giving myself a brazilian wax today right before vacation !! wish me luck fellow homosexuals i’ve never done this before

the clash | iv. london calling

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 2.8k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie, smoking weed, alcohol, mentions of a gwen canon event, mentions of death, lil angst

a/n: nother long one! i can’t wait to make it crazy angsty bc when i tell u i have THOUGHTS 👀 thank you to everyone who’s reading, i’m trying to update it every day, so hopefully i can stick with that schedule! enjoy this chapter, friends :)

now reading: iv. london calling

previous chapter: iii. black planet

next chapter: v. ever fallen in love

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He fixes his watch to open a portal to his world. Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr basically run to get to it. He motions for you to go ahead, and you walk through. Immediately when you step into his room, you’re hit with the smell of weed and incense. You’d be lying if you said you hated it. You glance around. You see drums, another electric and acoustic guitar, empty spray paint cans, spray paint on the walls, stacks of newspapers (all defaced in some way)… it feels very Hobie to say the least. “Now this. This is a livin’ area,” he says, appearing behind you. You shake your head. “So loud, both figuratively and literally. How do you ever get anything done?”

“By being louder than everyone else, obviously,” he responds, and you roll your eyes. “What a way to live,” you remark. “Better than that quiet, dark, and gloomy, way,” he retorts, and you shrug. “If you say so.”

“Hey, Hobie, do you still have the roof all decorated?” Gwen asks and he nods. “Course I do. I own the place, head on up,” he jerks his head upwards, and Gwen turns to Miles and Pavitr with a smirk. “Race ya!”

“Hey no fair! You have been here so many times!” Pavitr yells as Gwen takes off. “Come on, Miles!” you hear her yell. Miles smiles gently and shakes his head before going after the two of them. “He’s so obsessed with her it’s making me sick,” you mumble, and Hobie snorts. “What? Miles and Gwen’s relationship too much for you? You hate love?”

“Love has never done anything but cause me pain. And not the good kind,” you glance at him with a frown, and he raises his eyebrow. Suddenly his eyes get wide. “Oh shit… you had a Gwen canon event.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you respond, and he frowns. “You know, actually talkin’ about that kinda shit is a good way to not sit on it and let it build. You could face some serious problems if you keep doin’ that.”

“Who said I gave a fuck what you think? I didn’t ask for the unneeded advice, alright?” you say, and he narrows his eyes at you. “Oh, right. Forgot I was dealing with a bloody doughnut,” he mumbles and point to the window. “Care to go to the roof and get out of my sight?”

“Sound like the best thing you’ve said since I got here,” you say, leaping out of his window and climbing up the side of the building. While clinging to the wall, you glance out at Hobie’s world. His city looks almost exactly like Night of Yore City, except for the fact that there are a shit ton of fires burning, over half of the buildings look abandoned, the sky is a reddish-orangish hue, and it is so much louder. The name is also vastly different, as his version of NYC is New London. Universal differences get weird and confusing. Nonetheless, you’re intrigued, you turn around, putting your back against the wall and supporting yourself with your hands and feet. The graffitied buildings are a nice touch, you must admit. You snort to yourself when you see a mural of Hobie. If only they knew the asshole behind the mask.

“Now why the hell aren’t you up there with everyone else?” you hear his voice pull you out of your thoughts as he crawls up next to you. You shrug. “I’m a sucker for views, I guess.”

“Well, believe it or not, view is a lot better from the top of the buildin’,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “Can I please just be secluded and observe in peace?”

“Absolutely fuckin’ not. Come on,” he says, starting to walk up the wall. You sigh and lazily roll backwards and up the wall to come to standing and follow him up. When you get to the top of the roof, you see a boombox (blaring punk music, of course) and blankets surrounding a barrel with a fire going in it. Multiple coolers decorate the roof which all look stockpiled full of different beers. “Hey, Hobie, you know that they’re all kids, right?”

“New universe, new rules, love. Drinking age is 16 and up ‘round here, not that I’d give a fuck if it wasn’t anyway. So, sit down, shut up, and drink a damn beer. Maybe you’ll loosen up,” he says, tossing you a random bottle. You roll your eyes and sit down but put the beer to the side.

“Hey, Hobie, do you have any of that–” Miles gets cut off by Hobie tossing him another bottle. “Nice. Thanks, dude,” he says excitedly, cracking the top and taking a drink. Gwen gets her beer of choice, and Pavitr does the same. Hobie, you notice, doesn’t drink anything. “So, what were you guys talking about?” Gwen asks, pointing between the two of you with her bottle. “What?” you ask, and she shrugs. “You guys were alone in Hobie’s for a while and no one died, soooo did you guys finally talk about something you could agree on?”

“We can’t agree on nothin’, Gwen. They were just bein’ their usual self and annoyin’ the shit out of me at any chance they could get,” Hobie says, and you shake your head. “Good to know it worked, mate”

“Stop imitatin’ me, poser.”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

“I’ll make you.”

“Try me, Hobart.”

“Alright, that’s enough of that. What were you guys talking about?” Miles asks, and you and Hobie look at each other. “Just asked where the bathroom was,” you say, and he nods. “Yeah. That’s it.”

You weren’t necessarily ready to reveal you faced the Gwen canon event. Especially not to another Gwen. At least Hobie isn’t enough of a dick to bring it up in front of them. “Oh, yeah, you did change into your everyday clothes. Don’t know how I didn’t notice that,” Gwen states, taking another swig of her beer. You had changed in your apartment after cleaning your wound, but you don’t say anything. Hobie nods at you, and you nod back.

“Why aren’t you drinking anything (Y/n)? Here, try this it’s so good,” Pavitr pushes his bottle toward you, and you shake your head. “I don’t want to drink, but thanks Pavitr,” you say, and he frowns. “Awww.” You smile slightly at how disappointed he sounds. “Well, I want to remember everything you all tell me without it being fuzzy because I was hoping you could let me know a little bit more about all the spider people in Spider Society. I’m still new, you four, Peter B. Parker, and Miguel are the only ones I’ve really met.”

With that, Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr start telling you everything they know. You learn about Jessica Drew, Spider-Man Noir, Peni Parker, and so many more. Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr talk for hours, and since they’re kids, they do not know when to stop drinking. Eventually, the three of them are passed out. Miles is cradling Gwen’s side with his head on her chest as she wraps one of her arms around him, and Pavitr is laying straight on his back, lightly snoring. You giggle softly at the sight. Suddenly the punk music you’ve been listening to for the past however many hours gets softer. You glance over to where it is and see Hobie bent over and turning it down. “Don’t wanna wake ‘em,” he mumbles, walking over to you. The volume of the city has decreased quite a bit, and with the low hum of music coming from the boombox now, his world is actually kind of enjoyable. Though you’d never tell him that. He motions to the skyline, and you turn and look. He was right, as much as you hate to admit it. The view is a lot better from up here.

“Why didn’t you drink anythin’?” he asks, and you shrug. “Didn’t feel like it. Why didn’t you drink anything?” He shrugs and pulls out a rolled cigarette from his vest pocket. “Got somethin’ better.”

“And you didn’t offer any to them?”

“Hey, they can drink here, they don’t need to mess with this shit. ‘Sides I knew they’d be pissed. Gonna have a god-awful hangover tomorrow,” he says, pulling out a lighter. You shake your head. “They can’t mess with your shit, but I can?”

“The two of us are the same age. We’re ‘adults’ or whatever the fuck that means. Are you too stuck up to be ‘round some grass or somethin’?”

“No, Hobie, I don’t give a fuck if you smoke weed. Building manager might, though.”

“Love, I am the building manager. This place is abandoned, so it belongs to me. And you’re not tellin’ me I’m supposed to smoke this myself?” he asks with a sly smirk on his face. You raise your eyebrow at him. “Actually I am.” He groans, putting the joint to his lips and lighting the end of it.

“Do you know how to have any fun?”

“Do you know how to have any–” Before you can finish, he puts his finger over your mouth, and raises the joint to his lips again. He takes a deep breath in, blowing out the excess smoke and glancing at you. “No.”

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

“Don’t care. The answer is no.”

“Have you ever actually tried listening to anything anyone says?” “Nah. I don’t listen to no one. I’m me, and if people don’t like that, good,” he says, taking another drag. He glances over at you and holds the joint out. “Y’sure you don’t want some?”

“You actually want to share with me?”

“I want you to not be as much as a ragin’ fuckwit, so yes,” he blows smoke in your face, and you glare at him. “If I take one hit, will you shut the fuck up about it?”

“Probably not, but it would sure make me happier.” You roll your eyes, and take the joint from him, taking a drag. He watches you. He’d never admit it, but he wishes you weren’t such an asshole. The way you look doing that in the moonlight? Stunning. You pass the joint back to him, some of the smoke coming out of your nose. “Stop staring at me.”

“Just makin’ sure you did it right and didn’t waste my shit,” he says, taking another drag. “I know how to hit a joint, Hobie.”

“Really? Never would have guessed you’d do anything remotely excitin’.”

“Oh, please. You barely know me,” you say, angrier than you probably should be. “Then tell me about yourself, love.”

“Hard pass,” you say, and he groans. “I get the desire to stay anonymous and mysterious, obviously, but come on. Chances are we’re gonna be seein’ each other more than either of us wants to, so just open up a bit,” he says, and you frown. “There’s nothing you need to know.”

“Bullshit.”

“Oh yeah? Then tell me something about you.”

“I killed Norman Osborn with my guitar after defeatin’ him and all of his V.E.N.O.M. forces and successfully led a rebellion against fascism,” he says smugly, “Until those other fuckin’ Nazis showed up, but one day I promise you this world? Will be capitalist and fascist free.”

“No, it won’t. Am I supposed to be impressed?” you ask with a deadpan face. He scoffs. “Damn, you’re a wanker. I’d like to see you try and defeat the V.E.N.O.M. forces. From what I seen your world’s villains are rubbish,” he says and to his surprise, and yours, you laugh. A hint of a smile plays on his features, but you shake your head. “Green Goblin is, you’re right, but... there are others who are much worse. And what the fuck is a venom force? You’re saying that like I should just know what it is.”

“It was a symbiote that– wait, you sayin’ you don’t know what venom is? That’s something every spider-person deals with at some point,” he says, and you shrug. “Guess I haven’t dealt with it yet.”

“Yeah, well, when you do, call me cause you’ll need my help,” he says and you roll your eyes. “I’d rather die than get help from you.”

“I helped you today, love.”

“I could have done that myself,” you retort, and he shakes his head, taking another drag. “I guess I should thank you though.”

“Hmm?”

“For not telling them what we were really talking about,” you say, and he hums. “What they won’t know won’t kill ‘em. But just so you know I was being so serious. Not talkin’ about that shit is more harmful than good,” he says, and you frown. “I’m not much of a talker.”

“Coulda fooled me.”

“Do you ever shut the fuck up,” you groan, and he laughs. He loves pissing you off, might be his favorite thing to do now. But the conversation might actually need to get serious. He may hate you, but he’s Spider-Punk for the people, and you’re apart of that people. He’s there to help, so he may as well try with you.

“Why not?”

“What?”

“Why not? Why won’t you talk about it?” he asks, and you huff. “Because it was my fault, and I don’t want to think about it.”

“Nah, I bet it wasn’t your fault,” he mumbles, taking another drag. You glare at him. “Oh, right, I forgot you were there when their neck snapped after I tried to save them,” you spit, and he glances at you. You can feel that hit starting to affect you, that’s the only reason you said anything about… the incident. Of course, Hobie has good shit, why wouldn’t he. “What were you trying to save them from?” he asks, his voice oddly calm. “The Prowler,” you reply, “He’s the worst of the worst in my universe.” He hums and nods. “Well then, reckon it’s the Prowler’s fault then, innit?”

“What? But I’m the one who couldn’t get to them in time after he–”

“He did it, (Y/n). You did your best, but it ain’t your fault what happened there. That’s what they want you to think. Try and get that through your thick skull, would you?” he says, and you scoff, “They?”

He nods, and you go quiet. He glances over at you as you just sit and stare out at the city. “Stop doin’ ‘at.”

“Doing what?”

“Blamin’ yourself,” he says, taking another long drag. You sigh. “I can’t help it,” you mumble, and he shakes his head. “You can. Just takes time,” he responds. You scoff, “You’d think three years would be enough time.” You look out at his city. It’s so different from yours, but you can still see the beauty in it. And you can see the stars. None of the constellations of your world are here, but the sky is still beautiful. “If you need a place to crash, my couch is very comfortable and has your name written all over it,” Hobie says, and you shake your head. “I should probably just go back to my universe–”

“No way. No dimension hopping under the influence,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “I had one hit,” you say, and he shrugs. “And one hit is enough for you to think you’re goin’ home only to end up in Peter Porker’s shower. You’re stayin’ here tonight.” You roll your eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

“I’m insufferable for watchin’ out for your well-bein’? Okay, sure.”

“I don’t need you to watch out for me. I don’t need anyone,” you hiss, and he scoffs. “Of course you don’t. Too good for everyone else.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“It was implied.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Look who’s talking.”

“Like you wouldn’t say the same thing,” you say, and he shrugs. “You’re right. I would say I don’t need anyone, because I don’t. Especially not a miserable thing like you,” he says, and you frown. “Good.”

“Great.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you.”

The two of you just glare at each other for a bit before he flicks the butt of his joint off the building. “Goin’ to bed. See you tomorrow.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Shut up and follow me back to my place,” he says, getting up and walking down the building. You follow, yawning as you realize just how tired you are. When you get back inside Hobie’s place, he points at the couch. “Lay there, and don’t move until mornin’, got it?”

“I’ll do what I want.”

“Amazin’. Just don’t wake me up, and I won’t give a fuck,” he says, walking into his bedroom and kicking his door shut. You roll your eyes and lay down on his couch. It’s actually surprisingly comfortable, and you find yourself actually dozing off faster than you anticipated. Hobie walks out of his room to get a drink of water and ready to fight you verbally again, only to see you passed out on his couch with literally no blanket or pillow.

He sighs, grabbing a throw blanket off his bed and gently placing it on top of you. In the morning, you wake up before everyone else. You notice the blanket, and know only one person could have done that, but you don’t feel like sticking around to say anything. You just go home. But before you do, you leave a little note saying, ‘didn’t need your sympathy, thanks but no thanks,’ and draw a little middle finger.

He’ll get the hint you appreciated it.

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Spider Lily

(Steve Harrington x Goth!Fem!Reader)

Summary: You can’t stand Steve Harrington, you didn’t like him in highschool during his “King Steve” days and you don’t like him now. But even though you deny it, even to yourself, there’s always been something about him that made your heart beat speed up. When you’re stuck closing with him one night at Family Video… things finally boil over. Wk:4.3k

Warnings: Sliggght King Steve behavior, he’s not as much of an asshole but he is a bit of a player, enemies to (kinda?) lovers, unprotected sex, spanking, a lil bit of choking (ofc, it’s me), hair pulling, dirty talk (a lil bit of taunting), Soulmate AU, the end is kinda angsty but there will be a part 2. 18+MINDI!!

