite his familiar self-loathing, you couldn’t help reminding him with a small smile, “You’re a nice guy too, Jake.”

“Only with you.”

Jake’s confession made your heart palpitate in your chest nervously.

“So,” Jake started, “what do you feel for me?”

You hummed to yourself before confessing, “Ditto.”

Jake huffed loudly. “Oh my God. Of course, you’d be aggravating about it.”

“I’m just saying, maybe I really, really like you too.”

He shook his head, trying to suppress a smile. As much as you could tell what he wanted to hear from you.

In the end, you chose to take a chance. “Let’s just say, there are more times when I realized over the years how I’m in love with you than the amount of times when I can’t stand you. The second is pretty close though.”

You couldn’t have been prepared for Jake’s wide and blinding smile.

“Ditto.”

You rolled your eyes, while revealing a small smile on your lips. You decided to put him out of his misery when you admitted, “Nat was my date.”

“Wa-wait, what?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “She said that she had a specific guy in mind, but he wasn’t ready yet. I just thought it was someone who was still out on a mission. So, we hung out last night.”

Jake still remained confused. “And did what?”

“Nosy,” you mumbled. “Karaoke and stuff like that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He inquired with wide eyes.

“I wanted to, but you decided to be a jerk about it.”

Jake narrowed his eyes, shaking his head. “Nat ‘Fucking Mastermind’ Trace.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Jake looked at your surroundings, hiding his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Do you want to go on a date?”

You smirked. “Like a platonic one?”

“Nope, like a real one. You know, the romantic kind. I promise to make it a bit fun, unique and unforgettable.”

“That’s a big promise.”

Jake smirked arrogantly. “I’m aware. It also perfectly describes me.”

You groaned loudly. “And here we go. I want Nice Guy Jake though and not the obnoxious one.”

He was walking alongside you, nodding. “I’ll tell him to take an off-day.”

“What is it about you and Bob though? He’s just a really stand-up guy. Really funny.”

“So am I.”

“Sometimes. Let’s just say, we just get each other. You know, cut from the same cloth.”

Jake hummed. At least he was no longer being a caveman when it came to Bob. “Okay,” he said, laying his arm over your shoulder.

“I mean, he was just helping me rent an apartment in the city,” you explained, gauging his reaction.

“What?”

“Yes, he offered to put in a good word and Nat sent me a few listings.”

It seemed like the rare event of a speechless Jake took place. “Huh, that’s-”

“As I live and breathe, a speechless Jake Seresin was just seen out and about.” You glanced at him through your eyelashes. “I think you were about to say that’s a real stand-up guy thing to do, huh?”

Jake sighed, not wanting to admit reluctant respect before mumbling something under his breath which sounded close to, “Damn it, now I really got to apologize.”

You turned your head. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s okay. There’s still time for you to deal with your big boy emotions,” you replied before you chose to do something new. By taking his hand and interlacing your fingers together. “And here I thought, judging from your letters, you had more of a rivalry thing going with Bradley.”

“I know, right? I thought I would feel threatened by Rooster of all people. But Bob?”

“Let’s just say, in another life Bob would’ve swept me off my feet,” you retorted, patting him against his chest.

His blank expression could be described as something where he tried to imagine that so-called horror reality. “… Don’t even joke about that.”

#watchtowerindistress #steph writes #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #for the love of bob #jake seresin x fem!reader #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick fic #hangman x reader

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barleyo · 11 months

Note

Your Miguel x Reader fic was so freaking good!! I'd love to read more from you, especially Miguel x Shy!Reader (the personality of y/n kinda ressembles mine lol)! Anyways, thank you so much and keep up the great work!

Next Time.

(Miguel O'Hara X Fem! Reader)

A/N: Sorry, this is just a drabble and isn't nearly as long as my OG fic, but I hope you still enjoy it! Feel free to send a request to my inbox, as my requests are always open.

“No, no, no,” (Y/N) sighed, staring at the broken glass shards in front of her.

She had been getting better, she really had. With careful supervision by Miguel and a steady hand, she had been able to limit her accidents. However, her clumsiness seemed to always lurk, waiting to strike at the most inopportune time.

“Okay, maybe I can just pick them up,” she whispered to herself. Carefully, she wiped at the pieces, sweeping the smaller pieces into a nearby waste basket.

“Everything okay over here?” He walked over, leaning onto her workstation just as she finished grabbing a final large piece of glass. She quickly palmed the piece, clenching it behind her back. “Thought I heard something break, no?”

“No, no, nothing is going on over here, just, uhm, cleaning up. I’m just about to pack up and head home for the day.” (Y/N) squeaked, feeling the shard slice her palm with a sharp sting.

“Whatever you say,” he said. Unconvinced, Miguel turned around, pretending to walk away.

Once he made it a few paces away, (Y/N) pulled her hand back around and paled at the blood dripping down her palm. The glass was lodged right in the middle of her palm, jaggedly stuck into it.

“I knew it,” he groaned, snatching her hand away, “look at how bad that is. Are you kidding me? Come here.” He dragged her out to the hallway until she started to shake him off.

“You’re embarrassing me in front of everyone, Miguel. Stop, I promise, it’s not nearly that bad, it’s okay! Promise!”

“If it’s not that bad, why were you hiding it? Why is it bleeding? Damn it, you have glass stuck half an inch deep into your hand. Come, now.” He gently swooped her up into a messy bridal-style hold, carrying her into the break room.

He sat her down on the counter right next to the sink, legs hanging over the side.

“Duck.”

She bobbed her head down in compliance as he dug through the cabinet behind her, pulling out gauze, tweezers, and disinfecting liquid. Taking the tweezers, he attempted to pull the glass out, wiggling it slightly until it dislodged itself for her palm.

“I just don’t get it,” he sighed frustratedly, “why wouldn’t you just tell me you got hurt?”

“I didn’t want to tell you, I don’t know,” she wiped her face with her uninjured hand, “I was just doing so well, and I messed it up when I broke that beaker.”

“But why?” He opened the bottle and looked up to meet her eyes, “Hold onto my hand, this will sting.” He drenched the wound and (Y/N) squeezed down onto his hand, digging her nails into it.

“I guess I didn’t want you to be upset with me, I thought you’d be mad,” she said through gritted teeth. “You’re not mad, are you?”

“No, claro que no. Well, no, yes, I am a bit upset with you. You hurt yourself instead of just telling me and letting me help. I would have cleaned it up for you, you know.”

“I thought you were tired of picking up after me.”

Miguel wrapped her hand up in gauze, keeping it taut and compression-like. “I did say that, didn’t I? I lied.” He let go of (Y/N)’s hand, lifting the back of it up to his lips. “I’ve missed it a bit. My days feel empty when I do not have a little (Y/N) mess to deal with. Makes me feel useful. Feel better?”

“Yeah, I’m alright now. Thanks, Miguel.”

“Hmph,” he turned her hand around, now placing kisses on her bandaged palm.

“What are you doing?” She giggled as his hair hit her arm while he peppered kisses over her hand.

“I’m just kissing your boo-boo, mi tesoro, let me work.” He smirked into her hand, knowing he was embarrassing her.

“You don’t have to– mm,” she hummed as he made his way up her arm with the kisses, stopping at her shoulder.

He pulled her shirt to the side, revealing her bare shoulder. He brought his mouth to it and teased his teeth over the exposed patch of skin, not quite biting into it. Miguel took (Y/N)’s face in his hand and kissed her, scraping his teeth against her bottom lip and nibbling on it. He slid his tongue over the raw lip, calming the sharp sting.

He baited her to open her mouth, wrapping his arms around her torso and grabbing her ass. She gasped into his mouth as he forced his tongue in, exploring it.

“Fuck,” he broke away from the kiss briefly, “I can’t take it anymore, I’m gonna take you again in here, baby.”

“But, people ‘re still in the lab, what if they catch us?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like that?” He pulled her pants to her ankles, working his hand past the band of her panties, and rubbed light, teasing circles on her clit. “Want everyone to watch me fuck you real good, don’t you?”

Her hips bucked into his whispering touches and she let out a guttural moan. “Nuh-uh, can’t let anyone see us, it’ll be embarrassing,” she gasped.