A/N: It’s been a minute since I had the drive to sit down a finish something so quickly, but I felt very inspired by this idea and hopefully it’s gonna help my writers block. I have 2 other bigger stories l’m working on but this came to me and I had to get it out. Shout out to my bbs @reidsbtch @babygorewhore & @bimbobaggins69 for hyping me up on this one. Divider used is by @firefly-graphics.🖤

You roll your eyes as you watch Steve push the cart filled with video tapes down one of the isles of Family Video. Today was one of the unfortunate days that Robin was off and you were stuck closing alone with him. Robin often served as a buffer between the two of you, but when left alone you butted heads constantly. Bickering over who had to do inventory, who was going to count the till, whose turn it was to answer the phone when it rings. It was never ending scoffs and glares, but you always put on a show for the customers, acting civil whenever the store wasn’t empty.

You didn’t hate Steve, but you just couldn’t stand him. He walked around with this aura of arrogance about him, always flirting with girls that came in, always asking them on dates. They almost always said yes, but on multiple occasions you’ve watched those same girls come back a week later, pissed or crying because he hadn’t called. Robin insisted that he “changed” since highschool. Which you couldn’t deny that in some ways he had, but just because he isn’t as big of an asshole now, doesn’t mean he wasn’t still a player. It seemed like he couldn’t let that part of being “King Steve” go.

Steve didn’t hate you, but the fact that you couldn’t stand him drove him crazy. He gets it, he wasn’t exactly the nicest to you in highschool. He tried to apologize. Multiple times. But you shut him down every time. You were constantly throwing passive aggressive comments his way, rolling your eyes, sometimes you gag when he’s asking girls out right in front of them. So he just started giving you the cold shoulder, glaring and scoffing back, immaturely sticking his tongue out at you. He even pulled your hair a few times. To you it felt like he was proving you right, that he really hadn’t changed. But for him, he kind of felt like a school boy with a crush on a girl that couldn’t stand him.

“I can feel you staring, you know.” Steve had stopped the cart in the middle of the horror aisle, he restocked the tapes as he spoke, not even turning to look at you.

“I’m not staring at you Harrington, keep fucking dreaming.” You scoff, throwing a glare his way before turning your back to him, shoving a tape into the VCR and hitting rewind.

“Yeeeaah suuure, your eyes were practically burning a hole in the side of my head.” He chuckled, turning his head to glance at you. Your back was turned to him, the green Family Video vest you both had to wear obstructing his view from the cropped band tee you were wearing underneath it.

He wasn’t exactly sure when his fascination with you started, but he knows it was much longer than he would probably even admit to himself. He was always drawn to you, in a way. Even if he always had the wrong way of showing it. He felt awful about the things he and his friends said to you growing up, calling you a “witch” and knocking your lunch tray out of your hands. One time he just stood by while Carol ripped the book he had seen you reading all week to streads right in front of you. Throwing the ripped pages in your face. Everybody laughed, but Steve didn’t. Not that time. Not when usually you laughed them off, or gave them shit right back, but he watched the tears well in your eyes and the way your lip trembled. When you ran off with those tears starting to pour down your cheeks, part of him wanted to follow you.

“I’m gonna turn the sign off and lock the door, you wanna count the till? I’ll finish up the go backs.”

He didn’t wait for you to answer, knowing it would be some kind of sassy remark. He unhooked his set of keys from his belt loop, pulling the string on the sign to click it off and locking the door. You look over your shoulder at him, you hate how your eyes linger on the way his shoulders look in that dumb polo and how his hands hold the keys. No matter how much you dislike him you can’t deny that he’s gorgeous. He’s not normally your type, but something about Steve has always been attractive to you. And you hate it. It makes him even more unbearable to you.

You start counting the till and you’re midway through the quarters when you hear a loud crash, causing you to jump and drop them all over the ground. Your head whips to the side, your eyes landing on Steve who is picking up the cart he knocked over in the middle of the aisle, most of the tapes were on the floor and it knocked into one of the shelves, causing some of the ones there to drop to the ground as well.

“Steve, what the fuck! That scared the shit out of me!��� You snapped at him as you got down on the ground to pick up the fallen quarters.

“It scared the shit out of you? It scared the shit out of me! It almost fell on my god damn foot!” Steve scoffs as he starts to pick up the tapes. Were you seriously mad at him right now?

He hears the sound of your heavy black boots before he sees you, your shadow casting over him in his crouched position. He looks up at you and almost chokes. Your long black velvet skirt accentuates your curves perfectly, a slit up to your thigh showing off a sliver of skin, your cropped tee that you definitely cut yourself is loose enough that he can see up it slightly, getting a view of slight under boob… you weren’t wearing a bra. The bright fluorescent family video lights shine above you and from this angle it makes you look like an angel dressed in black. Your combat clad booted foot taps on the ground as you cross your arms, glaring down at him.

“What the hell happened? You seriously knocked the cart over?” Your voice was teasing, your lips turned up into a smirk.

“That rug had a folded corner and the wheel got caught, I don’t know why you’re acting like I threw it on the ground or something.” Steve rolled his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that day, standing up to put the tapes back on the shelf. He rests his hands on his hips, his lips set into a hard line as he glares at you. “What is your problem with me, truly?”

“Harrington, you’re joking right?” You laughed, straight up laughed in his face.

“Umm, no? Why the fuck would I be joking? I seriously have tried to be nice to you but no matter what I do you give me a fucking attitude.”

“Oh excuse me, King Steve!! How dare I respect royalty.” You throw your hands up in mock surrender, your eyes widen but that damn smirk doesn’t falter.

“Oh don’t fucking start with that again! You know that’s not who I am anymore, I’ve told you I’m sorry in every way I can possibly think of! I’m sorry I was a fucking dick! But I’m different now! You just - you bring out this side of me. You’re so fucking frustrating!” He runs his hands through his chestnut locks before dragging them down his face, letting out a deep sigh.

“If you’re soooo different why are there different girls coming in here every week whining because you didn’t call them back? Kind of sounds like a dick fucking move to me.”

“Why do you care? You’re constantly bringing that up. Like yeah Robin gives me shit about it but she’s just fucking with me, you’re actually mad. Are you… jealous?”

“Why the fuck would I be jealous Steve? I don’t even fucking like you as a person let alone am I romantically interested in you!!” You were pissed now, jealous? He has some fucking audacity to even think that, but to say it out loud?

“I don’t know, you seem kinda jealous to me. You’re always giving the girls I ask out dirty looks, with this pout on your lips. Also that gagging thing you do, I really would chalk it up to you actually thinking it’s gross but when Stacy came in demanding answers about why I didn’t call… you still glared, but you had this smirk on your lips, instead of a pout…” He takes a few steps closer, only leaving a foot between you. The air feels tense… but in a way it never has before.

“Oh my god, you are so fucking arrogant, Steve Harrington! You do realize not every single girl wants to fall at your feet, right? Grow up! We aren’t in highschool anymore!” You’re talking with your hands, your boot stomping against the ground as you yell at him.

“If we aren’t in highschool anymore than why can't you let this go!? You know I don’t really think that right? There was one girl I never thought wanted me… until right now.” He bites his lip, his eyes wandering your form. He takes a step closer to you so you’re chest to chest, his face is inches from yours and his hazel eyes are staring daggers into yours. But he notices you don’t back away, or push him off, you just glare right back.

“If you’re talking about me, you couldn’t be further off. I haven’t, won’t, and will never want you. You’re a fucking ass.” Your black manicured finger pokes at his chest and he grabs your smaller hand in his large one, holding it in place on his chest.

“Then why aren’t you moving?” You’ve never heard his voice this low and husky and it sent a shiver down your spine against your will.

“I-“ you try to come up with a reason, you really do, but you don’t know why you aren't moving, you just know you don’t want to. No matter how much your mind tries to protest, your body betrays you.

“You what? You don’t have an answer because you know it’s true… I can feel you shaking, baby.” The hand that isn’t holding yours comes up to cup your face, his thumb running over your lips. Baby? Fuck. You shouldn’t love that as much as you do. But right now you feel like you’d do anything to hear him say it again.

“Fuck it.”

You thread your fingers into his hair, pulling his lips against your own into a harsh kiss. You hate to admit that you’ve thought about kissing him before. But in your mind it was always this aggressive anger fueled thing and even though you pulled him into the kiss intending to do just that, the minute your lips touched it became tender. His lips were so soft, and he somehow tasted so sweet, every single nerve in your body felt like it was lit up. You suddenly understood all those cheesy romance movies that talked about “fireworks” when the characters finally kiss. It was the kind of kiss they describe when they teach you about soulmate bounds in school. But Steve couldn’t be your soulmate, could he? There’s no way. You push the thought from your mind for now, letting your body melt into his kiss.

His tongue swipes over your bottom lip and the kiss quickly becomes heated, his hands coming down to grab your hips harshly and yours pulling at his hair. You both moan into the kiss, your bodies pressed closely together, your thighs clenched and his cock starts to harden in his already tight jeans. Your body feels like it’s on fire everywhere he’s touching, those fireworks continuing to go off under your skin. His leg slides between your thighs and you subconsciously grind down on it. Your body searching for any sort of friction.

“Fuck. Stock room. Now.” Steve pulls back from the kiss, his eyes are filled with lust and his breathing is heavy. He uses his grip on your hips to spin you around, pulling your back against his chest and placing a kiss on your neck. “You want that pretty girl? Want me to fuck you?”

You don’t respond with words, you just pull away from him and start walking towards the back, not even sparing him a glance.

As soon as the stockroom door is shut, Steve is on you, harshly grabbing your hips to pull you against him, his mouth feverishly attacking yours. This kiss is different from the first, it’s desperate, hungry. Your arms loop around his shoulders, your hands traveling to the hairs at the nape of his neck and pulling. He moans into the kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth, almost like he’s trying to memorize it.

“Fuck, Steve. I need you.”

You break the kiss, looking up at him with lust filled eyes. He turns you, pushing your back up against one of the shorter shelves. He pushes your best off, one of his hands traveling up your cropped shirt, finding you braless just like he thought he would. He gropes your tit, tweaking your sensitive nipple before moving onto the other one. His lips attack your neck and you’re sure there will be a mark or two you'd have to explain to Robin when you saw her. But right now you didn’t care. You need him everywhere.

“Yeah? You need me now? I thought you couldn’t stand me?”

Steve looked at you with a devilish smirk, his unoccupied hand finding the slit in your skirt, grazing over your upper thigh before traveling behind you to grab a handful of your ass. He ruts against you and you can feel his hard cock through his jeans. You palm him, causing him to groan into your throat, his breath sending tingles down your spine.

“I still can’t stand you Harrington, but right now, I need you to fuck me like you hate me.” You grab him through his jeans, moving your hand up and down his shaft to the best of your ability with the burrier in the way.

“Shit. Fuck. Take this the fuck off then.”

His fingers hook in the waistband of your skirt, the velvet feels soft on his skin and for a fleeting moment he imagines how it might feel against his cheek while he laid in your lap, your fingers in his hair in a more gentle way. He pushes the thought from his mind, giving you a questioning glance, you nod and he immediately pushes your skirt down your hips. It pools around your boots on the floor. He kneels down to pull it from your feet entirely, tossing it to the side.

He takes a moment to admire you. Your ass pressed up against the shelf, your skirt is askew, hanging off your shoulder where you cut the collar to make it more low cut, the bright red lacy thong you’re wearing sits perfectly on your curves, and those god damn platform boots that drive him crazy. Your hairs a bit disheveled and your black painted lips are kiss swollen, some of your shiny black lipgloss smeared around your mouth. You’re so frustratingly beautiful, he just wants to eat you alive. You lean down to take your boots off but Steve stops you, grabbing your wrist to pull you back into a standing position.

“Keep them on” he practically growls at you, sending heat rushing through your whole body. Who would’ve thought King Steve would want to fuck a girl in giant goth boots? His large hands grab you roughly flipping you over so your hips are pressed up against the waist high shelf. He pushes your back down so you're bent over it. Leaving a harsh smack on your ass. “Look at this pretty little ass, bet your pussy is just as pretty, huh?”

His fingers run up your clothed slit, looping in the strings of your panties before pushing them down to your ankles. You hear him taking his shirt off and you peer over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of his bare chest. You hadn’t seen him shirtless since highschool and he had definitely matured. His chest now covered in a patch of dark hair, his shoulders broader, his stomach is a little less toned since he doesn’t play sports anymore but it’s honestly sexier that way to you. A moan leaves your lips when his fingers return to your core, gathering up the wetness between your lips, he brings his slick fingers to your clit, circling it.

“Steeeveee, stop fucking teasing me and do som-“ you’re cut off by a harsh smack on your ass, causing you to jolt forward and moan.

“Quit with the fucking attitude or I’m not giving you shit, I’ll walk out of here right now.” Two more smacks land on your opposite ass cheek before two large fingers are being shoved knuckle deep into your pussy. You’re so wet they slide right in. He immediately finds your sweet spot, rubbing the pads of his fingers against it before thrusting his fingers in and out of you roughly. “You’re awfully wet for someone who can’t stand me baby, maybe you don’t like me, but your pussy does.”

“Fuck - fuck Steve, your fi - fingers are so fucking good.” Your eyes roll back, your hips pushing against his hand on their own accord. No one had ever gotten you so close to the edge this fast, but Steve was making you crumble in mere minutes, on just his thick fingers alone. His thumb comes down to rub quick circles on your clit and you think that’s it, you feel yourself about to fall over the edge when suddenly he pulls his fingers out, leaving you feeling empty. “What the fuck! I was about to cum you asshole!!”

“I thought you wanted me to fuck you like I hate you? Only girls I like get to cum, unless they beg for it.” You hear his belt buckle clinking behind you, and god do you wish you could see his cock right now. It felt so big through his jeans and you know it has to be beautiful. Even though you can’t see it you feel him run his tip through your dripping folds. “I’m gonna fuck you so good, you’ll be begging before you know it. I know you’re gonna say some shit like ‘keep dreaming, Harrington’ but I don’t wanna hear it. I just wanna hear you beg for me.”

You’re prepared to give him a snide come back but it’s erased from your mind when you feel the head of his cock start to slide inside you. He pushes it in and out a few times and for a second you think he’s gonna go slow, you’re about to complain but you’re cut off by the moan that leaves your lips when he shoves his cock halfway inside you in one thrust. He’s big, but the stretch feels so fucking good and you’re so wet that he’s sliding so perfectly inside you. You want to feel all of him, you push your hips back so his cock slides fully inside you. He lets you bounce back against him a few times before he’s grabbing your hips, fucking into you at a brutal pace.

“Oh shit, Steve!” You moan loudly, your hands gripping onto the shelf for purchase as he thrusts into you over and over again. You’re sure your hips will be bruised, from not only the shelf digging into them but also the hard grasp he has on you. The thought of being marked up by him stirs something inside you that you try not to dwell on.

“This pussy feels so fucking good, you’re gripping me so good baby, so fucking tight. Like it was made for me.”

His hand comes up to grab onto your hair, pulling your head until your back is flushed against his chest. The new angle has him hitting deeper than before, his cock hitting your sweet spot over and over again. The hand not in your hair grabs onto your tits harshly, pulling and pinching your nipples as he continues his brutal pace. You’re a moaning mess, drool starting to drip down your chin, and you’re already so close to cumming it’s almost embarrassing.

“Fuuuuck oh my - oh my fucking godddd.” Your eyes roll back as Steve lets go of the grip on your hair, quickly grabbing you by the throat before you can fall forward. His other hand reaches down to your clit, rubbing fast circles on it.

“You’re close already, huh? I can feel it, I can feel your pussy squeezing my cock. You wanna cum? Beg. Beg me to cum, or I’ll stop fucking you.” He growls in your ear, never letting up on his thrusts.

“No - I - I’m - fuck! Just let me cum, don’t be a fucking dick Steve!!” His pace slows, he shoves his cock deep inside you and then stops moving entirely. One hand is still around your throat and the other is pressing down on your clit but no longer moving.

“I said beg. I’ll pull out and jerk off right here in front of you. Now be a good girl and beg me to cum.”

“God fucking damn it. Steve! Fucking please? Please let me cum? Keep fucking me please? Just wanna cum on your big cock! I can’t take it anymore! Please make me cum!” You didn’t want it to come out that whiny, but once you started begging it was like you couldn’t stop. You need him to keep fucking you.

“Good fucking girl, that wasn’t so hard was it?” He releases his grip on your throat pushing on your back so your top half is flat against the shelf again. He grips your hips harshly as he resumes fucking into you harder and faster than before. “This is all you needed to ditch that attitude, huh? Needed to be fucked so good? Put in your place?”

“Yes - yeah - fuuuckkkk feels so fucking good I -“

His fingers find your clit again and that’s it for you. Your orgasm crashes over you like a flood. It racks through your entire body, making you see stars. The feeling of your walls tightening around his cock and the sounds you’re making as your high washes over you sends Steve over the edge too. He cums hard, his cock nestled deep inside you as he fills you.

“Shit. Fuck.” Steve pants, pulling out of you and stepping back a few inches so he can watch his cum drip from your pussy. “Wish I could keep you like this, all fucked out and dripping with my cum. Too cock drunk to give me an attitude.”

You feel his fingers caress your overly sensitive lips, gathering the cum that dripped out, he shoves his fingers inside you before leaning down to pull your panties back up your legs.

“Now you have to go home stuffed full of me, when you take your panties off you won’t be able to help but think of me.” You can hear the smirk in his voice and it makes you roll your eyes. You turn around to face him, giving him a death glare. “Look at me like that all you want, I’m not going to forget you were begging me to cum less than five minutes ago.”

“Oh my god, you’re so annoying.” You roll your eyes again, but this time when you say it you laugh, and there’s a glimmer in your eyes that’s still teasing, but lighter. It gives Steve hope.

“Whaaateeever you say, baby.”

He smirks at you, sending you a wink before turning around to find his discarded shirt. You take a moment to admire his back. Broad and covered in moles that you want to connect with your fingers, maybe even your lips. His jeans fit so perfectly on his ass, and his shoulders… wait. You pause, your mouth dropping open as you catch sight of his shoulder. You almost think your mind is playing tricks on you, you wish it was. But there clear as day on his left upper shoulder are two simple red spider lilies. A mark that matches the one on your ribs exactly. Steve Harrington, King Steve, the bane of your existence… was your soulmate.

This could not be happening. No way. Absolutely not. You grab your skirt, pulling it on in a frenzy. Steve turns to look at you right as you are pulling up the zipper with a panicked look on your face.

“Hey, it’s okay, are you okay? I’m sorry for teasing you I-“

“I gotta go. I - uh - I just gotta go. I’m sorry.”

You can’t even think straight, you can’t be near him right now. You need to think and the smell of him and the way his hands feel on your forearms is clouding your thoughts and you just need to go. You spare him a sad glance before pulling your arms from his grasp. You grab your bag from under the counter and run out of the building towards your car. You slam the door closed once you’re inside, your breathing is labored and your mind feels like someone put it in a blender. You shove the keys in the ignition, regretting your decision to peak back at the building before pulling out. Steve was standing in the front window, a confused look on his face as he watched you pull away. He was beautiful, and frustrating, and he was your goddamn soulmate. Fuck.

kinktober 2023 -> day 27

hate sex - kuroo tetsuro x reader

word count: 2100

warnings: swearing, nsfw, reader is yaku’s sister, both of them are kinda assholes but not really lol

kinktober masterlist

Kuroo Tetsuro was a very talented individual. Because no one had the capacity to piss you off quite like he did.

You should’ve known the minute you walked into your biochem class that he would become the bane of your existence. You wished you had gotten some sort of warning when you chose your major. A sign. A whisper from the gods. Anything at all to stop you in your tracks. But no, you were here now, and you were stuck seeing him in class every time.

If only that was where it stopped. But then you discovered that he was on the college volleyball team with your brother Morisuke and apparently, they were thick as thieves. The nightmare just kept getting worse.

It’s not even that he was a jerk to you or he bullied you. You just thought he was too cocky and loud and the smirk he supported was stupid. Unfortunately, the moment he found out that you didn't like him, he made it his mission to annoy the crap out of you any chance he got.

He would make jokes about your height, or how uptight you were. He would call you dumb under his breath if you got something wrong in class, or would snicker when the teacher corrected you. He had a taunting lilt to his voice when he talked to you, like his mere words were making fun of you. It was embarrassing, and it stung a bit, but mostly it served to make you angry. Morisuke would always tell you to let it go. That Kuroo was a provocative and inflammatory person by nature, but at this point even his voice annoyed you.

“What kind of pleasure does this bring you?” You gritted out, refusing to look up at his stupid grin.

“It tingles me just right, sweets.” He replied.

“Ugh.” You made a disgusted face, giving him a look that hopefully communicated that.

“You are gross.” You responded, turning back to your book. “Now can you please leave? I have a quiz I need to study for.”

Kuroo hummed, as if contemplating your request. He leaned back in his chair, balancing it precariously on its two back legs. They squeaked in the silence of the library, making your cheek twitch.

“Nope.” He popped the ‘p’, running a hand through his already messy hair. “I’m waiting for Yaku, remember?”

“And he told you to meet him here?” You didn’t look up at him.

“No, I told him to meet me here.”

You glared at him. “To purposely annoy me? Is that it? Why can’t you just stay away from me?”

He scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweets.”

You turn to him completely this time. “Then what is it, Kuroo? Why the hell are you obsessed with me? How pathetic are you?”

Kuroo stared at you incredulously. “Obsessed with you?”

He leaned forward until his face was inches from yours, eyes narrowed in anger. You nearly reeled back but held yourself in place.

“You’ve got some nerve. Thinking everything is about you. You think I give a single fuck about you? You’re just Yaku’s whiny little sister who thinks the world revolves around her. You’re not worth my time, or anyone else’s. Get your head out of the clouds or you’re going to end up taking a fall you won’t survive.”

You stared at him in shock, watching him gather his bag and water bottle before he stood up and hastily left. You stared at his retreating back, and felt anger burn through you as his words registered in your head.

You ignored the hot tears that stung your eyes.

…………………

The knock on your dorm room door startled you, and you stared at it warily. You contemplated whether you should open it or not. Maybe you could stay quiet and pretend no one was home. You weren't really in any mood to talk to people.

“I know you’re in there. The light is on.”

You nearly groaned, eyes squeezing shut. Anger boiled up in you again, and in a moment of impulse, you rushed to the door, opening it with more force than necessary.

“You've got some nerve.” Your voice shook in anger when you met his golden eyes. “Coming here after the shit you said to me today.”

Kuroo sighed, shoulders slumping. “I came to apologize for that.”

You laughed in disbelief. “What part, Kuroo? Me being whiny or me being pathetic?”

He scowled. “I didn't call you pathetic.”

“You’re getting hung up on the semantics now?!” You shrieked, stepping back to slam the door shut. Kuroo shot his foot out, blocking you from doing so.

“Excuse me? I’m not going to apologize for something I didn't even say!” He stepped inside the room, shutting it behind him so your voices didn't carry into the halls. “In fact, I specifically remember you were the one who called me pathetic. Which you still haven’t apologised for, by the way.”

“Oh my god, I hate you!” You screamed, feeling your face get hot because of how angry you were.

“Trust me, the feeling is mutual!” Kuroo screamed back, stepping forward until he was right in your face. You stiffened at how he was towering over you, his chest heaving and breaths coming heavy and quick. His teeth were clenched, making his jaw tick. Your eyes tracked the movement. You watched a small droplet of sweat run down the side of his face.

You stepped forward until your lips met his.

Kuroo jerked back, looking at you with wide eyes, mouth dropped open in shock. You stared at each other for a few moments, completely silent. Then, the dam broke.

Kuroo grabbed the sides of your face, sealing your lips together in a searing kiss. You moaned into his mouth, giving him the opening to slide his tongue over yours. You backed up until your legs hit your bed, falling back and Kuroo following you down, not breaking the kiss. Your limbs tangled together in a flurry, attempting to rip each other’s clothes off as quickly as you could.

“Can you hurry?” You broke the kiss, glaring at him as you tugged his shirt off.

“Can you shut the fuck up?” He bit back, pulling your sweatpants off your legs.

His lips met yours in the next moment, effectively silencing you except the little moans leaving your lips. His bare body felt heavenly against yours, and for the first time you thanked the lords that he was an athlete.

He broke the kiss again, making his way down your body with his lips. He bit at your right breast, making your breath stutter.

“Of course you would like that.” He chuckled.

“Shut the fuck up, Kuroo. Don’t ruin this-” You dissolved into a moan when he licked over your nipple, biting at it slightly before sucking. You sighed at the feeling.

His hand groped at your other breast, hips grinding down. His crotch pressed between your legs, and the pressure made you whine.

“Hurry up.” You pushed at his boxers, trying to tug them down.

“Say please~” Kuroo smirked up at you. You nearly slapped him.

“Over my dead body.”

Kuroo sighed and lifted himself off your body. He slid off you slightly, making to stand up. “Well, in that case-”

“No!” You sat up, biting your lip, staring at him. You groaned. “God, I hate you.”

Kuroo chuckled. You gasped when his fingers brushed over your clothed core, before hooking a finger into your panties and pulling them off you. His fingertips dipped into your slit. Your breath stuttered.

“Kuroo.” You stared at him, his eyes dark and pupils dilated. His lips parted, tongue peaking out just a little to run over them. His fingers continued their feather-light touch.

“Please,” you gave in.

“Please what, baby?” You whined at the nickname, feeling your core pulse. God, his voice was so husky. You stared at his lips, eyes wandering to his shoulders, his pecs, his abs, to the bulge in his underwear that was hinting at how big he probably was.

“Touch me, Tetsuro.” You whispered. “Please. Touch me, fuck me. You want me to shut the fuck up? Make it happen, then.”

He was on you the next moment, teeth digging into your skin and fingers burying themselves deep in your pussy. You yelped and moaned, spreading your legs more so he could hit deeper. His fingers were so long and delicious, reaching your spot and rubbing against it just right. Within seconds, he had you seeing stars.

“You’re such a brat.” Kuroo bit out, fingers picking up speed instantly. You could barely breathe. Your body jolted under his movements. He was being so rough. “A spoiled little princess. Greedy girl. You’re even letting me fuck you just so you can get off.”

You cried at Kuroo’s words. Fuck. Why was this turning you on so much? You clenched around his fingers, and were met with the sight of his infamous smirk, except this time, it was so much hotter than any time you had seen it before. Kuroo looked like he was enjoying the crap out of this.

“Oh, you love this, don’t you?” He goaded you, curling his fingers until your back was arching off the bed. “Such a slut. What, you got a humiliation kink or something?”

“I’m gonna cum.” You choked out, tears swimming in your vision as your toes curled.

You should've known. This was Kuroo Tetsuro you were with. There’s no way he would let you have anything good. You nearly wailed when he pulled his fingers out, soaking wet with your juices.

“Kuroo!” You cried, tears spilling down your cheeks. “Don’t- why?!”

You didn’t even care that he was witnessing you break down over this. You were just about to have what could have been the most intense orgasm of your life and he denied you it.

“You fucking asshole-”

He shushed you, leaning over and shifting slightly. Something hard prodded at your entrance, before sinking into you in one fluid motion. Your mouth dropped open at the feeling, jaw going slack. He was big, long and oh so hard, and he grazed all the right spots as he slid into you.

Kuroo wiped the tears that soaked your cheeks, brushing his nose against yours in a manner that was almost affectionate. You stared up at him, still dizzy from your almost orgasm a few moments ago. His eyes held a glint that told you tonight was going to be brutal in the best way possible.

And you were right. Kuroo fucked you through three orgasms before he even slowed his pace. You were left a blabbering, bumbling mess by the time his hips stuttered and he emptied himself inside you, warm cum washing over your walls, pushing you through one more orgasm as his unrelenting fingers rubbed at your abused, swollen clit. He didn’t care when you whined at him to stop. He was merciless throughout. It was rough and hot and it made you see stars.

You didn’t even register when his body left yours, or when he came back and ran a washcloth over the mess between your legs. You turned on your side, back sore from all the arching. You were still out of breath as he tugged on his clothes, watching him fix his hair. Well, as fixed as his messy hair could get. Aside from the sweat on his face and his slightly heavy breathing, he seemed unfazed. You would think he was out for a run, not rearranging your guts.

You didn’t realize he was staring at you until a few moments later, when he leaned over to brush your hair off your face. His signature smirk spread over his lips.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’re the best sex I’ve ever had too.”

You scowled as he straightened up, making his way to the door. “What the hell do you mean ‘too’?

He didn’t answer, humming happily to himself as he tugged his shoes on.

“You aren’t the best sex I’ve ever had.” You sat up, feeling your face turn red. He gave you a look that was so smug it made you stiffen in embarrassment. You knew he didn’t believe a word you just said. You also knew that Kuroo’s already humongous ego was about to shoot through the fucking roof.

“You’re not.” You mumbled. Kuroo pulled the door open, still supporting the insufferable smirk on his face, giving you a teasing wink.

“You’re not, Kuroo!” You called behind him as the door clicked shut. Sighing, you flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling and ruminating on everything that had just happened.

Fuck.

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A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!

Every Time You Shine, I’ll Shine For You.

Soooo this was originally going to be full one shot, but I’ve decided since it’s been sitting in my drafts for months, that I’m just going to post it as either an unfinished piece for now. I might try to come up with a second half but for now enjoy this soulmate au ✨

Having a soulmark wasn’t necessary for Steve. Sure, seeing the word- the nickname his soulmate will eventually call him is nice. But it’s not needed, not in his eyes at least.