“No? Then don’t let them catch us then. Keep quiet, muñequita.” He pushed a finger into her and curled it, chuckling at the choking groan she let out. “I know I make you feel good, but you don’t want everyone in the building to hear you, do you?”

(Y/N) shook her head and grabbed onto Miguel’s forearm while he drilled his fingers into her spongey g-spot. She felt his fingers leave just as warmth started to pool in her stomach, whining at the emptiness.

“Why did you take ‘em out?”

“Hey, don’t whine,” he shushed her, “I want you to finish on my dick, okay, baby?” He pulled her down from the countertop, flipping her around so that her ass pushed into his erection. He slipped his dick out of his pants and pulled her panties to the side, pushing his tip into her. “I don’t know if you deserve the whole thing yet,” he teased, “maybe I’ll make you finish with just the tip, hm?”

“No, please, will you please give me the whole thing? I promise, I’ll be good!”

“Oh, you promise?” He continued to slowly pump his cock’s head into her, inching in and out at a snail’s pace. “Gonna be a good girl?” Seeing the back of her head nod up and down, he pushed deeper into her, letting her walls envelope and suck his length in. “Aw, sweetness, I can feel you already clenching up. Gonna cum quick like a lil slut, huh?”

“Yes– God! Feels so good already, ‘m feelin’ so full now.” She rocked her hips, getting herself off on his cock.

Pressing his hands into (Y/N)’s hips, Miguel took over and slammed her hips back and forth. Skin slapping and wet squelches filled the room. It drove him crazy.

“God, I can hear your wet little pussy so clearly. Mm, she’s talking to me, baby, saying how good she feels.”

(Y/N) threw her head onto her crossed arms, biting down on her own forearms to silence her ecstatic little mewls. “I’m so close,” she mumbled into her arms.

Miguel snapped her hips into her roughly and leaned forward. “Don’t give me that shy shit, speak up.”

She tried to repeat herself, only to find herself a babbling mess as she drenched his dick with her cum, legs shaking while they tried to support her body.

“Good girl, creaming all over my dick.” He groped her tits from the back, pinching them while she rode out her orgasm. “Mm, you gonna let me cum in you again?

“Yes– anything you want,” she arched into his touch, feeling him tweaking and twisting her buds.

He felt his pace become sloppy and rushed. He rutted deep into her heat and came, spurting his load right into her slick walls. “Fuck, ‘s so good,” he sighed, pulling out of her dripping cunt, watching a stream of his cum pool out of her. He picked her up, placing her back on her spot on the counter.

“Still feel so good.” (Y/N) leaned forward onto his broad shoulder.

“Yeah? Bet I can make you feel even better next time,” he snickered right by her ear.

“Next time?”

“There’ll always be a next time with you.”

#barleyxnighteye #smutfic #fanfiction #smutty smut smut #smut #spiderman across the spiderverse #spider verse #into the spider verse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #across the spider verse fanfic

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jarofstyles · 8 months

Text

Flame- Glow

Second to last part… who’s scared?

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WC: 4.9k

—-

Y/N wanted to cry.

It had been 4 days since she had seen Harry.

The next day she had texted him to come over but he had replied that he had to go see his cousin who lived an hour away. That was fine, sure, but the lack of invite had stung a little. She had no right to be upset about it considering she wasn’t owed it, Harry had a right to hang out with him alone… but they usually went together. He had a cabin out near a lake and they’d spent a few weekends there with him. Y/N quite liked his cousin.

Usually he would text her an option to go, at the very least. She sometimes couldn’t because of work or classes but there wasn't even the option to deny it this time. He had simply left. He was answering her texts, not ignoring her at all, but it was obvious something was off. The energy, the vibe, whatever you wanted to call it was very wrong and it made her feel sick to her tummy. She was curled on her couch with a mug of tea, having finished her last exam today. Harry had finished his all in two days, choosing to cram them instead of spread them out like she had because it worked better for his brain to let things go in a short amount of time instead of holding off. Getting it over with was the best option.

She exhaled into the steam, taking a sip of the chamomile. It wasn’t as good as Harry made it, but it did the job.

Y/N was praying in her head that she hadn’t fucked everything up. The more days he was gone, the more she realized she had become so used to him as a daily fixture, looked forward to her daily dose of his silliness. Being without him made her feel the echoing emptiness in her chest. Cold and sad and generally miserable. It had caught her off guard. She prided herself on her independence, on her ability to take care of herself. It wasn’t that she still couldn’t do that. It was the fact that she felt like something big was gone every day, wriggling under her skin to let her know something was wrong. He had become routine even with his spontaneity.

4 days was starting to feel like forever. She just wanted him back.

The sounds of nature didn’t soothe him the way he had originally sought out. Sitting on the dock of the cabin, he felt it bob with the water as he held his knees to his chest. It was a bit nippy out, still early in the morning. The cool air helped wake him up, his tea in a travel mug next to him as the sweater did it’s best to keep him as warm as it could. The rising sun was peeking through the trees, the momentary warm when the leaves fluttered and exposed it a breath of relief.

The weekend here had been good for him in a lot of ways, but it hasn't fixed everything. His heart still ached. It ached in a way he had thought people were dramatizing in the movies and the songs. His hand rubbed at the spot his heart rested under but no amount of soothing did much to keep it from aching. Throbbing and not in a good way. It was this weekend that opened his eyes up to seeing that it was just as bad as people said. Being in love was so multidimensional that it sort of freaked him out.

He had always been a fan of love stories. The gooey and mushy, the cotton candy softness of two people’s eyes meeting and the rest being history. He was a crier during romance movies, enjoying the final reconciliation at the end with the kiss and the promise of forever. He had never been fond of sad endings, of the protagonist losing the girl and walking out into the night alone. In his mind, everyone deserved love and deserved to feel adored.

With Y/N, he had felt that sort of adoration. That’s part of why he felt so confused. So conflicted with the situation. There was no way he had been reading her adoration wrong. Y/N wasn’t an overly affectionate person with people. That much was obvious to anyone who knew her. She was down to give a hug but she didn’t lay on the flattery thick. She didn't seek out touch. His Y/N was someone who kept her body and her vulnerable thoughts to herself. This arrangement, it had brought out a side of her that he had seen glimpses of but brought it fully to the front. Pouts for cuddles and sweet little kisses on the lips, giggles in bed. Her slipping her hands under his shirt to seek his warmth out, kisses smeared to his neck and cheeks and her smaller hands gripping his jaw so she could simply stare at him. She told him how beautiful she thought he was. Expressed how much she adored him, how much he made her laugh and how lucky she felt to be able to have him in her life.

So what the hell had gone wrong? What had pushed her away from him?

Harry had spent a lot of time wracking his brain to try and figure out what he could have done. Went through their days step by step, word by word to try and pinpoint what could have brought it on. There was nothing on his end, no change or risky behavior besides trying to express to her that night how much he had actually missed her. But even then, she had caved and came to see him. There had been no shift in their relationship until they were at the cafe.

He didn’t want to entertain the thought of her being into that bellend that had come up to the table, but that was the only thing he could think of. He wasn’t Y/N’s type at all. Obnoxious and obviously trying to get into her pants. He wouldn’t have much to communicate with her about. He wasn’t being judgemental- He had Niall look into the guy for him. Creepy? Maybe. But it had bothered him and Niall knew everyone and anyone. It took only a day for him to tell Harry just what he had suspected. The guy was a dickhead and he was definitely trying to get into Y/N’s pants.

That gross sick feeling had been lingering in his stomach ever since. He knew Y/N wasn’t hooking up with him simply because he had been getting pretty consistent texts from her about exams and he did trust her above all else. Y/N may be callous and a bit oblivious to people but she wasn’t a liar. She would be honest with him if she was into him. He had that faith in her. He still loved her, he didn’t think poorly of her even if the feelings weren’t returned.

“Still hiding from her?” His cousin appeared at the shoreline, fishing pole in hand. Harry stiffened slightly, wiping under his eye as a tear he hadn’t realized fell went down his cheek. God damn it. Sometimes he hated how sensitive he was.

“Shut up.” he grumbled, pulling his tea back to his lips as Jack laughed under his breath. His cousin wasn’t one to sugar coat things, let alone baby Harry. “M’not hiding. I’m trying to figure out how the hell to tell her that m’in love with her and we have to stop fucking around because if we don’t I’m going to lose my mind knowing she doesn’t feel the same.” Harry’s voice was hoarse from lack of use, this being the first time he spoke in quite a few hours. It was embarrassing to him, how devastated he felt right now, but he needed someone to talk to. Jack was the obvious choice. He was also the only other person he felt comfortable talking to about his emotions when they ran this deep. Usually it was Y/N… but obviously that wasn’t an option right now.

“Yes, you are. She’s been texting you every day. Obviously she isn’t upset with you or disgusted at the sight of you. I think you need to grow a pair and actually speak to her. She isn’t going to be patient with you running away for a long time.” That was a fact, unfortunately. Y/N wasn’t known for her patience. “H, you don’t know she doesn’t feel the same. Maybe she just put her foot in her mouth because you were acting like a caveman. I have always thought you two would end up together.” Jack sighed, loading up the pole with bait before casting, letting the quiet of the forest settle for a few moments so his words could sink in. “If you want my honest opinion, which you’re getting regardless of the answer, I think she is just as into you as you are into her. She loves you back. You got scared, felt rejected, and ran. I can’t say I wouldn’t lick my wounds for a day but you can’t hide out and not tell her. It’s gone past the way you can just brush it off.”

Harry knew he was right but he desperately didn’t want to admit that to him. His pride felt wounded enough as it was.

“I know. I’m just fucking terrifeid of fucking all of this up, J. She’s… she’s my best friend. I dunno what I’ll do without her.”

“Who says you’re going to have to go without her, Harry? Who says she isn’t going to be relieved you tell her first. Who says she isn’t going to say she loves you too and you two don’t ride off into the sunset to have dozens of stupidly cute babies and a bunch of dogs?” Jack sighed, a bit exasperated from having such an unusually pessimistic Harry to soothe for a few days in a row.

“Y/N is a cat person.” he muttered, wincing as he felt something hit the back of his head a few moments after. “Oi, what the fuck?”

“I threw a strawberry at that thick head to knock you out of your wallowing. Just go. Get the fuck out of my house and go home to her. She’s done with exams. It won’t distract her anymore. You can come back if she rejects you. But she won’t.”

—

Y/N: when are you gonna be homeeee.

H: actually, I just got home.

H: you cool to come over in a bit? An hour? I’d like to talk if that’s alright.

Y/N: sure, sure. I’ll be over.

She was going to throw up. Y/N was sure of it.

He wanted to talk. To Talk. That was never good.

Y/N pulled her sweatshirt closer to her body as she walked down the hallway to his door, hands shaking slightly. She’d never been this nervous meeting up with Harry and it was a very weird feeling, one she wasn’t sure she liked. With him, she felt pretty certain that she would be warmly welcomed, even before they’d had sex. He scooped her into a hug and she would grumble but sink deeper into the embrace when he failed to let go past the usual allotted hug time one would consider normal. Now, however, she felt uneasy.

His abnormal behavior had been the main cause of her stress now that classes had paused for a little bit. She wrung her hands together under the sleeves of her sweatshirt, trying to relax before the door opened. There wasn’t the usual music playing her typically had blasting to a questionable level when she arrived. It was oddly quiet.

Her heart jumped as she heard the click of the lock, speeding up as the door opened to reveal Harry. Her Harry, with his tousled hair and soft green jumper covering his body with his jeans with a hole in the knee, with a bit of stubble above his lip and littering his chin. With darker circles under her eyes that had her brow furrowing with concern. He looked so pretty, but so exhausted.

“Why didn’t y’use your key?” His voice was soft, not cold like she had halfway expected.

“I…” she looked down at her shoes, kicking slightly at the worn carpet as she tried to not sound pathetic in her response. “I wasn’t sure if I should. It’s been a little weird lately and I just didn’t want to barge in.” Her attempt had failed, the reply sounding even more weak than she had tried to avoid.

“Y/N…” He sighed, opening his arms and pulling her into them. “M’not angry at you. I never was. You don’t have to be afraid to come here.”

This was the shit he had been trying to avoid. He didn’t want to make her feel any less safe or comfortable with him and she had felt like she was out of line if she had used a key he had given her far before. His efforts to try and keep himself normal had failed and she had picked up on his upset. She had looked so unsure and uneasy, the sweatshirt hiding her hands and averting her eyes. Internally he cursed, needing to explain this soon before he burst.

Regardless of the pressing matter, he allowed himself to indulge in the hug. Squeezing her to his body and letting his nose rest against her hair, inhaling the scent of her shampoo and the faint notes of her perfume. He had missed her so fucking much. 4 days. He was the pathetic one, really. It took a moment to pry himself away from her, exhaling as he did so.

“Let’s sit down.”

Settling on the couch, he felt like perhaps he was the one who would get sick. Or his heart would beat out of his chest. Either one that happened first.

“I’m sorry.” Y/N peeped, looking at him with sad eyes. “I know I was harsh with you at the cafe. I didn’t mean to be. I was really mean, Harry. I know I jokingly bully you sometimes but I know I hurt your feelings and it felt so awful to see you get sad like that. I know you said you weren’t angry, but I still hurt you. We haven’t spent full days apart.. Probably since we met, and as much as I know you’re going to deny it, I drove you away. You didn’t even want me to come with you to the cabin.” Y/N cursed herself for feeling a slight burning settling behind her eyes. It wasn’t about her right now. She knows she hurt his feelings, she needed to apologize for that thoroughly. “I should have included you in the study group and not made you feel bad for wanting me around.”

Harry stayed quiet, listening to her as she spoke. It made him feel weird, hearing her be so earnest and apologizing so openly to him. Y/N was a stubborn girl, though she did admit her wrongs, she normally wasn’t wrong. That’s just how it was. His arm rested on the couch, picking at the strings on his throw blanket as she spoke about the study group, an exhale being released through his nose.

“That’s not why I was upset, Y/N.” He said softly as she spoke. “You.. You’re allowed to do things without me. I know I’m clingy, probably a little clingier than you’d prefer, but I was upset because…” his throat felt like it was clamped for a moment, knowing this was going to change the way she looked at him. “It was because you were so quick t’remind me we weren’t actually dating. That I basically didn’t have a claim to you or a right to get jealous. And then i realized you were right. The realization hurt a lot fucking more than I thought. You said it so easily and I think…” He paused again, looking away from her face. Like a coward. “I think it hurt me a lot because, to me, I was reading the way we were as a lot different than you probably were.”

The words stayed floating in between them as Y/N blinked a few times, confusion painting her face. That’s what he had been upset about? Her chest felt tight as she looked at his face, trying to meet his eyes to get more of an explanation of that. What direction had he thought it was going?

“I’m sorry, H.” She whispered. “What… Can you explain to me what you mean, though? What direction?” This was a time she didn’t want to jump to conclusions because she obviously hadn’t been the brightest bulb when it came to figuring out what had actually upset him.

He stayed silent for a moment, breathing out shakily. “I thought… I kind of thought we were on our way to dating. Or we were there, jus’ without the label. I was obviously reading a bit too far deep into it when you weren’t, but it was just easy to fall, I guess.” His voice felt strained, still a bit afraid to look at her face on the chance she was looking at him in pity. “I thought that we were falling into a relationship, that it meant more romantically. You were a lot more affectionate with me than you ever have been and I know we’ve always been really close but it felt so right to me. I was a bit naive and assumed that it was the both of us with real feelings developing but I know it was wrong of me to assume you felt the same without actually talking to you.” It felt like there were knives in his stomach, the nausea being traded with full on pain as he shifted uncomfortably, explaining himself.

“It was so easy to fall for you. You’re just really fucking amazing, Y/N. I’ve always thought that, always thought you were the coolest. It’s why I tried so hard to keep you around. You aren’t someone who lets people into your world the way I felt like you were letting me in. Being touchy with me and not being annoyed with me hanging on you and even initiating cuddling and kisses without sex. It felt like a whole lot more than friends with benefits and I was happy to let it keep going because I thought somehow it was meaning more to you too. But we never defined what it was that friends with benefits actually meant. So I just… made an arse of myself and assumed that it meant you wanted to be with me.” His hand ran through his hair, something he did when he felt a bit exasperated. “I let myself get caught up in it without thinking maybe it meant more to me and somehow, I fell in love with you.”