At the age of five years old, everyone in the world gets a nickname on their wrist. It’s fate telling you your perfect match, that the other half of your soul is out there for you. It’s the ultimate fairytale growing up, that it burns when you hear the nickname said by your soulmate and there’s an instant spark, instant connection. It’s the bedtime story, the ultimate love story and something to wish for.

It’s a wish everyone wants but Steve Harrington.

He has a very good reason to not like the idea of having a “perfect match” out there for you. While he heard the stories and sees the potential in it, he grew up watching his parents be in love without being actual soulmates. Hears stories of their love and ideas of finding love on your own, deciding to show the world that they don’t need fate’s help.

It’s beautiful and he wants that. Wants to make his own story, find his own match. There’s no need for fate to help him.

On his fifth birthday, he watched ‘Dingus’ appear on his wrist, it made him pout while his parents laughed and kiss his head, told him not to worry. That he doesn’t have to be with whoever fate picked for him and joked about only being five.

It eases his five year old mind.

His parents aren’t surprised to watch him grow up to be a true romantic, isn’t surprised to see his love in everything and how having a soul mark doesn’t stop him from having crushes or falling in love.

Life goes on but after some failed relationships and the disaster of a relationship with Nancy; seeing the nickname give him some hope that somewhere out there, there is someone for him. Someone who fate decided is his match, which growing up he hated it.

At eighteen, he really thought he’d already be with the person he’d love forever (and who would love him). But instead of that, he’s single and not at all close to figuring out why fate’s pick for him would call him “dingus” of all things. To top it all of he’s stuck working at the new Scoops Ahoy until he hears back from the colleges he applied too.

The uniform is lame, it’s in the middle of the brand new mall and it’s leaning towards being too cold in the shop and he doesn’t even know his coworker yet, hopefully they’re not expecting him to be some big shot like he was in high school.

Those days are long gone, he’d rather be his lame and hopeless romantic self instead of the asshole keg king he was.

His first week of working is spent being laughed at by ex-teammates, being ignored by his only coworker and failing to get at least a date with someone. It’s not his longest week, but it’s real close.

After a total of three weeks of getting ignored and laughed at by people he flirts with, his coworker, Robin decides enough is enough and- “maybe with this you’ll try harder”

Glancing behind him, she’s standing there with the whiteboard from the back but instead of the random doodles she drew, it looks like a score board with You Rule/You Suck on it.

There’s already three tally marks under ‘You Suck’ and he can’t figure out if it makes him want to laugh or cry, maybe both.

Definitely both.

“At least I’m trying here, you could find your soulmate with flirting!”

Robin rolls her eyes and hangs the board up behind her, “I’d rather suck on a lemon than flirt with guys”

It surprises him for all of three seconds before he rolls his eyes, whatever, he thinks. If she wants to miss the opportunity to find a soulmate, so be it. He’ll continue trying to find love, he doesn’t need whoever fate picked.

The board is definitely mocking him, he thinks several days later. Currently there’s five tally marks under ‘You Suck’ and a big fat nothing under ‘You Rule’. Robin thinks it’s the funniest thing on the planet.

He doesn’t find it funny, he finds it embarrassing and stupid, actually. Really embarrassing, especially when she brings it out when another girl their age walks in. It’s like she’s doing it on purpose.

Which is confusing, she told him explicitly that she does not like him and will only ever tolerate him. So, her practically chasing people away doesn’t make sense.

Her loud crackle of a laugh starts as his head nearly hits the counter, “That’s another one for the you suck column! Zero for the you rule, popeye!”

Standing up he turns around with a glare, “yeah I can read!”

“You sure about that one, Dingus?”

His wrist burns and he can’t stop his eyes from going wide. There’s no way, absolutely no way. This is a fluke, she must have seen his mark one day. That’s why his soulmate mate, fate’s pick, is his co-worker.

His disbelief and discomfort most show on his face because Robin shifts on her feet, “I’m uh, sorry. If I took that too far, really-uh I don’t think that way about you and, and- this is was” she looks uncomfortable now, tripping over her words.

Opening his mouth to calm her down, he find that his words are gone. The disbelief stopping him. He quickly shuts it and looks away from her. The shop is completely empty. When did that happen?

“Steve- I really didn’t mean to be well, mean.”

All he can do is nod back, “no, uh, I get it. Really- uh. It’s fine.”

How exactly is he supposed to do this? He’s never once called her a nickname! Unless she was his but he isn’t hers? He doesn’t know. Either way he’s still a little disappointed.

“You sure? Because uh, you’re looking a little pale there”

A laugh bubbles up and before he realizes it he’s on the ground with his back against the counter and tears on his face, “ye-yeah. Sorry.”

He hears her move around and then there’s a foot bumping his, he moves his head to look at her.

“We’re currently low on everything, did you know that? It’s unbelievable, just wiped clean.” Robin explains with amusement dancing on her face, “Scoops Ahoy is officially closed for the day”

That surprises a laugh out of him as tries to loosen the tension that built up, moving his arms he puts his chin on his knee, Robin copies him. They’re just looking at each other, comfortable in this silence.

“Sooo”

“Look-”

Their eyes meet and both burst out laughing. This feels different, at least for Steve. There’s something soothing coursing through him now, he never felt on edge with Robin but he wasn’t always this comfortable either. A smile spreading on his face, he didn’t know about this feeling when you meet your soulmate.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

He snorts, “they might be worth more, Birdie”

Robin gasps and he looks at her, but her eyes are wide and locked on her wrist. He follows her look and he can’t exactly see what she’s looking at but he knows it’s her soul mark.

They really are soulmates.

This is where I’d put the continuation… if I had the idea for it! (Said in that fairlyodd parents meme)

Anyway! If this brought you some inspiration, you can totally take whatever piece you want and write something! But please know I had this ending up as Steddie with side of Rockie (Vickie&Robin)

Permanent taglist: @spectrum-spectre @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @grimmfitzz @estrellami-1 @cartercaptainofthemoon @bookworm0690 @strangersteddierthings

Moans and Elevator Music

SUMMARY: Y/N is in a rush for an interview at her new job, but her luck gives out when the elevators shut down due to a sudden power outage. At least she isn’t alone.

WORD COUNT: 8.4k

WARNINGS: heavy sexual content ;)

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slow burn at first. sorry i got carried away with the actual story ahah

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I wasn’t nervous, I was fucking scared shitless. I've heard numerous stories from people who were turned down a job the moment they stepped into his office. He wasn’t playing around, and he wasn’t afraid to make you feel like an utter fool. It was considered a reckless move to follow in their footsteps and apply to work under him. But I wanted that job so bad that I was ready to buy a pair of clown shoes.

Harry Styles was the CEO of Pleasing, and the biggest asshole known to man. I haven’t done any research on him because the less I knew about his asshole-y-ness, the better. I didn’t even want to know what the man looked like. It was best if I went into my interview with a clear, open-minded head about my potential new boss.

My interview was at 12:45, and I was outside the building half an hour earlier to ease my overwhelming thoughts of being late. I sat in my car and practiced how I’d sit across from him, the professionalism in my tone, the polite stretch of my smile, etc. It was pathetic but I was scared shitless.

When 12:30 hit, I decided to head inside so I had approximately fifteen minutes to find his office and, hopefully, have a minute or two to spare. Maybe he’d find it impressive and wouldn’t fire me as soon as I walked through the doors like I’ve heard happen to many people.

I was wearing a business casual outfit in hopes of showing off my personality and how I didn’t overthink things, no matter the circumstances. It was simple, it was neat, it was professional, it was perfect.

As I walked through the glass doors of the Pleasing building in New York for the first time, I realized how much it replicated the brand. It was colorful but not overpowering. Stone backdrops aligned with bright—due to the glass panels all along the front of the building—white wallpaper took over the main lobby. It was the furniture and different fonts of Pleasing that brought out the colors.

“Whoa,” I gasped with a wide smile. It would be amazing to walk into that building every day.

“Whoa, indeed,” a voice repeated behind me. I looked over my shoulder to find a tall curly headed man, dressed in black blazer and pants with a pink dress shirt, walking closer to where I stood. “It’s nice in here, right? The best lobby I’ve ever seen. It’s just so welcoming.” I nodded in agreement, subtly staring the man up and down. 

“I love it, a lot actually. These people are lucky to work here all the time,” I sighed, tilting my head up to the high ceilings. I spun around to attempt to make out the pattern that scattered from the ceilings to the pillars holding them afoot. The man took a step closer as my feet twirled me away from him. 

His hands were behind his back as he leaned down to reach my shorter level. Even with heels, his legs stretched him to somewhere around six feet. 

“You don’t work here? I was wondering why I haven’t seen you before. I definitely would’ve remembered you,” The man spoke to me. I finally looked back at him and smiled shyly. I couldn’t tell if that was a hidden compliment, or he just had no idea who the fuck I was.

“Hopefully I’ll be working here soon. That’ll be the dream,” was all the information I gave him. I wasn’t parading the fact I had an interview with the CEO in a few minutes because I could’ve been walking right back through the front entrance jobless and absolutely humiliated. 

The man suddenly smirked at me as he stood straight up again. “Then hopefully I’ll see you again soon.” I nodded in agreement and pulled my gaze away from him in search for the reception desk.

Leaving the man lone, I walked farther into the building and easily found an older woman behind a desk, typing away on her computer. I approached her and waited for her to look up before speaking. I assumed she was doing something important because of her squinted eyes focusing on the screen in front of her. I had the time to wait anyway.

“Thank you for your patience, darling. How are you? What can I do for you?” She finally looked up at me and smiled.

“No worries, and I’m great. It’s actually my first time here and I’m coming in for an interview with Mr. Styles. I just needed to know where his office is?” I explained.

“Oh, let me just check you in real fast,” she went back to her computer and typed away. I used that free time to look around the lobby.

From the reception desk, I noticed another open room off to the side of the lobby. A soft squeal escaped my lips as I realized it was a Pleasing shop for whom I assumed was solely for the employees. They were the only ones in there, using their Pleasing branded tote bags to shop. The walls were a vibrant yellow with a white flower print. I knew I had to go shopping there and get my hands on some of that merchandise.

“Okay, Ms. L/N, I have you checked in, but you are actually a little early so you don’t have to go up right now.”

“Oh, I know. I came early just to make sure I wasn’t late.”

“Mr. Styles likes people with that kind of mindset,” She gave me a thumbs up. “You’re already on the right track.”

I sighed in relief with a nod. 

“You can find Mr. Styles’ office on the top floor, and as you walk down the hall, you can’t miss his glass-stained double doors,” She explained. I thanked her multiple times as I backed away to the elevators. 

The employees that filled the building made themselves obvious through their work attire. The men in colorful dress shirts under their patterned blazers. The women in floral dresses and skirts. Every person’s nails were painted, some with added designs. It was exactly what I wanted to look like.

I sucked in a nervous breath as I realized what was at stake. I had to get hired, I had to get this job. I wanted it so bad. To be surrounded by the brand that took over my life in the last year. Its skin care to makeup to clothing line had me in a literal chokehold.

When I found the elevator corridor, I wasn’t surprised by the ambiance. Bright, quirky, and fun. It had a wide smile taking over my lips. I went to press the upward arrow button in hopes that one of the six elevators opened within the next minute. I knew there were a lot of floors containing a lot of people that were too high in the matriarchy to use the... stairs.

Answering my wishes, a ding and a flash had lit to announce an elevator was on its way to lead me to either my dream or doom. I was beginning to shit bricks. I looked over my shoulder, noticing I was the only one in need for the elevator. 

As the doors slid open, I walked inside and pushed the thirty eighth floor button quickly. Having those few moments alone were more than useful. The wall on the other side of the elevator door had a slim mirror with a sign in cute handwriting that said, ‘You look Pleasing.’ I covered my mouth with the back of my hand to laugh as I stood in front of the mirror and adjusted my outfit.

Right when the doors warned to close, I heard a voice call out, to which I assumed towards me, “Hold the doors!” I suddenly panicked and quickly slotted my hand between the closing doors for them to open back up again. The voice sighed as a familiar face appeared, twisting to his side to walk inside. It was the man from earlier that approached my side to take in the beauty of the building. I would’ve thought he’d be upstairs by then, heading to whatever department he worked at, already. “Thanks, love.”

“No worries,” I shrugged. It was then when I realized the accent. He was British? My thoughts matched my face with a tilt of my head and a slight drop of my jaw. He stared at me confusingly for a moment before looking at the buttons listing all the floors.

His expression only grew more confused as he said, “Top floor, too? What are you doing up there?” I was taken aback by his almost offended tone, like I wasn’t worthy to have any business up there.

“I have a meeting with Mr. Styles,” I answered simply. He ran his hand through his hair as he glared at me. “What?”

“Do you know who that is?” He squinted his eyes at me.

I nodded, “Obviously. He’s the CEO of the company you currently plant your expensively looking shoes on.” I decided to turn away from him and face the closed doors as the elevator lifted us to the top. My fingers fiddled with each other as they worriedly waited for them to suddenly open.

I felt the man, I still hadn’t caught the name of, walk up behind me before shifting to lean against the wall next to me. “Another question then. Have you met him before?” I shook my head, nervously brushing at my skirt. “Okay?”

“Is something wrong?” I glanced at him beside me. 

“Not at all, darling,” He smiled sincerely, stuffing his hands in his pant pockets. “You look great, by the way. Trying to make a good first impression?”

“Something like that,” I gazed down at my outfit and sighed proudly. “I could ask the same thing, though. You look very—” I motioned to his outfit, unable to find the right word.

“Sexy? It’s definitely the eyes, right? Think Styles would be jealous?” He smirked, and I threw my head back to laugh. “I’m surprised he hasn’t made me the public face of his company. Do you know how many more clients we’d get if this face was plastered everywhere?”

I rolled my eyes at his obvious narcissism. “I think you just proved why Mr. Styles doesn’t need you as the public face of Pleasing. Keep dreaming, though,” I teased, patting his shoulder. The man chuckled, swatting my hand away as he stood upright.

Right as he was about to speak, a sudden thud and pause of the elevator caught his words in his throat. The lights strung along the walls of the elevator instantly shut off, leaving us in complete darkness. My instinct had me grabbing the man’s arm and hugging it as I braced for impact. He was on the same page as he wrapped an arm across my collarbone and held my farther shoulder, pulling me against him.

When nothing followed the complete shut down of the elevator, I fluttered my eyes open, but was met with pitch black. Just great. 

The man and I stayed frozen in our spots as I listened to his slow breathing. “What’s happening?” I whispered-asked, not really wanting to know the answer. 

“I think it’s a power outage,” He muttered in an annoyed tone, “Un-fucking-real. How the hell did that happen?” 

I knew he wasn’t asking me, but I was too panicked and frantic to not answer, hoping to get my mind off the fact I was trapped in an elevator, in the dark. “They happen all the time, it’s probably nothing, right? It’ll come back on in a few minutes. Definitely.” 