The whole world stilled for a moment. Y/N froze, eyes widening as she looked at Harry as he finally met her gaze. He couldn’t say it without looking her in the face, he wouldn’t allow himself to do that. She deserved the courtesy of seeing him when he said it. She sucked in a breath, ready to reply but Harry beat her to it.

“I just.. I know its a lot, Y/N. I know you didn’t sign up for that and I tried not to fall in love with you but fucks sake, just spend a day in my shoes. You’re perfect. It was impossible not to fall for you. I swear, I tried because I didn’t want to be in this position. I don’t want to lose you, Y/N. I want to keep you in my life forever.” His eyes glazed over with tears and she swore her heart tore into two. Fuck. Fuck. He had just bared his entire heart to her and was almost crying because he didn't want to lose her. She felt like her brain and heart had melted, the sparkle of hope glimmering bright now that she knew he felt the same.

“I understand you don’t feel the same. I see it now. I just… I can’t keep doing physical stuff with you. I’ll never get over the feelings if I keep going. I know it’s annoying and I’m sorry, Y/N. I still want to be your best friend-”

“Who says I want you to stop?”

Finally, her voice began to work again. Her own eyes glazed up, looking at him with so much warmth that Harry paused his entire speech and blinked a few times. He wanted to think he heard correctly but he felt himself reboot, buffering even as he looked at her confused.

“What?”

“What if I don’t want you to stop loving me?” her shaky voice echoed in the silent room, bouncing off the ears. “What if you’re a silly man and I’m a mean, cowardly woman and I don’t want to stop being intimate? What if I want the exact same thing and have felt the exact same way, but you’re much braver than I am with admitting your feelings?” Her eyes bore into his.

Harry felt like his world had tilted on its axis. He was silent for a moment, trying to make sure he hadn’t just hallucinated hearing those words from her as she shifted closer to him. He hadn’t accounted for this reaction. So sure, so positive that he had been one sided pining since the incident that he had lost almost all hope- only for her to bring that assumption crashing down and breaking like porcelain plates.

“You….” He swallowed, throat bobbing as he looked at her with confusion. “You do?” His voice trembled a bit in disbelief, so hesitant to let the sparks of hope ignite the flames that had previously been smoldered in his chest. This had been the one outcome he hadn’t allowed himself to think about. If he had allowed the hopeful part of him to flourish, he worried that he would have an even hard time accepting what he had thought the truth would be. He wasn’t usually pessimistic but Y/N had seemed to be far too good to be true when he had been knocked out of his smoky bubble he had engulfed himself in.

Y/N’s heart splintered at his disbelief. She had made him feel like she hadn’t loved him back and it was her fault for being so scared, so cowardly. His slightly hesitant gaze made her get up from her spot, climbing on top of his lap.

“Yeah.” She peeped, placing her arms around him for a hug. Clutching him to her, exhaling weakly as she buried her face in his neck. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, H.” Her whimper of an apology had him closing his arms around her, the shock wearing off as she collapsed and rested her weight on top of him. It was only a few moments later that he felt hot tears on his neck, his stomach twisting at the idea of her crying as he cooed softly under his breath.

“No… hey, no. No crying. It’s okay.” He whispered, moving to kiss the side of her head as his hands drew up and down her back in the comforting motions he usually did. She sniffled against him, his body and kind a torn mess of wanting to comfort and console and wanting to celebrate. It almost felt too good to be true.

“It’s not. I hurt your feelings because I was scare n’frustrated and I was a big baby who didn’t want to admit I loved you first and I-“ she was interrupted with Harry gently pulling her back, her breathing catching as she looked at him. His face significantly brighter than it had been when he had opened the door, she blinked and went to reply but was cut off by his mouth.

His plush, pink lips pressing against her slightly chapped ones, holding the back of her neck as she let out a little noise against them. Her brain went fuzzy, melting into the familiar warmth of his kiss, her body lighting up with the hazy glaze that covered it, the heat tingling her belly and the fizziness in her heart that she decided to lean into rather than push away. Lips pulled back only for her to surge forward this time, desperately kissing him and pushing him back against the couch as she had decided she wasn’t done kissing him yet.

“Y’mean it?” He managed to breathe out, a pause in their kissing and heavy breathing giving him an opportunity. “Y’love me?” She nodded, but that wasn’t good enough for him. The grip on the back of her neck tightened. “Tell me. Say it.” He wanted to hear those words he had been positive he wouldn’t fall from the lips he couldn’t get enough of.

“I love you.” She pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth. “Love you.” Another kiss to his jaw. “Love you, love you, I love you, Harry.” The kisses were pressed with the words, his chest squeezing and the candy cane fluff filling his stomach. It was hard to breathe in the best way, like pink smoke laced in love was clogging his throat and the only words he could get out were the ones professing it.

“Love you. I love you, Y/N.” He smiled, nose brushing against hers. “I have for a long fucking time and I… I shouldn’t have disappeared but I was so confident you didn’t feel the same-“

“I did. I was just being stupid and scared and wanted to remind myself. I got too excited when you were acting possessive and I was reminding myself that we weren’t dating and… I thought you were being hot. I loved that you got jealous because it meant you cared about what we had but I was so certain I was making it up and I’d be ruining our friendship… I was terrified. You just said we should fool around and I went and fell in love with you, it wasn’t what you asked for…” she babbled, wanting to make sure he knew that he hadn’t done a single thing wrong.

The explanation actually made sense if she felt anything like he did. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, trying not to overthink things. The relief and happiness was nearly leaking from his pores as he peppered her lips with his own kisses. It would have felt like a dream if he didn't feel his heart pounding out of his own chest even still. This time, though, for a much different reason. The flames had caught the kindling, erupting back into that blaze. Almost to a forest fire level, his giddiness had been contagious.

“Y’love me? For real?” He whispered, cupping her warm cheek as if it could ground him to the moment. Her face leaned into him, nuzzling into the slightly calloused hand like a kitten overly eager for affection as she nodded.

“I love you. For real, for real.” Her smile was watery, sniffling while his thumb brushed her slightly damp skin yet again. “Want to keep doing what we were but I want t’go on dates and hold your hand around and kiss you whenever we want, want to bring you to meet my mom as my boyfriend and I want- I want everything. I’m sorry I’ve been so nervous and silly and I almost ruined it but I was scared. I don’t have to be scared now.” Harry’s gaze itself made her wonder how the fuck she missed it. How she could have possibly thought it was one sided. His eyes were full of love. Of fondness. The man adored her and he didn’t even have to say it out loud. She felt it just being like this.

“This means I’m your boyfriend now, yeah?” he asked after another little kiss, trying to calm his overly excited nerves. This felt lovely. So, so lovely. His whole body was on fire, the bubbles in his guts raising to his chest. “I want to do all of that with you. We should have just talked before getting to this point but I… I’m so happy right now.” He felt his eyes stinging with a different type of tears. They’d been so silly, but it led to this. It had led to their connection and Harry really couldn’t regret that.

His glossy eyes made her coo quietly, her own babying of him commencing as she pressed her lips back to his and feeling the sparks come back into her own belly. “So, so happy. Love you, H. You’re my boyfriend.” She laughed, shaking her head as their noses nudged against each other, relishing in the closeness she was finally granted. “I’m your girlfriend. And we are both very, very stupid.”

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seat-safety-switch · 6 months

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I don't know what it is, but for some reason, I really hate having the city inspector show up. Every time I get an improvement or repair to the house done, I always get nervous that they're going to find something wrong. This, of course, is ridiculous. I didn't do the work. Some other person, who I paid with my missing landlord's credit card, did some professional business-type things with the full expectation it would be inspected.

To make matters worse, something real creepy happened to me the other day. Soon, I would discover exactly why I had such anxiety around allowing a stranger to peer into the innermost guts of my home, and gaze upon the work performed by another.

I had to put in a new hot-water heater. This job could be done by myself, but it would involve getting slightly wet, and it was better to let my absentee landlord, who disappeared under mysterious circumstances, improve the equity he has in his house with a much-needed renovation. Besides, I was too busy out in the yard, using a chunk of tree trunk to dislodge the recalcitrant passenger-side motor mount of a 1968 Dart. That's a story for another time; you're here to hear about this Bob Vila-ass homeowner shit.

A technician showed up, riding a relatively primo-looking late-00s (I guessed 2006) Ford E-250 work van with a couple dings on the rear bumper that were evidence of an aggressive attitude towards parallel parking in the urban environment. I don't remember what she looked like. She dropped off a big hot water heater, hooked everything up, then carried the old one off slung over one shoulder. That's when things went weird.

For weeks after, my surveillance network (a bunch of deer cameras I stole from the woods) was constantly tripping with sightings of a mysterious new home invader. When I checked the photos in the morning, all I'd see in the shots were khakis, a city-coloured polo shirt, occasionally a pair of anti-slip, steel-toed low-rise sneakers. Never a clear picture of his face. He'd stick a "sorry we missed you" label to the door, and escape into the night.

When I called the city to complain that home inspections should not be done at 3 am, they told me that the inspector by that name had died long ago. I started to get really freaked out, which I guess is a common reaction, because the municipal help-line technician went on to explain.

"We're really short on staff, so we've been getting some of our inspections performed by the living dead. Keeps the pension payments down, too. Don't tell the union."

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hbyrde36 · 9 months

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Shelter in Place (Pt. 1 of 2)

a Steddie fic AO3 link

Written for @thefreakandthehair - Lex’s Spicy Six Summer Challenge!

My prompt was : Hurricane

WC: 6,648 Rating: E (for smut in pt. 2)

Summary:

When a major Hurricane is projected to hit Hawkins (technically it’s more like the remnants of a hurricane, but the residents of Hawkins don’t really know the difference or care), Dustin is worried about his new friend and DM, Eddie Munson, who lives in a trailer, a structure not known for its resilience against severe weather. He invites the older boy to ride the storm out with him and his mom at home, unaware that she has made arrangements for them to stay with family that live far away from the storm's trajectory. Dustin doesn’t want to leave his friend high and dry, enter everyone’s favorite babysitter: Steve Harrington.

Notes: Yes, there really was a hurricane called Bob in 1979. Not Robert. BOB. (followed closely by tropical storm Claudette, both made at least some sort of appearance in or near indiana.)

I had to do a quick google search to make sure hurricanes even happened in that area of the country. They do, sort of, but only like every 7-10 years. I live in a coastal town and we get at least one hurricane a year and it just did not occur to me that this is not a thing in some places🙈.

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Steve was nearing the end of his shift at family video, alone because Robin could only work part time during the school year, when Dustin called.

He sighed into the telephone, leaning heavily on the counter as he listened to the kid prattle on at 100 miles an hour about some kind of emergency . Steve had panicked for a second, until Dustin explained that it wasn’t a code-red emergency, just a regular mundane one. He could have cried in relief. It’d only been a little over two months since their last run-in with the Upside-Down, and if he was honest with himself, he still wasn’t 100% back to normal from Starcourt yet. He wasn’t sure he ever would be.

Dustin proceeded to go on and on about his new best friend and fellow D&D nerd, Eddie, and Steve tried to listen, he really did, but he had no idea what the hell any of it had to do with him. Then Henderson finally dropped the bomb.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Are you really asking me to spend the Hurricane babysitting Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson?” Steve sputtered.

“It’s not babysitting, he’s older than you!”

“He is still in high school though.” Steve smugly pointed out.

“Don’t be an asshole, not everyone is good at school.”

Ok, that was..fair, but Steve still didn’t feel like getting roped into this. “Why can’t he stay at your house again?”

“Were you even listening?” Dustin scoffed. “My mom got too nervous, something about a tree falling on the house back in ‘79. She wants us to evacuate and stay with family for a day or two. I already offered Eddie someplace to go, I can’t take it back now! C’mon Steve, the trailer park isn’t safe, that's why Max and her mom are staying at Lucas’, remember?”

Steve tapped the receiver against his forehead and counted to five. This kid and his fucking tone. “He really doesn’t have anywhere else to go?”

He was sure Eddie didn’t like him either, there's no way the guy wanted to be stuck with him alone, for god knew how long, anymore than Steve did.

“No, and please don't tell him I said anything, and don’t laugh, but I think he’s kind of freaked out about the storm.”

Steve softened, in all honesty he was too. “I wouldn’t laugh about something like that, Henderson. I'm not a total dick.”

Steve was 12 when Hurricane Bob made landfall in Hawkins, the first major storm he had ever seen. Being so far from any coast, It wasn’t common for Indiana to experience tropical storms. Typically, they only had to deal with minor bad weather from the remnants of them as they dissipated . He had ridden it out alone, having finally hit the age where his mother deemed him old enough not to need a babysitter overnight, unless she and his father planned to be gone for longer than a weekend. He told himself they would have come home to be with him if only the flights hadn’t been grounded. He knows better now, and even back then, he hadn’t truly believed it.

He'd been prepared to go through this event in much the same way, except now he was grown and could drink himself through the nerves, and the boredom of a power outage, if he wanted to. He would prefer to have company, but the kids needed to be home with their families, Robin was out of town, and Nancy… wasn’t an option. They were fine with each other when the shit hit the fan and all, but they weren't exactly friends. Besides, she was still with Jonathan, even if he was 2,000 miles away with his mom, brother and El. It would just be awkward.

“So, can he stay with you?” Dustin asked again, bringing Steve back to the present. All of the kid’s cocky tone and kidding was gone for the moment. He really was worried about his friend, Steve realized.

“Does he even know it’s my house you're inviting him to? I wasn't exactly a nice guy for most of high school.” Steve was breaking. He would cave. He knew it.

“I'm sure it’ll be fine, we talk about you at Hellfire all the time and he's never said anything. Just give him a chance. Who knows, maybe you’ll come out of this with a friend who’s actually your own age.”

“Hey, I have Robin!” Steve protested.

“You need more than one friend, Steve. I’m gonna call Eddie and tell him the good news. Is it okay if he comes right over?”

He still hadn’t exactly said yes, but they both knew he would.

“Yea.. that’s fine. I get off work in fifteen minutes”

Steve had only just gotten home himself when the doorbell rang. Here we go , he thought.

“You don’t have to do this y’know.” Eddie grumbled the moment the door opened. Somehow making it sound like he’s the one being put out.

Steve groaned internally, cursing Dustin for volunteering him and his house for this. He wanted to agree with the guy, would be happy to slam the door in his face even, but Dustin would be pissed if he didn’t at least try to play nice.

“Come on in, Munson. I’ll show you where you can put your stuff.”

Eddie followed him wordlessly through the foyer and up the stairs, eyes darting around nervously the whole way. He looked so out of place in Steve’s boring upper middle class house, all ripped black jeans, rings glinting on every finger, and a leather jacket. He stood out, demanded to be noticed, just like he always had in school.

Steve showed him the guest room and pointed out the main bathroom down the hall, before ducking into his own room for a sorely needed after work shower. Apart from his gruff greeting, Munson seemed a little more subdued than he had been expecting. He supposed it was a lot, not only the nerves about the impending storm, but being in a strange house with someone he barely knew. He should really take it easy on the guy.

Not long after he’d shut the water off and ran a towel over his sopping hair, there was a knock on Steve’s bedroom door. What could Eddie possibly need already? Couldn’t it wait until he got dressed? He huffed, tying the towel securely across his hips and threw open the door.

Eddie stood in the hall with his arms crossed defensively over his chest, still looking back towards the end of the hall as he spoke.

“I know you’ve led a pretty privileged life here, Harrington, but there's things you’re supposed to do to prepare for a hurricane y’know. Meaning you do them before the bad weather hits. I don’t see a single flashlight, or bucket and…”

He turned mid sentence, trailing off as he finally caught sight of Steve standing in the doorway, dripping wet and in nothing but a towel. Eddie turned bright red and quickly looked away, mumbling apologies. It was ridiculous, Steve thought, it was no different than the locker room at school. Guys saw each other in just a towel all the time, sometimes less. Maybe Eddie was shy or something.

“Give me a few minutes to get some clothes on and we’ll sort it out.” Steve muttered.

Eddie nodded too fast, and too many times. Steve shook his head, backing up to close the door. He may have shut it a little on the harder side, not quite slamming it the way he wanted to, but it was loud enough to signal his annoyance.

As Steve descended the stairs ten minutes later, he remembered what Dustin said, and his own thoughts about Eddie’s predicament. He found the other boy in the kitchen, rooting through the fridge and decided to let it go, and approach the situation with as much kindness as he could muster.