“Hey, are you okay?” He slowed down his words, moving himself so he was standing in front of me, and both of his hands held my shoulders. I couldn’t see his face and it started to terrify me, making the unfortunate situation more real. I was stuck on a fucking elevator in the pitch black dark.

“Besides having a fear of getting stuck in an elevator and complete darkness, I’m fantastic,” I laughed, copingly. I couldn’t hide in the quiver of my voice that I was on the verge of tears. My day was starting to turn to shit. But at least I wasn’t alone.

I ran my fingers through my hair and let out a hard sigh. The man had let go of my shoulders and walked away as he mumbled incoherent curses under his breath.

“This building isn’t allowed to have power outages. We are too fucking successful and busy as hell to have power outages. This is bullshit,” He started to grumble. I heard his shoes aggressively pace around the wide elevator, back and forth, behind me.

“Fuck,” I whimpered, letting my legs give out as I fell to my knees and sat back on my heels. I covered my eyes and focused on calming down my fast beating heart. “You’re okay, you’re gonna be fine,” I sighed to myself, with a slight laugh in disbelief.

I heard the man approach me again and kneel down in front of me. He gently touched my thighs and rubbed his thumbs against them. “Hey, listen to me. We are gonna be just fine, I promise you that. I’m right here, you’re not alone,” He assured me.

“I’m sorry, I’m trying to stay calm but this is just really fucking unfortunate.” He laughed and hummed in agreement.

We were quiet for a few moments and it started to feel like I was alone, so I reached out for him. My hands laid on top of his own on my thighs. He turned his hands over to hold mine and I sighed in relief.

“I left my phone in my office. I just came downstairs to meet someone for a quick second. Do you have yours?” He suddenly asked.

I widened my eyes and reached into my handbag for my phone. “Why didn’t I think of that? Should we call someone?” I asked, finally able to see the man as his face hit the light of my screen. 

He shook his head. “There’s no reason to. We can’t go anywhere until the power is back on. But they know people are on the elevator, and we are a very busy business, so we have to be up and running as soon as possible,” He explained. I turned on the flash and scanned the elevator, already forgetting what it had looked like.

“That’s a little comforting,” I tried to smile. The man easily returned one and rubbed my shoulder.

“Good,” He nodded, before taking my phone from me to place it in the corner so the whole elevator was lit. We both turned to the back wall to find our shadows crawling on the ceiling. “We have some company.”

“The more the merrier,” I chuckled, pushing my hair behind my ears. 

“That one over there is kind of cute, though. Think she’s single?” He pointed to my shadow with a sly smirk. I darted my eyes to him and laughed. 

“I think she is actually. Think you got the guts to talk to her?”

“Oh yeah, definitely. And she’s totally my type.”

I shrugged, “Maybe you should then. I mean, who could say no to the possible public face of Pleasing?” It was his turn to laugh as he threw his head back.

We both fell silent again and I didn’t realize I was still smiling until my cheeks asked to be relaxed. The man brought his hands up to play with the multiple rings on his fingers as his lips spoke words that didn’t leave his throat. I watched him quietly, hugging myself as the realization of where I was kicked in again.

I turned back around to the front of the elevator and stared at the dead buttons. I started clicking each, falsely hoping one would light up. I glanced over my shoulder at the man to find his back facing me.

I realized that his name was still a mystery to me. He was occupied in his own head so I tapped his back to get his attention. He swiftly turned around and raised his brows at me.

“This might be a weird question to ask right now, but what’s your name?” 

The man chuckled, before answering, “Harry, and no worries, love.”

“Thank you. I’m Y/N,” I blew out a breath. He repeated my name softly before smiling. 

“I like that name a lot, it’s beautiful,” He nodded to himself. “And thank you for joining me in this unfortunate situation, Y/N. I’m grateful to have you here.”

“Same,” I chuckled, “just can’t believe this is happening. I’m supposed to be in a meeting. Not stuck here. The last place I want to be.”

“Hey, wait a minute, I’m not so bad.” I felt a soft push to my shoulder. I laughed and did it back to him.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Harry,” I rolled my eyes. “I just had this day planned for weeks. I was ready for this day and now... I’m stuck in an elevator.” My face fell and I quickly turned my head away before he could see it. He was trying his best to stay calm, so I wanted to do the same.

Harry suddenly grabbed one of my hands and led us to the elevator's back wall. "Sit," he said, sliding down the wall. I followed his orders and sat down next to him. He scooted close enough that our arms brushed each other, but neither of us minded. “We’ll be out soon and I’ll talk to Mr. Styles afterwards to make sure you still have your interview.”

I smiled widely, “Thank you, Harry.” Then I frowned. “Wait, I didn’t even realize you guys have the same name. Isn’t that cool, right?”

Harry stared at me as his face went blank. I thought back to my words, wondering if I said something wrong.

“Sorry?” I mumbled with a raised brow. “Did I say something?”

“No, nothing. But it’s no problem. It’s the least I could do,” he shrugged, brushing off whatever I said wrong. And so did I.

We were back to our original silence, besides Harry keeping up his grumbling curses at the power outage. I chuckled under my breath at the way his accent changed the tone of his words. He suddenly stopped, and I felt a pinch on my thigh. “You laughing at me, Y/N?”

I shook my head, “Not at all.”

“You sure, I felt a little vibration coming from you. Something you want to share with the elevator?” 

I rested my head against the wall, but let it turn to the side to face him. “I just think you’re probably more upset about the power outage than Mr. Styles. I didn’t think it would make you this angry,” I shrugged.

Harry didn’t answer at first, only staring at the elevator doors. “It’s just… I know how pushed back we’re gonna be now. It’s probably mayhem on every floor.”

I nodded, “Makes sense. Mr. Styles probably loves your dedication.”

“He does, I’m his favorite,” he smirked as he turned his head to meet eyes with me. I gave him a bored look before rolling my eyes. “Wow, you don’t think so? You don’t even know him, apparently.”

“I can’t imagine you being anyone’s favorite anything.”

“But I am your favorite ‘stuck in an elevator’ buddy, aren’t I?”

“Do I really get a choice? This is a first,” I shrugged. Harry laughed and smoothly slid his arm around my shoulder with a soft sigh. Without much thought of it, I leaned my head against his and closed my eyes.

I was just hoping Mr. Styles would still consider my interview that day. Harry did say he’d make sure it would happen, and I wanted to take his word for it. I was almost desperate.

To break the silence, Harry asked, “Where are you from?”

“Here, born and raised,” I answered simply. “You?” 

“England.” 

I chuckled, “Shocker,” as if his accent didn’t give it away. He poked my cheek and I swatted his thigh. “When did you start working here?”

I felt him shrug before humming in thought. “Don’t remember when but I was one of the firsts hired here.”

“That’s amazing. Congratulations.” I set my hand out in between us, and he snorted before taking it and accepting my firm shake. 

“You got the shake down, very business ready, I see.”

“Think Mr. Styles will be impressed?” I asked. My head turned towards him with a smirk plastered on my face. “He might even like mine better than yours.”

Harry rolled his lips inwards as he stared back at me. I lifted my brows, waiting for a snarly remark from him, but he didn’t say anything. His eyes drifted across my face before landing on my lips.

He started to speak, but suddenly stopped himself. I frowned, reaching to flick at his nose, causing his prominent dimples to spread. He quickly grabbed my finger and brought it to my own nose to flick.

“I feel like we’ve been here for more than an hour,” I whispered because he was right in front of me. His eyes wouldn’t leave my lips, which made me a little self conscious. “It’s probably been like twenty minutes, right?”

“Time is a little tricky when you’re stuck in an elevator,” He joked, “but I’d say about that. I don’t know about you, but I’m quite enjoying my stay at Le Elevator Pleasing.” He attempted a pretty good French accent as he shut his eyes to speak.

I chuckled and clapped in amusement. 

“Thank you, thank you,” He slight bowed. “Do I get a kiss or something for my performance?” My eyes widened at his brave request, but he only smirked and flicked my nose again. My words got caught up in my throat as I tried to come up with a slick reply, but that really threw me off.

Instead of answering, I glanced down at his lips and bit the inside of my own. 

“Oh, love, now you’re just asking for it, yeah?” He groaned, leaning closer to my face. I kept my eyes where they were, letting my free hand fall on his thigh. 

“Do you want one or not?” I whispered with a sudden new found confidence. Harry’s smile grew tremendously wide as he nodded.

He shifted his body in my direction and used the arm that was around my shoulder to bring me closer. “Are you sure, Y/N?” His voice dropped, sending all kinds of shivers down my spine. His eyes didn’t know where to look as they shot all across my face.

I nodded at his question, but he shook his head. He reached his free hand to tap my lip. Words, his eyes darkened. “Yes, please,” I let out a helpless breath.

“Good girl,” He groaned, our noses finally touching. He knocked mine softly to angle my head to the side. Our lips swiftly grazed each other and I could’ve gasped by the softness of his.

“Yes,” I repeated, grabbing the back of his head and tangling my fingers in his tight curls. I could tell he wanted to tease me again as his hand ran up my hip before digging his hand into my side.

Without letting my mind overthink it, I simply connected our lips and unconsciously moaned softly within it. Harry quickly accepted and took over. 

I had only known this man for… however long… and I trusted him more than any man I know.

The kiss got sloppy and desperate. Our tongues fought and our teeth clashed. Harry’s low groans and my whimpers as he sucked on my bottom lip every so often played as elevator music. His arms moved to hold my waist and pulled me fully onto his lap. My skirt rose to my hips as my knees sat on each side of him.

I was the first to pull away with heavy breaths. His lips rested on my forehead as his hands traveled down to my ass to grope them unabashedly. “What did we just do?” I frowned as I lifted my head up to him. I expected him to be as surprised as I was but he simply smiled. “What?”

“I’m waiting for you. I’m not done, baby,” He leaned his head back against the wall, keeping his large, ring cladded fingers on my cheeks. “I love these panties, by the way. Fucking hot.” I glanced over my shoulder and arched my back to see my ass, forgetting about the set of undergarment I threw on that morning.

“It’s just black?” I looked back at him as he sighed a soft moan. 

“Don’t arch like that, Y/N. Fuck me,” He bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut. I suddenly yelped at the hard slap to my left cheek. “Come here, baby.” His other hand came up to my jaw to pull us back into an intimate kiss.

It was a little slower than before, but definitely hotter. His hands guided my ass to rock on his lap at a slow pace. I felt short shocks between my legs as my heat would occasionally brush the new obvious dent in his pants.

My hands reached for the two buttons on his blazer and quickly slid it off his shoulders. His lips moved down to my neck as I moaned out at a specific spot he sucked at. I tried to quickly deal with his dress shirt, but my hands began to shake at the feeling of his pointer finger secretly running up my slit.

I threw my head back, giving him more access to my neck, which he hummed as thanks. His lips slid to my jaw then my ear. 

“You’re so fucking hot, Y/N,” He whispered. “And you’re already soaking your panties. Who is it for, baby? Tell me.” He hooked his finger into my panties before letting it snap against my cunt. I gasped, tugging at the curls my hand was tangled in. His finger came up between us to display the pad coated.

“Please, Harry,” I whimpered, unbeknownst what I was specifically asking for. His eyes locked with mine as his tongue darted out and his wet finger entered his mouth. My lips fell apart as I watched intensely. My cunt squeezed against nothing and my toes suddenly curled.

Harry hummed as his lips wrapped around his finger before sliding it out clean. “Fuck,” his slurred. “You taste so good, Y/N. I’m gonna need more.”

Oh my god.

I started pulling at his shirt that I desperately wanted off of him. He glanced down and smiled.

“You never answered my question, darling,” He shook his head in disappointment. “Who has you fucking soaked like this? And you haven’t even been touched. Who?” What an ass. I wanted to roll my eyes, but his finger that slowly traced my heat over my panties allowed it to pass in the moment.

“You, Harry. God...” I groaned, my head falling on his shoulder.

“Good girl,” He hummed, easily unbuttoning his shirt before pealing it off his skin and throwing to the side with his blazer. I was at awe at what hid under his shirt. Unexpected tattoos sprinkled around his body, like the huge butterfly that sat dead center of his stomach. “Your turn.”

I sat back up to allow him to untuck my blouse from my skirt and throw it over my head. My hips didn’t stop rolling over his pants as I let out a small gasp. As soon as Harry caught my almost naked chest, his lips immediately latched onto my breast that were basically spilling out of my matching bra. 

His hands went wild, grabbing at me everywhere. My hips couldn’t stop as I bucked deeper in his lap. He let out a single groan through his lips that were pulling down my bra to latch onto my nipple. When I pushed down against him again, his hips thrusted up, causing my hands to hold onto his shoulders for balance.

I needed him. Bad.

“Take off your pants,” I begged him as he ripped my bra off and immediately went back to sucking at my breast harshly, definitely leaving a dark mark later. His eyes were shut as his arms wrapped around my waist to hold me close to him. I arched my back like earlier, earning a whimpering moan and another thrust of his hips against my cunt.

It was getting hot as our bodies molded together, desperately needing to be close. My hands reached between us to blindly search for the zipper to Harry’s pants. He showed no intention of letting go of my nipples as his lips would switch every few seconds to suck on the other.

“I want to see you, Harry baby. Please let me see your cock. I can feel you against my clit and fuck… my cunt is so fucking tight and hot. I need you in me,” I leaned down to his ear to whisper before kissing it.

I don’t know who was more surprised of my sudden dirty talk, Harry or myself, but I was so needy for him. It was the only way to get him to let my breasts go.

“Your cunt needs to filled up, huh?” He pushed my hand away to quickly undo his pants. I lifted myself off of him to let him slid them all the way off and towards the pile of clothes. While he did that, I unzipped my skirt and stepped out of it before placing myself back on his lap. By then, it was only my panties and his boxers keeping us apart.

Harry peppered kisses along my jaw then trailed back to my lips. They brushed against each other as we both breathed roughly. My arms tightened around his neck to bring us closer.

“Can I taste you first, baby? I’m so hungry for more of you,” he asked, letting his hands fall back down to my ass and massage them. I nodded rapidly, kissing him softly. “Lay down for me, beautiful. I’m gonna take such good care of you, okay?” I smiled and moved off his lap.

Before my back hit the floor, Harry reached for his blazer and placed it under me. I thanked him and finally laid back. Harry didn’t waste any time moving between my legs. I leaned up and propped myself on my elbows to watch him.

Harry laid down on his stomach and ran his tongue along his bottom lip as he stared at the wet spot on my panties. He brought his nose closer and breathed in a satisfied hum.

“You smell so good, Y/N. Are you gonna let me eat you out? Let me play with your clit?” He asked, rubbing his finger harshly over my panties. Words got stuck in my throat as I gasped at his finger swiping over my clit. “Answer me.”

“Yes, please, Harry,” I whined, my hands running through his curls. He smirked and hooked his finger into my panties to let it slide down my legs. He didn’t move his eyes from my heat as he threw my panties behind him.