He plastered on his brightest customer service smile. “Alright, so tell me about this preparation you want to do.”

Eddie did not extend the same courtesy, and gave him nothing but bitchy side-eye in return.

“You should know this stuff, Harrington, it’s survival 101. Basic shit!”

Steve looked skyward, praying for patience. “Okay, we’ve established that I'm an idiot. Why don’t we move on from that for now, and you just tell me what we should be doing?” He was proud of himself for saying it very evenly, and with hopefully no indication of how irritated he truly was.

Eddie hummed, considering him for a moment. “Fine.”

He grabbed Steve by the wrist and pulled him towards the back door, pointing through the glass. “All that shit out there? The chairs, the table, the goddamned potted plants? Projectiles, all of them. They need to get put away in a shed or secured or something.”

Steve blinked.

That.

That made perfect sense.

Maybe he was an idiot. He hadn’t even thought about it. All he had done in anticipation of the storm was to stock the fridge with beer. Eddie seemed to see Steve come to the realization, and his frosty demeanor thawed slightly.

“Why don’t you take care of the outside and I'll start filling the bathtubs with water. Do you have any buckets?”

“In the garage, under the workbench. What’s that for?” He was genuinely curious now.

“If the power goes out, so does your water pump.” Eddie began, matter-of-factly. “You fill the bathtubs so you have some water to wash with and flush toilets. That’s what the buckets are for, easiest way to top up the toilet tank. Speaking of water, we’ll want to fill some pitchers or something from the sink too, for drinking or cooking.”

“Okay. Thanks, um, for explaining all of that.”

Eddie gave him a thin-lipped smile and curt nod before setting off to start his tasks.

They did have a shed, which was mostly empty, Steve came to find. It didn’t take him long to put every loose item from around the outside of the house away. Clouds started rolling in as he finished up, and there was a bit of wind stirring, but nothing crazy yet. Satisfied that he’d done an adequate enough job, he went back in to see how Eddie was making out.

Steve had to give it to the guy, he was not shy. The kitchen looked ransacked. Every drawer and cabinet was wide open. The countertops were littered with random candles of every shape and size, lighters, a few books of matches, batteries, two flashlights, and several large plastic containers which Eddie was already in the process of filling with water and placing in the freezer.

He stared wide-eyed at the display, a little in awe of it. He wasn’t used to being ready for the bad things. Usually disaster struck first, and then Steve scrambled to keep everyone safe. He liked the idea that, at least in this particular scenario, there was something he could do to prevent problems instead of struggling to solve them later.

Eddie finally noticed him and followed his line of sight around the room. He grimaced, looking bashful for the first time. “Sorry, I just..”

“It’s fine, really. Thank you for doing all this.” Steve said, wearing his true smile for the first time. He walked around the room, closing the various doors as he contemplated what to make for dinner. Eddie’s eyes tracked him the whole time, like he was waiting for Steve to snap at him.

He pretended not to notice and dug into the fridge. The decision about food was made easy when he noticed the steaks he had taken out to thaw sitting on a shelf. He’d been too tired to cook after his shift the night before, opting instead to shove a handful of pretzels into his mouth and collapse in front of the T.V.

Steve took the plate of meat out and set it on the counter along with two beers. He popped the tops off the bottles and handed one to Eddie who accepted it with a blank stare.

He pulled the big cast iron pan off the rack and placed it on a burner to start heating up while he gathered the rest of his ingredients. He lined up the butter and herbs to the side, so they’d be ready when he was. There were still a few pre-cooked potatoes left over from earlier in the week, so he got those out as well and started a second pan on the stove to warm them up. He didn’t feel like fussing with a vegetable so…

“Okay, what the fuck is happening right now?!” Eddie snapped, interrupting Steve’s train of thought.

“Hmm?” Steve hummed, beer bottle pressed against his lips.

Eddie gestured in his general direction, as if it was obvious.

“Um, cooking? Shit, do you not eat red meat? I should have asked, I can figure something else out if..”

“Cut the crap, Harrington!” Eddie shouted. “I bossed you around, made a huge mess in your kitchen, hell, I've been outright rude to you since the moment I walked through the door and you haven't said jack about it! You thanked me, twice! What gives? Why are you being so nice? You’re supposed to be an asshole!”

“Oh. I’m not.. I mean, I'm trying not to be that guy anymore.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes. “Even if that were true, like I said, I know I've been a dick. You’d be well within the rules of polite society, or whatever the fuck, to call me out on it.”

“Honestly, man, I know you’re in kind of a weird situation being here, and I was just trying to give you a break.”

“Oh.”

Eddie was quiet and still for a long moment before abruptly upending his beer, drinking it all in one go before immediately swapping it for a full one.

Steve snorted. “You okay?”

“Fine, just, y’know, having my entire world view turned upside down. Not something I wanna deal with sober.”

Steve laughed a little harder than the situation probably deserved, but Eddie had, albeit inadvertently, made the most ironic choice of words. If the guy only knew.

Eddie pulled himself up to sit on the counter, watching intently as Steve tossed their steaks into the now screaming hot pan.

“Where'd you learn to cook?” Eddie asked. The, be cause didn’t your rich-boy mommy always cook for you , went unsaid. The other boy’s version of being nice, Steve assumed.

“Trial and error mostly, and don’t tell anyone, but I watch a lot of Julia Child reruns.” Steve grinned and threw a wink over his shoulder.

Eddie sucked in a small breath and his cheeks turned the most adorable shade of pink. It reminded Steve of how the girls at school used to look when he’d flirt, before he’d lost his touch anyway. Wait, why was he thinking the word adorable in the same sentence as Eddie Munson?

Steve shook himself and turned his attention back to the stove, concentrating on not overcooking anything, instead of trying to figure out why he was suddenly so nervous.

As they sat at the dining table and ate together, Steve kept having the strangest feeling that this was a little like a first date. He didn’t know what was wrong with him today. This was Eddie Munson, he barely knew the guy, and they did not like each other. Except, maybe now they were getting over that? Also, Eddie was a guy, and although Robin coming out to him earlier this summer had opened his eyes more to the possibility that some people weren’t straight, he just didn’t see that for himself.

“So, how did King Steve wind up tethered to a gaggle of middle schoolers anyway?”

“Former King.” Steve corrected, but not unkindly. “Babysitting, sort of. Not that they need that anymore but, yeah.”

“Why’d you stick around?”

Steve shrugged “They’re good kids. Dustin’s like a little brother to me.”

Eddie chuckled. “I get that. There’s just something about him that makes you want to take care of him.”

“I know right!? It’s the eyes or something, like he’s a lost puppy.”

“Oh he would hate that comparison. You’re not wrong though.” Eddie agreed, pointing at Steve with his fork.

“How are they handling being freshman? I remember it being rough even for me and I wasn't..” Steve cut himself off, realizing too late that he was about to put his foot in his mouth.

“A nerd?” Eddie finished for him with a raised eyebrow.

Steve winced. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, Harrington, we know what we are.” Eddie grinned. “I think your boys are doing alright, for what it’s worth I'm keeping an eye on them.”

Steve smiled, it was worth a lot actually. The more he got to know Eddie, the gladder he was that the kids had found him.

“You said boys, does that mean Lucas wasn’t able to get Max to join your game?” Steve asked.

“Is that the angry red-head he’s always pining over?”

“That would be the one.”

Eddie frowned. “No, she’s not in Hellfire, but she is my neighbor. Is Max one of your kids too?”

“Not that she’d ever admit it but, yea. She’s had a rough couple months. You remember Billy Hargrove?”

“Of course I remember that cocky prick. Not to speak ill of the dead or anything. why?”

“He was Max’s step brother.” Steve explained. “They didn’t like each other much, so it’s complicated, but I’ve been worried about her.”

“Damn. That’s tough. I’ll see what I can do to look out for her around the trailer park.”

“Thanks.”

By the time they finished up dinner it had started raining, and the wind was really picking up speed. Steve could feel himself getting tense. It didn’t matter that he had faced far scarier things than this, he still had to keep reminding himself that it would be okay. He was an adult now and he wasn’t alone.

He was pretty sure Eddie was having some of the same anxiety and was just trying to hide it. What they needed was a distraction. They might as well make use of the electricity while they still had it.