His eyes stared at my opening with an agape look, and I wanted to immediately close my legs to hide it because I didn’t know what that meant. “I know it’s not the best looking, but—“

“Shush,” Harry darted his eyes to me. “It’s so fucking beautiful that I don’t know where to start first,” he breathed before biting his lip to hold back whatever threatened to come out his throat.

“Oh, okay,” I nodded shyly, glad it wasn’t the latter.

Harry smirked, finally gliding his pointer finger along my whole vagina, flicking at my hole, my walls, then my clit, causing my hips to thrust against it.

I groaned and tugged at his hair, begging for more. His other arm circled my thigh as he brought his face closer to where I was basically dripping for him.

His sole finger finally pushed itself into me and instantly curled to hit just the right spot. I harshly bit my lip to hold back the loud moan that was about to leave my mouth. “Oh my god, Harry,” I hissed at him. He chuckled under his breath as he continued to thrust his finger at a quick pace.

His mouth decided to join him as his tongue met my clit with a long strip. My back arched off the floor, and I pushed myself against him with my hips. He quickly kitten licked my clit as he hastily added another finger, stretching my walls.

“You weren’t kidding about being tight, baby. Can barely fit my fingers? Don’t know if you can take all of my cock,” Harry groaned against my clit, coming out a little muffled. I wanted to respond, but all that came out were loud moans.

His mouth was skilled as his tongue flicked along my whole cunt then sucked and kissed my clit. His fingers pulled out of me before spreading my lips and replacing with his tongue. He plunged straight in a couple of times, slightly swirling to hit my walls. I slurred a groan and bucked against his mouth.

I continued to squirm in his hold, but with just his one arm around the thigh, he was able to keep me right where he wanted.

His thumb reached up to circulate my clit with rapid flicking as his tongue worked faster. “Fuck Harry, I think I’m—“ I hissed, pulling his head closer.

He paused his movements and planted gentle kisses against my lips and clit before finally looking up at me with dark eyes and a wild smirk.

“Not yet,” he spoke, sitting up on his knees and lifting my thighs up to his lips to line kisses down the inside until he reached my calves. “I’m gonna need you to come on my cock, darling.”

His eyes were hooded and drunk as he stared down at my completely naked body. His hands ran up my sides to my breasts and used both hands to grope each. He hummed as he leaned down to kiss both nipples and suck harshly.

“Please,” I whispered as I wrapped my arms around his neck, drawing his body closer to mine. He placed both arms next to my head and rested himself on top of me. With his weight pressing against me, I felt his internal heat and immediately felt safe under him. His head fell in the crook of my neck and he attacked behind my ear with gentle kisses. His breath was heavy and mixed with low groans.

His hips involuntarily bucked against me, causing both of us to moan. I let one arm leave his neck to reached down between us, searching for his cock over his boxers. His lips left my neck to hover over mine. “I need to be in you so bad,” he basically whimpered, groaning with rough dry humps.

“I got you, it’s okay,” I kissed him as I slipped my hand under his boxers and grabbed his girthy cock.

“Oh god, Y/N,” he hissed, immediately thrusting into my hand. His teeth bit into my bottom lip with his eyes squeezed shut. I ran my finger down the length and was caught off guard by how long he was. “Are you clean? I am.”

I nodded, “Yeah, and I’m on the pill.” Harry hummed in response before kissing me once more. I pulled Harry’s cock out of his boxers and slowly stroked him.

He had to take a sharp breath to control his incoming moan. “You’re killing me, baby.” I snorted, kissing his cheek that popped out a dimple.

Harry swiftly slid his boxers off of himself, leaving us both completely naked in the half dark. My hand never stopped stroking his now fully hard cock that dripped with precum. I swiped my thumb over his tip to collect the juices, earning a puff of air on my shoulder.

“You ready for me, baby?” He asked, taking himself into his own hand and teasingly running his tip against my heat. I gulped, grabbing his shoulders and nodding. “Use your words, Y/N. I need you to tell me. Let me hear you.”

“Yes, I need you so bad. Please, I can’t take it,” I moaned, lifting my hips to attempt to suck him in, but he was quick to pull away.

“I guess so because you asked so nicely,” he smirked as he finally lined himself up with my entrance. “If it hurts, you tell me stop immediately, understand?”

“Of course,” I smiled and petted his lips with my thumb. He kissed it softly before smiling back. “Thank you, Harry.” We shared a sentimental stare for a few comfortable seconds in silence.

Harry cleared his throat when he realized what we were just about to do. He looked down between us and slowly pushed himself in. I sucked in a breath as I instantly felt him stretching my walls but in all the right ways. He wasn’t just long but thick. And he was veiny. I felt every inch of him as he continued to enter me slowly.

His head picked up to watch me with his jaw dropping and brows furrowing. He moaned loudly and connected our lips to swallow my own.

My arms tightened around his neck, and my fingers twirled in his hair, ready to tug as the pleasure increased. I felt him completely fill me up, and I knew I'd remember that feeling for the rest of my life. He was the first to have my walls clenching so tightly that I felt like bursting already.

“Tell me how it feels, Y/N. Let me hear you,” Harry demanded, eyes meeting mine. His arms slithered under my body to hug around me, holding my upper back as it arched.

I threw my head back as he leaned down to kiss along my collarbones. “You feel so fucking good. You’re so big, Harry, I can feel you in my stomach,” I groaned.

His knees finally bent to start a faster thrusting pace. Our skins slapped against each other loudly as a replica of the elevator music. My legs wrapped around his waist tightly due to my shaking legs. I was already close from him fingering me, but his cock quickly pounding my cunt was making it very hard to hold it.

I suddenly felt a wave of pleasure when he changed the angle, hitting a specific spot. My nails dug into him as I gasped. “Right there… fuck. Please don’t stop, please. God Harry,” I cried, unable to control the moans that left me.

“Right here? Did I find your sweet spot, baby? I knew I could figure you out quickly,” he whispered in my ear.

My breasts bounced roughly against his chest, feeling his warmth all through my body. It got hot very quickly in the big elevator. And loud.

Harry’s thrusts got sloppy so I knew he was getting close. His head fell back on my shoulder as his breath stuttered. His hips went faster, pushing deeper than I thought he could ever reach.

My legs tightened around him so I could rock my hips into him, brushing my clit against him, forming a new found pleasure. It was unbelievable. I knew I was close and wouldn’t be able to hold back, even if he demanded me to.

“Close, so fucking close,” was all I could breathe out as all thoughts disappeared from my mind.

“Yeah, you’re gonna milk my cock, baby?”

“Mmhmm,” I nodded. “I can’t hold it much longer, you feel so good.”

Harry pushed himself into me even faster, knowing how to get me off, though it was our first time. His lips found mine again and our tongues swirled together messily.

It felt like a balloon inside of me was slowly being poked by a needle. Only a few more seconds and I was gonna burst. “I’m coming, fuck,” I whined, holding Harry even tighter.

His thrusts continued at the same brutal pace and he reached between us to thumb at my clit. “Come for me, Y/N. Let me feel you all around my cock. I can’t wait any longer.”

That was all I needed for the balloon to finally pop. I had to cover my mouth to silence the surprising noise that left my lips. A wave of euphoria traveled all through my body as I finally let go. My body paused but Harry kept pounding in me, chasing his own release.

His hips push into me one last time before he spurts himself deep in my cunt, coating my walls. He groaned softly, dropping himself on top of me. A layer of sweat formed along his forehead and I took the initiative to wipe it away.

We both breathed loudly in sync, waiting for the energy in our bodies to come back. I suddenly felt embarrassed as I realized I was still naked under him. My arm slid between us to cover my breasts as I looked off to the side. Harry immediately noticed and grabbed my jaw to bring my eyes back to him.

“What are you doing? Don’t hide from me,” he frowned before kissing me.

“Sorry,” I blushed, “I always get like this when I’m naked, even when I’m alone.”

“Well don’t do it in front of me. I’m obsessed with your body, Y/N. Look, I’m already hard for you again,” he motioned to his cock growing against his stomach.

I gasped before laughing, patting his cheek. “Cute but I’m spent.”

“That’s fine, love. Let’s get dressed because I can’t control myself for much longer when you’re looking like that.” I nodded and waited until he sat up to scurry to the pile of clothes and change into my outfit.

-

I tugged at the end of my skirt once more and pushed my hair off my shoulders while inhaling a confident breath. A few words of encouragement had me knocking on the double doors of the office I should’ve been at thirty minutes ago.

I had already rehearsed my apologies for my tardiness even though it clearly wasn’t my fault. One rumor that passed around about the CEO of the company was that everything was your fault. No matter what it was.

As I waited for a voice allowing me to enter, I realized that I never received one. My brows furrowed as I knocked again. The frosted glass doors made it impossible to see if anyone was even inside. I would’ve thought Mr. Styles was on the top floor during the outage and already back in his office before I got there.

“Waiting for the big boss?” A tall silhouette hovered behind me. His hands met my hips, pushing himself against my back.

“Yeah, but I don’t think he’s here. Must’ve left to figure out the means of the power outage,” I assumed, turning around to face the man I literally had between my legs not even ten minutes ago.

His aura felt different from before. He seemed more predatory as he watched me intensely. I chuckled as his sudden change of demeanor.

“You okay, Harry?” I asked, brushing my hands down his suit, noticing the lint it must’ve picked up from being on the elevator floor.

“Of course, darling. Just waiting on someone,” he smirked, moving to the wall next to the double doors and leaning against it by his shoulder. His hand held out for me and I instantly took it. He pulled my body against his and let his hands wander unabashedly. I nodded at his response, letting him roam his hand down to my ass before giving it a teasing pinch.

“Do I still look okay? I mean, for my meeting? Does it look like I just got brutally fucked in an elevator?” I joked, scrunching my nose at him. He threw his head back to laugh before shaking his head.

“I can’t even tell. All I see is a beautiful, confident, meeting ready woman of my dreams,” he sucked up, leaning down to kiss me. “I hope this isn’t the last time you’ll let me kiss and touch you like this. I quite enjoyed today. I enjoy you a lot.”

I instantly blushed, “Maybe, maybe not. I don’t think it’ll be very professional to treat my hopefully future coworker like this. I’ll have to ask my potential boss,” I joked, hugging him by his waist. His finger nipped at my lip as he hummed. “Who are you even waiting for? I just know it’s chaotic downstairs after everyone being put back due to the outage. Don’t you have to get back to work?”

We both turned our heads down a hallway that emitted loud and quick clinks of heels. As the noise approached us, I instantly dropped my hands from Harry and fixed my posture. He continued to lean against the wall nonchalantly, so I furrowed my brows at him but he just pinched my hip.

“Stay professional,” I quickly scolded him before the pair of heels finally revealed a tall lengthy woman with her hair flying behind her as she took far steps due to her stretched legs. I could only wish for that kind of body.

“Oh great, thank god I found you. Things have gone to complete shit,” the woman blurted to Harry while frustratingly pinching the bridge of her nose. “It’s like everyone forgot how to do anything.”

Harry chuckled, standing up straight to outgrow her. He glanced at me and smiled. “I figured, but I can’t worry about that right now. I have an interview.”

“Oh right, Y/N L/N, right?” She nodded before turning her attention to me. “And you must be her?”

I blankly switched my eyes between the two of them, trying to comprehend the little information I was just informed of. I was utterly confused, and still mesmerized by that woman’s body. It was surreal.

“Wait, I have an interview with Mr. Styles. The CEO of the company,” I pointed out, motioning to double doors we all stood outside of.

Harry continued to smile as the woman gave him a confused look. He reached into his pant pocket and pulled out a single key. He turned his back to us to fiddle with the door as the woman looked at me.

“Miss L/N, I think you must be unaware, but he is Mr. Styles, the CEO,” she tilted her head as she laid a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Have you not seen a picture of him on magazines?”

“Wait, you’re Mr. Styles!” I gasped, poking at Harry’s back. “Like the Harry Styles?” He didn’t answer, so the woman did.

“Yeah, he’s everywhere. Did you seriously not recognize this man?” I shook my head, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. “Well I hope you haven’t said or done anything to him that you shouldn’t have. He could be your potential boss.”

Harry finally opened the door to what I assumed was his office then turned to face us. He brought his attention to the woman first, and I made her out to be his assistant. “Can you cancel my 1:30 meeting and 2:15 lunch with Hank Rivers? I’ll be busy.” The woman instantly nodded and looked down at the iPad that hugged against her chest. Harry quickly sent me a single wink.

“Done and done. I’ll leave you until then.”

“Okay, thanks Amanda,” he said as she turned on her heel and walked back to where she had came from.

I didn’t noticed my mouth was hanging agape until Harry used his finger to push my jaw up. “You seem surprised?” He motioned for me to walk into his office, and as I passed, he pinched one of my ass cheeks.

“I just can’t believe I fucked the CEO that was supposed to be interviewing me for a potential job,” I sighed, rubbing my hands over my eyes. “Listen Mr. Styles—“

“What happened to Harry?” He walked past me and sat on top of his desk, in front of the two leather seats for guests. He motioned for me to come over and stand between his legs, which I shook my head at. “Don’t get all shy with me now, Y/N.”

“You’re the CEO of the company I wanted to work at, Mr. Styles, and we fucked in the elevator. This changes things.” I hugged myself as I shifted the weight of my legs from one to the other. “I messed things up now. You knew I was here to be interviewed by you and still let us do all that shit in the elevator, you sly fucker.”

“What would you like me to say? I’m not sorry about it, and I definitely want to do it again if you’re up for it,” he smirked, sliding his blazer off his shoulders before rolling them back to stretch his muscles.

I shook my head and took a step towards the doors. “No, never again. This isn’t right. I—“

“Y/N, calm down. I’m just messing with you, baby,” he raised his hands up in surrender. “I'll forget everything that happened, which I'd hate to do, and we can start over for the sake of this interview. Will it make you feel any better?" He raised his brows at me.

I bit my lip and shrugged with uncertainty. I didn’t regret what happened because it was really good, but the whole situation wasn’t right. I blew out a breath and ran my fingers through my hair.

Harry hopped off his desk and stalked over to me. His hands instantly grabbed my jaw and held me into a long and slow kiss. I moaned within it, holding his hips.

“I really hope you don’t want to start over because I’m already obsessed with you, Y/N,” Harry pulled back slightly to speak. Each word brushed his plush lips against mine.

I shrugged, “I don’t want to, but I feel like I have some sort of advantage now. I wanted to interview for this job like everyone else and get it with my own strengths.”

Harry smiled, kissing me once again. “That’s fair, I love that actually. I’m gonna have Amanda, my assistant, come back and do the interview. She knows me very well and would know if you’re worthy. How’s that sound?” He asked, poking my nose with his thumb as his hands stayed cupping my jaw.

“I would like that a lot, thank you.”

“Good.”

Harry pulled me in for one last kiss and landed a hard slap to my ass.

-

Fuck that took forever, I’m sorry ahahshah

-

PART TWO ;)

eddie munson : guitar pick

note : i wanna die. i don't know what to do with myself as of today.

pairing : eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings : ¡¡¡ MAJOR season 4 volume 2 spoilers !!! angst (grief, crying, death), slight fluff, some people are assholes

word count : 1566

summary : the aftermath of volume 2

- 

“Mister Munson?”

There. She’d only met him a couple times, lounging at Eddie’s trailer with some shitty, one dollar drink and an amazing horror movie playing. He’d say ‘hello’ and she’d reply something kind, and then Eddie would laugh at her shyness in front of his uncle, who’d grin and go to his room. 

Standing, head bowed down, in front of a vandalised photo of Eddie Munson, stood Wayne Munson. His hand hovered over the pin holding the paper sheet to the corkboard of similar announcements of missing people, all of which would be prioritised over finding Eddie Munson. 

He didn’t say anything. No reply, just robotic movements of grabbing the pin and yanking off the ruined paper, replacing it with a new one. 

Her heart twinged—no, twinged wasn’t the word for it. There wasn’t a word painful enough for how her body locked up, squeezing out any air from her lungs and burning through her composure which she prayed she’d keep through the day. 

“Y/N,” he replied, turning his head to look at her. His eyes went straight to the shirt she was wearing—Eddie’s—and his face contorted into something painful. 

A white shirt with a black print reading: ‘Corroded Coffin’. Eddie had been designing it, grinning when Y/N had asked what he was doing:

“I’m making merchandise. We’ll be big, you know? And everyone will be wearing this,” he said, grabbing her hand which was reaching for the shirt. “It’s wet, dumbass.”

“Do I get one?” she asked, laughing when he pulled her onto his lap and pressing quick kisses to her hairline. 

“Duh. You get this one, lucky charm. Hopefully, you’ll wear only the shirt,” he paused, sucking a mark onto her jaw, “and nothing else.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“What, you don’t like it?” His face twisted comically.

“Don’t put words in my mouth, Eds,” she laughed, head burrowing into his neck and pressing soft kisses to his shoulder. “I’m honoured. You know I’m your biggest fan. I’ll be there for every show.”

“Yeah, yeah, you charmer,” he laughed, one hand grasping at her hips and the other cupping her jaw and leading her lips to his.

They’d gotten distracted and he never finished the shirt. He never would. 

“They’re not going to be looking for him.”

She didn’t want reassurance. He knew already that this stupid town decided who deserved to live and who didn’t with no regard. She just said, “no, they’re not.” 

He walked to one of the empty beds close to the corkboard, slumping down. Y/N couldn’t move her feet, staring at the picture of Eddie. He was staring at the camera, and her mind could remember the colour of his eyes and the feeling of his lips. 

“You got any idea of where he is?” he asked, glancing up at his nephew’s girlfriend. 

She lowered her eyes, shaking her head. 

“I’ll still put up as many damn posters as it takes until he’s found because my boy is innocent.”

Her hand reached into her pocket, wrapping around the guitar pick as she tried to fight off the tingle in her nose indicating the sobs in her chest. 

“I’ll see you around.” He stood, walking away. 

“I was with him,” she faltered, but it didn’t matter. Eddie’s uncle had already turned, eyes searching hers. “When the, uh, earthquake hit.” His figure was getting blurrier, and her throat started tightening around the words she was attempting to force out. 

“So,” he paused, “you do know where he is now?”

She couldn’t physically push the words out. Her eyes closed as she took her hand out of her pocket, holding the guitar pick—Eddie’s guitar pick—out to his uncle. 

His gaze went from hers to the guitar pick. 

“I’m…” she faltered. “I’m so sorry,” she sputtered out, hand quivering around the chains which Wayne Munson took. How could she tell him that Eddie was—

Words failed her, and she could only watch as Eddie’s uncle fell apart in front of her, collapsing back onto the makeshift bed. 

And when the usually stoic man started sobbing, Y/N couldn’t keep her silent cry, hand coming up to cover her mouth. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she repeated, a muffled apology, sitting down next to him. Her eyes fluttered, drops falling from her eyes. “He was good. He was so good. And no one bothered to try to find that out, and I don’t know why.”

Crying used to feel good, like a relief from the world. But Eddie used to be there, holding her or talking to her, and now he wasn’t and she couldn’t collect herself in front of his uncle, and he was still facing away, clutching the guitar pick to his chest and nodding. 

“I wish more people had tried to find that out, because I think they would have loved him as much as I do. I love Eddie, Mister Munson, so much, and he was the best person I had the privilege to know. Even when this town didn’t deserve it, he fought for it. He never got mad. He never shouted at anyone, he just took it and I know it hurt him but he kept being himself. He could’ve run—survived. But he fought and he…” she swallowed, a nausea settling over her at her next words. “He died for this place and that isn’t fair.”

“Eddie! Dustin!” she yelled, having just fallen out of the doorway. “Eddie? Dustin? Where are you?” 

Her voice was hoarse now, but she ran out either way to find—

Dustin was holding Eddie, and something was wrong. Something was bad, worse than anything someone could dream up. Through all the shit with Vecna, with the bats, with the deaths, Y/N had never felt this kind of dread until this moment.

“I think it’s my year, Henderson,” he struggled with the words that she heard as she ran forwards, “I think it’s finally my year.”

“Eddie!” she fussed, falling onto her knees opposite of Dustin. She didn’t care about the dead bats around them or the way loose rocks dug into her skin, she could only see him. “Eddie, hey. Hey, you’re okay, right? You’re okay.”

“I’m okay, lucky charm,” he smiled, but it didn’t last long fading to be replaced with the tears filling his eyes. 

But he wasn’t okay. There was blood around his mouth and on his body, and she could see that he was struggling to even breathe. He wouldn’t survive the trip out of the Upside Down, and she had the sinking feeling that the hospitals would turn them away. 

“D—don’t worry,” he blinked. “Worry ‘bout Henderson here.” Dustin grabbed his hand, saying something about how Eddie was okay, but Eddie just smiled and said, “I love you, man.”

Dustin, the poor boy who was too young to lose someone this important, whimpered back, “I love you too.”

“Y/N, I—I—” he struggled, but Y/N just leaned down and pressed a kiss to the spot where his forehead met the bandana wrapped around his head. 

“I know,” she answered, because she knew what he meant. He never stopped saying it. “I love you, Eddie. You did so well. Just rest a bit, and I’ll fix this.” One of her hands went to his hair, smoothing it out for possibly the last time, and she wished she could hear the way he usually hummed when she did that. 

She thinks he may have tried to laugh, but a cut off sound came out instead, and just as a tear fell from his eye, she knew that he was gone. 

She didn’t make a sound, just fell forwards and grasped at Dustin’s hand which tightly gripped back, gasping into the tattered fabric of his shirt. 

“Eddie…” Dustin begged, and he was so young and innocent that she couldn’t hold herself up anymore. 

“Oh, God,” she sobbed out, wishing she could scream until her throat corroded and her heart burst. Her hand was still in his hair, but she couldn’t physically move from where she’d collapsed onto him. “Eddie,” she screeched, a panicked and pained sound lost in his shirt. 

He didn’t say anything, and she took that as incentive to stand. 

“I’m—I'm sorry,” she said again, wiping her eyes. 

“You should keep this,” Wayne said, reaching towards her and giving her Eddie’s guitar pick. He didn’t look at her, and she wondered if he ever would again. 

She took it, and her throat hurt so much that she rushed to the women’s bathroom, ready to puke her guts up or tear her heart out in one of the stalls. But she wasn’t the only one in there, so she rushed into one of the compartments, sunk down onto the lid of the toilet and held a hand to her mouth, holding it down and hoping to hold in the sounds. 

“It’s that boy’s fault, you know? Eddie Munson killed all these people. Him and that cult.”

Eddie did so much, and he died with everyone thinking of him as a devil worshipper. He was so good. He was perfect, and he was flawed, but he did good. He didn’t run. He fought. He loved so fiercely. And Y/N had no clue of where to go from now. 

Because, truly, did anything matter if she couldn’t share it with the only person she’d ever truly love?

Telling Them

pairing: jake ‘hangman’ seresin x wife!reader

characters: jake seresin, y/n seresin, grayson seresin, kennedy seresin, dagger squad, penny benjamin, dr andrews

warnings: third person pov, she/her pronouns used, language, car crash mentioned, hospitals, mentions of surgey, mentions of family medical history (addiction to pain meds), talks of recovery methods, description of injuries, i believe that is it

word count: ~2.3k

a/n: 2/3 (this is a three part story -- however i might expand on it if you guys want)

loose summary: after nearly losing grayson, things are really put in perspective for jake and he realizes that the daggers are family too.

pt 1  pt 3

*******

“I think I wanna tell the squad.”

“What?” Y/N asked, except she heard him perfectly well.

Jake had just always wanted to keep his family private, it was how he protected them. Despite her wanting to get to know his coworkers, she respected her husband and understood where he was coming from. So his sudden confession confused her.

Jake sighed and held his wife’s hands. “I know, I know. I’ve always wanted to keep you and the kids private. But we could’ve lost Grayson today… We were having an emergency and you couldn’t get a hold of me or Javy. Then you apologized for coming to base to get me, you shouldn’t have to do that. Javy kinda knocked some sense into me earlier, said that the squad was worried when I left. A hoard of text on my phone confirmed that.” He took a deep breath.

“I want you and the kids to be able to lean on anyone on that team. I’ve trusted this team more than any other squadron I’ve been on.” “That’s saying something.” Jake chuckled, “Damn straight it is.”

He sighed, “I realized that if we had lost-” Emotion lumped in his throat. “If this had turned out any other way, they would have no idea that anything was wrong or why I wasn’t at work or why I was a bigger asshole than normal. I couldn’t mourn properly, because they would have no idea. And if I were to burn in…” He trailed off, but she knew what he was saying.

“So, I want you to meet them. I want them to get to know the kids. I want them to come to Grayson and Kennedy’s games. I want to expand the family, bring in a few strays.”

Y/N laughed, “Don’t let the princess hear you say that, she’ll think we’re getting a puppy.” Jake chuckled and kissed her knuckles, leaning his forehead on hers. “What do you say, my Queen?”

She nodded against him, “Let’s do it. But can it wait until we have Grayson at home? I’d hate for their first meeting to be in the hospital.” Jake nodded and kissed her forehead, “Of course, baby. Gives me time to drop subtle hints.”

Y/N pulled back, raising a brow, “You? Jacob Thomas Seresin, subtle? When are you ever subtle?” He rolled his eyes, “Hush.” Jake pecked her lips, “I’ll go get the doctor.” “Okay, I’ll give Javy and Mav a call, let them know he’s awake.”

Jake walked down the hall and Y/N took out her phone, calling Javy, not realizing what time it was.

“Hello?” “Javy- oh shit, did I wake you up?” “Yeah, but it’s fine. How’s Grayson?” She nodded, smiling, “He’s awake. He’s aware and is probably ready to get out of here.” “How’s Kennedy?” “She’s just glad to see that her brother’s awake,” she peaked in the window, seeing her daughter tucked under her son’s arm as she told him a story.

“How are you?” She sighed, “I’m better. Way better than before now that I know he’s okay. I’m just worried what this will mean for him. He’s already tried out and made the football team here, he probably won’t get to play this season, but it’s only his junior year so hopefully he’ll get to play his senior year.” “Hopefully he recovers like his mom,” Javy joked. She scoff laughed, “Yeah, fingers crossed.”

Javy sighed, “How’s Jake?” She bit her lip and looked down the hall in the direction her husband went. “Same as me, better now that he knows Grayson’s okay. But,” she took in a breath. “He wants to introduce the squad.”

Javy smiled on the other end, “When? Where? What time?” Y/N chuckled at her friend's enthusiasm. “Probably not until Grayson’s out of the hospital and is settled back at home with a routine. I’d hate for the first meeting to be in a hospital. Him being hurt isn’t ideal… but it helped put things into perspective for Jake. He’s so protective of his private life, has been since high school. We both know that.” Javy nodded.

“Hey, did Mav come by?” Coyote changed the subject. “Yeah, gave Jake the next few days off. He said he was gonna give subtle hints, but we know him.” Javy laughed, “Yes, yes we do.”

Y/N heard footsteps and looked to see Jake walking with the doctor. “I’ll let you go back to sleep, J.” “I’ll come by tomorrow after training,” he said, leaving no room for argument. “Okay, goodnight Javy.” “Goodnight, Y/N.” She hung up and sent Maverick a text.

Once the doctor and Jake got to her, they went into the room.

“Good to see you awake, Grayson. I’m Doctor Andrews. How are you feeling? Any pain?” Jake and Y/N went to the left side of the bed, Y/N’s hand lightly gripping her son’s.

“My ribs hurt a little, legs are definitely hurting,” Grayson told him, shifting a little.

Y/N moved over to the right side of the bed, “Kenni, come here sister.” She held her hands out as her daughter leaned into her brother. “Wanna stay with Gray…” Y/N sighed, “I know you do, Princess. But the doctor needs to make sure bubba’s okay. He can’t work around you, honey.”

Kennedy narrowed her (e/c) eyes at the doctor before looking back at her mom, “Is he nice?” Y/N smiled and nodded, “Yes, Kennedy, he’s nice.” The five year old sighed, “Okay.” She kissed her brother's cheek before holding her arms out for her mother. Y/N gathered her up and went back to Jake’s side, the little girl instantly wanting to go to her father.

They spent the rest of that time going over the treatment options and timelines.

“Okay, so we’re probably going to have to keep you here for about five days. Just to make sure everything’s okay. Do we have a preference for pain medication? Currently we’ve got you hooked up to morphine.” Grayson glanced at Y/N, not sure what to say. “We try to stay away from opioids as best we can. If it’s unavoidable then we understand.”

Doctor Andrews nodded, “Has anyone in the family had trouble with addictions in the past?” “No, not that we are aware of,” Jake answered. He nodded again, “Okay, so we’ll definitely look into our options and run them by you. Do you have any questions while I’m here?”

Y/N looked at her son, who shifted a little in the bed.

“Um… Sports? Will I ever get to play again? Or am I done?” Andrews sighed, “Well, everything will depend on the recovery. I’m afraid this football season, possibly basketball season, will have to miss you. But hopefully we can have you back by baseball season.”

“How long is the recovery?” “Four to six months for the femur, sometimes the ACL can take as long as nine, but everyone is different.” Grayson nodded. “Thank you, Doc.” He gave the Seresins a smile, “Of course, get some rest. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Grayson rubbed his face, groaning a little. “What is it?” Y/N asked. “It’s just – four to six months? Gosh, that sounds like forever.” “It’ll be over before you know it, kid. You just gotta work during the recovery,” Jake said, nodding down to Grayson’s legs that were in braces.

Moving curls out of his face, Y/N spoke, “Gray, we will be with you every step of the way. It’ll be hard, but you can do it.”