“I brought a few movies home from work, they’re in a bag by the front door. You wanna pick something and I'll grab a couple more beers?” Steve asked, as he cleared their plates.

Eddie groaned. “Fine, but there’d better be something besides Fast Times or The Breakfast Club.”

“Okay first of all, The Breakfast Club just came out on tape, it’ll be weeks before I can get my hands on it, and what’s wrong with Fast Times?! It’s a classic!”

Eddie just shook his head and went off in search of the bag.

They met back up in the living room a few minutes later. Eddie was pulling videos out of the bag, a stunned look on his face.

“Okay, I can admit that maybe you don’t have completely abysmal taste in movies. I mean, Footloose isn’t exactly my thing, but who can resist Kevin Bacon? And all three Star Wars? Steve, you're practically begging me to have a marathon and I can't resist.”

“I’ve actually only seen the one, but I liked it a lot.” Steve admitted. “Dustin’s been on me to watch them all, so I figured this was as good a time as any, at least until the power goes out.”

“It pains me to ask, but which one have you seen? Please don’t say..”

“The one with the teddy bears!” Steve said gleefully, knowing exactly what he was doing.

Eddie raked a hand over his face. “Forget everything I said before, you are the absolute worst.”

Steve tossed a pillow at him. Eddie fell dramatically off the couch and the two of them burst into giggles like children. A warmth started to grow in Steve’s chest. Maybe Dustin was right, maybe he would come out of this with a friend.

They made it through the first movie and another six pack before Steve called for a break. The storm was now fully raging outside, the wind strong enough to rattle the windows and the T.V. was no longer providing enough distraction. Eddie agreed and started looking through the board games hidden in a cabinet next to the entertainment center.

“This is the one!” Eddie exclaimed triumphantly, returning to the couch with his choice.

“Battleship?” Steve questioned.

“What’s wrong with Battleship?!”

“Nothing at all. I was expecting you to make me play scrabble or something I would be equally terrible at.”

Eddie beamed. “This is way more fun, especially if you provide your own sound effects.”

They took a few minutes to place their boats. True to form, Eddie made a big show out of ensuring that Steve didn’t peek, placing a half folded checkerboard on the table between them as a privacy screen. Although Steve was pretty sure he only did it to make him laugh.

After a few misses (both of them), and a hit (Steve), Eddie became unusually quiet. Since they had broken the ice in the kitchen, he had been keeping up a pretty regular stream of chatter, even during the movie, peppering in fun facts and trivia. Which, come to think of it, usually bothers Steve when Dustin does it, but for some reason with Eddie he didn’t seem to mind.

He was about to ask if anything was wrong, when Eddie finally spoke up.

“Hey, um, I just wanted to thank you for letting me stay here. Sorry, I should have said that hours ago, but I was too busy being a jerk.”

“It’s fine. You had every reason to think I was still the same asshole I used to be.”

“It’s not that, well, it was a little bit that, but also - I don’t know if you remember ‘79? I had just moved here to live with my uncle Wayne not long before, and he got stuck at work when the storm hit. He couldn’t even call to tell me what was going on because the phone lines were knocked out almost right away. I know it was scary for a lot of people but being in a shitty fragile trailer for it, and all alone, as a kid? It was fucking terrifying. So, thanks.”

Steve felt his eyes well up a bit, imagining little 13 year old Eddie all the way across town from 12 year old Steve, completely unknown to each other, but sharing such a similar experience nonetheless. Without thinking, he placed his hand over Eddie’s where it sat on the table, and squeezed.

“I remember. My parents were away then too, like they are now. The wind was so loud, sometimes it would whistle through the attic. I remember thinking it sounded like there were ghosts having a party up there. I hid in my closet with a toy flashlight the whole night. Believe me when I say, I'm glad you’re here.”

It was Steve’s turn to blush for once when he realized their hands were still touching. He took his hand back slowly and cleared his throat. Eddie did the same, hands twisting together to play with his rings.

“I think that’s why I was so intense earlier. When Wayne finally got home and saw how freaked out I was, he took the time to explain what to do if it ever happened again. I guess I really latched onto that lesson.”

Thunder cracked suddenly and loudly in the distance, making both of them jump, and breaking whatever somber spell had fallen over them with a fit of nervous laughter.

For over an hour they went round after round, as the rain continued to beat against the windows, and Steve couldn’t believe how much fun he was having playing a dumb kids game. While they did, Eddie told him about how he’d met the boys on the first day of school. How he’d noticed Dustin first, because of his Weird Al t-shirt, the one Steve had tried to talk him out of but the kid insisted was cool. The way he knew instantly that he would be taking him and the others under his wing.

Steve shared too, though he had to skirt the truth quite a bit. He talked about showing up at Nancy’s with flowers ready to apologize for something he didn’t even do, when he got cut off by Dustin and roped into looking for his missing cat.

“It was all downhill from there. Suddenly I'm chauffeuring 6 kids to the arcade every Saturday and giving hair tips before the snow ball dance.”

“No shit? That kid really must be something if ‘the hair’ was willing to give up his secrets.”

One minute they were laughing and sharing a smile over the game board, and the next, the lights blinked, sending Steve hurtling straight back to that night in the Byers living room, the first time he’d been forced to fight for his life.

Steve froze, unable to reconcile the reality in front of him and his memories for a brief moment. The lights flickered a few more times and he snapped back to the present, rushing, not to the kitchen where all the candles and flashlights were (where Eddie went), but to the front door where he kept his nail bat hidden in an umbrella stand. He made it back to the living room, heart pounding and breath coming in short gasps, at the same time Eddie did. The other boy’s arms were full of candles and the two flashlights. Their eyes met across the small space for only a second before the lights finally went out for good.

The next thing Steve was aware of was Eddie’s voice trying to talk him down from what he slowly realized was a panic attack.

“You need to relax, Steve, you're hyperventilating. Take a deep breath. Come on, breathe with me slow, in and out.” Eddie spoke from a few feet away, hands out in front of him, as if he felt the need to show they were empty. Steve didn’t understand, but he did his best to follow the directions, finding it difficult to stay focused.

Eddie’s gaze kept flicking from Steve’s face to his right hand, and back again. He looked worried. Steve didn’t like that, he preferred it when the other boy smiled at him. He followed the path of Eddie's eyes when he could, and finally realized the problem.

He dropped the bat instantly and stepped away from it, wrapping his arms tightly around himself as he once again tried to breathe normally.

Eddie approached then, using gentle hands to guide Steve back to the couch. He must have finally felt safe now that Steve had dropped his literal weapon!! Oh god, what the fuck had he been thinking? The more he leveled out the more embarrassed he felt. How was he ever going to explain this? Eddie must think he’s a total psychopath now.

The room around them glowed with the light of a dozen or more candles. When had Eddie managed that? Steve couldn’t remember.

When he finally caught his breath and the shaking in his body had subsided, Steve dropped his head into his hands. Everything was fine, everyone was fine. He shoved down the need to race upstairs and find the walkie talkie Dustin had given him.

“Mind telling me what that was all about?” Eddie finally asked.

“Nothing!” Steve snapped, immediately regretting it.

“See, Harrington, here’s the thing. People don’t usually react that way to lights blinking and shit. Normally, I'd let the lie go, because we don’t exactly know each other that well, but, explain to me why I saw Dustin, Mike, and Lucas react almost the same goddamn way when the lights were on the fritz at the school last week? Those three were so on edge that day, I thought they were gonna piss themselves when their characters stumbled across a demogorgon.”

At the mention of the monster he had just been thinking about, Steve snapped his head up to look at Eddie. He expected to find annoyance, or even anger on the other boy’s face, but all he saw was concern. Steve hadn’t known about the incident at school, none of the kids told him. He assumed they were coping better than he was, that maybe because they were so young they were able to bounce back, but it sounds like they have all just been pretending too.

He didn’t realize he was crying silent tears until Eddie laid a hand on his shoulder. At the contact, the dam broke, and a sob was torn from Steve's chest. He felt, more than saw, Eddie's arms wrap around him, holding him tight, and sagged into the embrace. He’s only ever let it all out like this with Robin, and that was different. She’d been there with him in the trenches, at least this last time. She understood. Eddie didn’t even know him before today, not really, but still he was there and really seemed to care. Steve wasn’t used to that.

“What happened to all of you?” Eddie asked, whispering the question into his hair.

Even if he wanted to, Steve couldn't tell him. They signed paperwork, threats were made. Though, did he really need to be worried about that still? The lab didn’t have much of a presence in Hawkins anymore, and after Joyce blew up the gate at Starcourt, it seemed like this whole Upside-Down mess might finally be done for good.

Steve realized with a start that he’s trying to talk himself into it, he wants to tell Eddie, but he’s so scared. It’s not even about the NDA’s anymore, but about opening himself up to another person and being rejected for it. He doesn’t know why he's comparing this tentative friendship with Eddie to when he dated Nancy. It’s not the same, of course it’s not, but still, he remembers how refusing to talk about what happened, how pretending everything was okay, was a big part of what ruined their relationship, and he doesn’t want that to happen here. Still, he hesitated.

“We’re not supposed to talk about it.” Steve answered, pulling back from the hug, though he didn’t really want to.

“You may not know this about me, Harrington, but I'm pretty good at keeping secrets.”

“I think, I would actually really like to talk about it if I could. The only people I have now are the kids, but it feels wrong to burden them with that. I mean, I have Robin but..”

“Buckley too?”

“Yea.”

“Is that why you two are attached at the hip all of the sudden? Some kind of trauma bond?”

Steve nodded, keeping his mouth firmly closed. It was taking everything he had not to spill his guts when he looked into the other boy’s deep brown eyes. How was Eddie having this effect on him?

Eddie considered him for a long time before finally nodding to himself and blowing out a long breath. “I can’t believe I'm going to offer this, but what if I tell you something of mine, one of my secrets, first. Then you’ll have leverage or whatever, to prove I won't tell anyone what you tell me?”

Honestly, Steve was more concerned about Eddie not believing him than about him blabbing, but it’s too good an offer to refuse, and now he’s desperate to know what Eddie's secret is.

“Ok.”

“Now, I’m only telling you this because if you are as close to Buckley as I think you are, you’ll be cool with it. But if it's not.. cool, please just dont tell anyone, ok? You can kick me out or whatever, but I'm not really looking to get murdered before my 21st birthday." Eddie looked nervous suddenly, and it filled Steve with guilt. He should stop him, tell him he doesn’t have to say this, whatever it is.

“I’m gay.” Eddie tossed it out there and very clearly seemed to be bracing himself for the worst.

Steve gaped at first, but pulled himself together quickly, folding his arms around Eddie the same way he had just done for him. “That’s…really great, man. Thank you for telling me.”

Eddie relaxed in his hold, and Steve decided he wouldn't let go first.

Eventually, Eddie pulled back with a smirk. “So, it's great, huh?”

Steve rolled his eyes, but he knew if there was more light in the room Eddie would be able to see that he was blushing furiously.

“I can’t believe you told me that just to make me feel comfortable sharing. I don’t know what to say.” Steve admitted.

Eddie shrugged. “I figured it was a big enough thing that you would accept it in return for telling me what your deal is. Besides, I was pretty sure I could trust you.”

“You can.” Steve quickly assured him.

“So, tell me.”

Steve’s stomach dropped. He’d never given the whole spiel alone before, or really at all. After her baptism by fire, he’d slowly told Robin about their previous battles in bits and pieces, whenever they shared a sleepless night, and even then, Dustin had come along later and filled in some of the gaps.

“You might not believe me.” It probably sounded like bullshit, or like he was trying to get out of their agreement, but Steve had to say it.

Eddie was not deterred. “Try me.”

There’s nowhere to start but the beginning, Steve thought, and took a deep breath.

“Do you remember when Will Byers went missing a couple years ago?”

“Of course. The boys talk about him almost as much as they talk about you. He moved to California right?”

“Yeah. We’ll get to that, but there's a lot to cover before that part of the story.”

Eddie leaned back into the couch, getting comfortable and waving a hand to encourage Steve to carry on.

He began in fits and starts, and confused the timeline at least once when he described the events of 1983, but the longer he spoke the easier it came. Eddie was attentive, but didn’t ask any questions, and didn't interrupt until he mentioned the fight with Billy Hargrove when he defended Lucas, and even then he only gasped. Eddie patiently let Steve get his story out however he needed to. When he got to Starcourt, and the torture he endured at the hands of the Russians, he heard Eddie sniffle and looked up to see tears shining in the other boy’s eyes. Eddie reached out for Steve's hand, and didn't let go.

“El took it really hard. Hopper had really just become her dad and then she lost him. Joyce took her in and moved the four of them to California for a fresh start. It’s hard to have them so far away, for the kids especially, but I know Nancy misses Jonathan too. I don’t blame her though, Joyce, she's doing what she can to protect her kids and I can respect that. At this point, I'm just trying to figure out how to live again, for the third time, now that it’s all over.”

When Steve was finally done, Eddie still remained silent. It made him squirm, desperate to know what he was thinking.

“So, on a scale of 1-10, how much of that did you believe?” Steve asked when he couldn't take it anymore.

“Every word.” Eddie said, sounding completely serious.

“What?!”

Eddie turned more fully to face him and took Steve’s other hand, now holding both of them, in both of his. “Steve, you’re traumatized enough that I would have probably believed if for that alone, but honestly the dead give away was the detail. No offense, but I don't believe you are creative enough to have made all of that up, and all the D&D references? There's no way you know that much about the game. No way.”

Steve cracked a smile. “Oh yeah? Is that all?”

Eddie returned the smile but his eyes looked sad. “I remember all those times you got your pretty face bashed in, Harrington. This.. explanation, almost makes more sense than the rumors. Jesus, you’re still carrying some evidence of what was apparently Russian fucking torture. I..”

Steve surged forward abruptly, barreling into him. “Thank you for believing me.”

Eddie laughed, and they were pressed so close together that Steve could feel the low rumble of it in his chest. It made him shiver.

“Henderson is going to be so pissed that I told you.” Steve joked.

“He doesn't have to know that you told me. I was serious before, I can keep a secret.”

Steve shook his head. “It might be good for them to have another adult around who knows. We’re awfully short of them these days.”

“And you're sure it’s…over?”

“Pretty sure, yeah. El doesn’t have her powers anymore, so she can’t open a gate, the lab is gone, and we destroyed the one at Starcourt so…”

Comically, the lights that had been off for over two hours chose that exact moment to flicker on and then off again.

“Well, I'm never going to sleep again.” Eddie declared.

“Welcome to the club, Munson.”

They spent the rest of the night lying together on the couch quietly listening to the wind and the rain. For the first time for Steve, and he suspects for Eddie also, the sound was soothing and not fear-inducing. Their hands had remained clasped long after they were done talking, and as the hour got late, and they sunk further into the couch together, their arms and legs became intertwined too.

At some point, Steve realized Eddie fell asleep. He let himself gaze at the other boy in a way he never would have allowed himself if he was being watched. He looked so pretty like that in the candlelight, face relaxed. Very gently so as not to wake him, Steve pushed a bit of his hair back, admiring the way Eddie's long dark eyelashes brushed his cheek. Something seized in his chest and Steve sucked in a sharp breath. He’s never looked at a guy like this before, never felt this way about another boy. He should probably be freaking out about that a little more than he was, right?

He paused to look inside himself, and tried to drudge up the panic he thought he should feel in this moment, but found very little. He’s liked a lot of people in his life, and felt like he could always find something to love about a person, something beautiful or interesting. It didn’t matter if they were a girl or a boy. He just always assumed when he liked a boy it was in a friendly way. Maybe he was wrong.

He smiled to himself, realizing that Robin was going to be so mad that he’s accepted this new thing about himself so readily and completely without her assistance. Steve looked down again and found Eddie still fast asleep. He leaned down to press the lightest kiss on his forehead, before carefully extracting himself from the couch to blow the candles out. He didn’t want to move but it was too dangerous to fall asleep with them lit. When it was done, he didn’t even consider going up to his bedroom, instead he curled back up beside Eddie on the couch and let out a contented sigh.

And maybe the peace he felt in this moment was temporary, maybe he’ll panic about it later when he does tell Robin what he’s realized, but for right now he’s just happy to lay there, gazing into the face of the pretty boy who, in the course of one evening, had wrapped himself tightly around Steve's heart.

Part 2

#lexssummerfanworkschallenge #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson #stranger things #steve x eddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #steddie

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