She gestured to her own leg, “I tore my ACL my sophomore year of high school, I get it. You’ll want to jump right back in once you’re healed, but you can’t. You have to be careful until you’re properly healed, because if you aren’t you might cause more damage. If your body tells you to rest, listen to it.” Grayson nodded, yawning a little, “Yes ma’am.” Smiling at her son, she kissed his forehead, “Get some rest. We’ll be here when you wake up.”

Jake smiled and ruffled his hair, adjusting Kennedy so she could kiss her brother’s cheek. “Night bubba.” “Night sister.”

********

Two days later, Jake was back on base and, since Grayson was only 16, Y/N stayed at the hospital with him. Kennedy stayed at Penny’s getting pampered by Amelia.

As expected, everyone asked Jake if everything was okay. He just nodded and went on as usual. Of course he was still worried, but he was a dad; it’s expected. But people took Jake at his word.

And Jake, in his best attempts to be subtle, had moved his wedding band from his truck to his dog tags and wore his watch lower on his left wrist, to show the initials tattooed there. He also didn’t try to hide his phone as much, knowing his friends were a little nosy.

“Hangman, is that your niece? She’s adorable, what’s her name?” Fanboy asked as he sat beside Jake at lunch. Jake just smiled, “Her name is Kennedy. We call her Ken or Kenni.”

“Wait, let us see!” Phoenix said, gesturing for him to turn the phone around. He proudly did so, showing everyone at the table his daughter. “How old is she?” Rooster asked as he washed down his food. “She’s five, she was about 3 in that photo though. Just popped up in my memories on Facebook.”

They were too busy fawning over how cute Kennedy was that they didn’t catch the dodged ‘niece’ question.

Now, the Dagger squad was not stupid and they were trained to notice things. But does that mean they caught everything? Absolutely not.

But, Bob, being ever the wallflower, noticed the tattoo the next day when Jake took off his watch to shower.

“Who’s ‘(f/i) S’?” Jake smiled and rubbed the pad of his thumb over the two letters. “Sorry, that-” “No, Bob, it’s okay. If I didn’t want you to see it, you wouldn’t have seen it.” The WSO relaxed, “I take it they mean a lot to you?” Jake decided to keep it vague, just for suspense, “They mean the world to me.” Bob smiled and clapped Jake on the shoulder before leaving the room.

*****

Four days into Grayson’s stay at the hospital and two days since Jake has been back at work, the squad went to the Hard Deck. But Jake wasn’t really there, his mind was on Y/N, Grayson, and Kennedy.

“Hey, Hangman, you okay?” Penny asked as she came over with his beer. “Yeah, yeah.” She arched a challenging brow and he caved. “Okay, maybe I’m still just a little shaken up. But Grayson’s okay, he’s coming home tomorrow. I just- Gah I don’t know…” Penny sympathetically smiled at him.

He changed the subject, “How’s Kennedy doing? She handlin’ it okay?” Penny nodded, “Yeah, Amelia is doing a good job at keeping her distracted. Tea parties, make-overs, the whole nine.” Jake smiled, “Yeah, Y/N’s shown me the photos.” “She keeps asking for Grayson though, she wants to visit him all the time. But if it’s past visiting hours they’ll face time.” He nodded, swallowing a little bit, “Yeah, that girl loves her brother. It’s-”

“Hangman! You ready to get your ass kicked?” Jake turned, “In your dreams, Fitch! Give me a minute!” He turned back to Penny, pulling his wallet out, “Close my tab, please. I’m heading out after this.”

Penny nodded and took the cash, gesturing to the squad “When are you gonna tell them?” He glanced back over his shoulder at the group before turning back, “Tonight, actually. Grayson comes home after an exam tomorrow afternoon. We plan on doing a cookout.” Penny smiled, “Good luck.” “Thanks,” he smiled and pushed off the bar, sauntering over to the squad.

He grabbed the pool cue offered and broke the triangle. “Hey, I’m heading out after this-” “What? You never leave first.” He just shrugged and lined up his shot, potting a solid. “As I was saying, I’m leaving after this. I was wondering if you guys were free this Saturday.” Cyclone, Warlock, and Mav knew Jake’s plan and gave everyone Saturday off.

The squad shared a look and nodded, saying they were free. “Yeah, why?” Jake smirked, eyes staying on the pool table, “My wife and I were planning to have a cookout, so I’m inviting you guys.” “Wife? You’re married?!” Rooster asked, choking on his drink. Jake nodded, “I believe I said wife. Didn’t I Coyote?” Coyote smirked as well, “Yeah, you did.”

Before anyone could ask ridiculous questions, Bob spoke up first, “How long have you been married?” “15 years in September,” Jake smiled, eyeing the gold band that was now on his finger. He’d put it on a few minutes ago while he waited for Penny to get his drink. “15? How have you kept it a secret for so long?” Fanboy asked. Jake shrugged, “When something’s mine I hate to share it.”

“Do you have kids?” Rooster asked. Jake nodded, “Yeah, two. A son, Grayson, and a daughter, Kennedy.” Their jaws dropped. “I thought she was your niece,” Payback asked. Jake shook his head, leaning down to take his shot, “Nope, never said that.”

Jake took a few more shots before sitting on a barstool while Payback took his. “So, are you guys in or what? I need to know how much food to get.” They all nodded. “I can’t believe you let me drown in testosterone when you had a little girl and a wife. I don’t think I could ever forgive you,” Phoenix said, crossing her arms while narrowing her eyes. “I’ll learn to live with that.”

Bob spoke up again, a little more hesitant this time. “What happened last Saturday?” Jake sighed and stood up, “Grayson was in a car accident.” 

When everyone jumped to ask questions,  he held his hands up. 

“He’s okay. But he’s been in the hospital the past few days for observation, but he’s coming home tomorrow. The cookout is really for you guys to come meet them and get to know them a little bit. Y/N didn’t want y’all to meet in the hospital.”

The group nodded, “We’re in.”

**********

hiiiii! i’m happy you’re here! 

the squad knows now! how do you think the cookout is going to go? what might happened when the squad learns grayson is a 16 year-old? 

i hope you enjoyed this part two! i have one more part to post and will hopefully get it out in a timely fashion

if you want to be notified of up coming parts comment and i can add you to the tag list! and if you want to be added to top gun tag list lmk! <33

thank you for reading!

top gun tags <33: @roosterscockpit @luckyladycreator2 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @sebsxphia​ @milesdickpic​

thank you guys for being here!!!

It has been a whole entire week since I posted my previous set of recs and guess who is still hip deep in BATFAMILY fic and really wants to cry about feelings about all the Bats and Birds, but most especially my beloved Dick Grayson? I enjoy fic of all the characters, there should hopefully be something for most fans here, I eventually spread my wings a bit (ha ha) through the fandom, but absolutely I feel I should warn you all that I play favorites and I’m not subtle about it. In my defense he’s really annoying in the most delightful way, how could I not love him the most? So, here, have week #2’s recs where I dump 60+ more fics on you because this fandom is on fucking fire with how good it is and how much I love everyone here. God bless fic writers, you are all doing the lord’s work of giving me three novels worth a week to read and knocking it out of the park while you do it. BATFAM FIC RECS - BABY DICK IS THE CUTEST FERAL ROBIN I’M NOT HEARING ANY ARGUMENTS: ✦ The Painful Truth by RascalJoy (DarkQuill), dick & bruce & wally & artemis & m'gann & conner & dinah, 6.2k      In a mission gone wrong, Robin finds himself being forcefully interrogated under…influence. “Now, you’re probably wondering why we haven’t just yanked your mask off and been done with this whole thing, hmm? It’s because this way is so much more fun.” ✦ a home not yet a home by Mayarenerose, dick & bruce, 1.1k      Dick just likes climbing to the roof sometimes. He doesn’t mean anything by it. He doesn’t. He just needs to be high up sometimes. He likes looking at the stars. Stars are hard to come by in the city and you need to be high up to even see them properly. ✦ Friends That Say (You’re Not Alone) by ProsperDemeter, dick & bruce & alfred & clark, 3.5k      Richard. The kid. Richard Grayson. Clark didn’t feel ready to meet the child that Bruce took in. What if he was a mini-Bruce? What in the world would Clark do then? ✦ Taking Flight: A Tragicomedy in Four Acts by WingFeathers, dick & bruce & alfred & clark, 48.7k      John and Mary Grayson die; Dick becomes Robin. This is everything that happens in between, a/k/a, how Gotham City ripped one family and identity from Dick and gave him another. An origin story in the Rebirth spirit, weaving together threads from Tec #40, Dark Victory, Robin: Year One, New 52, and more. ✦ Motion Sickness by Arwriter, dick & bruce & cast, 4.2k      A routine patrol is interrupted when Robin realizes he’s being followed. There’s no attack, no ambush, no weapons drawn. Dick doesn’t understand what this man wants, or why his gentle touch hurts so bad. But Batman seems to know, and Dick just wants someone to tell him what he did wrong. ✦ do as I say (not as I do) by daringyounggrayson, dick & bruce, 1.1k      “Don’t be mad.” Bruce has been raising Dick long enough to know that that sentence never bodes well. Especially when it’s the first thing to pop out of the twelve-year-old’s mouth when Bruce answers the phone. ✦ Burn Rubber by HoodEx, dick & bruce & roy, 3.5k      Roy couldn’t help but feel out of place like his presence was keeping Bruce from acting like himself. Whatever “himself” looked like. Bruce had always been a bit of a cold asshole anytime Roy had been around him. Even when Bruce talked to Dick, there was a barrier there that made their conversations seem strictly business. Some part of Roy had always wondered if Bruce was the same way with Dick at home. For Dick’s sake, he sure hoped not. OR the one where Roy gets to see Bruce act like a dad. Also, there are cars. Lots of cars. ✦ Surprise, You’re Adopted by CamsthiSky, dick & bruce, 1.8k      Dick gets kidnapped. Bruce gets worried. Things turn out alright in the end, though. ✦ without you i am surely the last of my kind by nosecoffee, dick & bruce & clark & j'onn, 6.6k      (Bruce Wayne also knows how it feels to be a scared little boy who just watched his parents die, telepathic mind meddling aside, and has had his eyes fixed on Dick Grayson since his parents fell, so of course he’s going to get him. It’s all he can do.) (Or, Dick Grayson is a traumatised alien empath with bad timing, and Bruce Wayne still needs to learn how to verbalise his emotions.) ✦ The Bone Road by scpnightwing, dick & bruce & alfred, 63.8k wip      By night, Robin was his partner in crime, but once the sun rose, all Dick could be was a mirror of his tragedy, haunting his halls and asking for more than Bruce had in him to give. (The early days of Batman and Robin, and the many mistakes therein) BATFAM FIC RECS - EVERYBODY LOVES DICK: ✦ The Shape Of You (Was Jagged And Weak) by WinterSky101, dick & bruce & jason & tim & slade & cast, 40.6k      Six months ago, Nightwing died. They never found the body. Last week, Deathstroke arrived in Gotham. He brought a partner with him. ✦ We Were Built to Fall Apart by CamsthiSky, dick & bruce & tim, 1.2k      Dick is hurt, tired, and ready to let go. Bruce doesn’t seem to be ready to let him. ✦ It’s a Wonderful Earth-218 by BeatriceEagle, dick & bruce & past dick/babs & cast, 7.4k      As Blüdhaven burns, Dick makes a wish that he’d never been born. He wakes up in a world where that’s true, being followed around by a supervillain who just really wants to get back to taking over the world. ✦ the higher fidelity by birdsofthesoul, dick & bruce & damian, 3.6k      Bruce goes sheet-white, looking like Dick’s just cut him to the quick, and Dick can’t help but think they should have booked a flight, discretion be damned. This — this is why they don’t do road trips. Cars are like confessionals, cramped spaces built for coercing confessions, and neither of them are good with words. ✦ Theory of Relativity by CamsthiSky, dick & bruce & jason & cast, de-aged!dick, 2.2k wip      In which Dick Grayson gets de-aged and everybody freaks out ✦ hold the fort (for i am coming) by deargalileo, dick & bruce & jason & tim & duke, de-aged!dick, 3.6k      Jason’s jaw dropped. The tiny human child toddled in front of him, gripping at his pant legs. Automatically, he bent his knees slightly. The child lost its grip, and fell flat onto its ass. They both froze. The child’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly. “No no no, don’t cry,” Jason rushed out. He leaned down and scooped the child into his arms. “Don’t cry, okay?” The child grabbed onto his shoulder as Jason settled it (him?) onto his upper hip. Big, blue eyes blinked up at him, shining with unshed tears. When the fuck did B have the time to adopt a new kid? ✦ There’s Always Another One by lapsedpacifist, dick & hal (& bruce), 2.5k      After Bruce kicked Dick out, there was a very particular place Dick decided to visit. Well, visit, hide in, it was all one and the same. He could do it without Bruce! Just a shame Hal was finished with his assignment a week earlier than anticipated. ✦ The True Sons of Batman by PandasandDucks13, dick & bruce & damian & jason & talia & cast, 10.8k      What if Dick Grayson was Bruce Wayne’s biological son? ✦ Hey! He Attempted a Coup! by PandasandDucks13, dick & bruce & clark & justice league & zod, 3.1k      What if Dick Grayson was a Kryptonian? ✦ Unsteady by 60sec400, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & barbara & cast, 14.8k      Nightwing is 22 when he’s hit by, well, something. They haven’t actually figured that out yet. But now he’s ten years old and a child and Damian struggles to see the man who he had looked to as a father forget who he ever was. De-aged fic. AU. BATFAM FIC RECS - DICK AND DAMIAN WERE THE BEST BATMAN & ROBIN, I’M NOT HEARING ARGUMENTS ABOUT THAT EITHER: ✦ Mirage (What I See In You) by SilverSkiesAtMidnight, dick & damian, 3.4k      Grayson’s gaze flicks upwards to meet his, and suddenly his expression softens. He smiles. “It’s okay,” he says, the movement of his lips clear even if his voice sounds like it’s coming through a broken radio. Suddenly, he’s pressing a rebreather to Damian’s face. His own rebreather, whole and unbroken. ✦ The Dog Days Are Done by fishfingersandjellybabies, dick & damian & cast, 3k      Dick is a good guy. He is. He knows that. Just like he knows that bribing your wayward, animal-loving, emotionally-traumatized brother to come see you with a puppy is exactly what all good guys do. That was a fact. ✦ To the Moon by theLiterator, dick & damian, 9k      A newly resurrected Damian Wayne does not believe Dick Grayson is dead. Spyral has been quietly helping to deal with the aftermath of Leviathan’s reign of terror and is wary of clones. Dick Grayson does not believe Damian Wayne is alive. (Together they fight crime, but’s always been true, hasn’t it?) ✦ Redemption Lies Plainly in Truth by SilverSkiesAtMidnight, dick & damian, 6.2k      Damian tries to pull his wrist out of his grasp. Any other time, Dick would let him go without hesitation, always careful to make sure his personal space is respected. This time, he catches his other wrist as well, gentle but firm as he crouches down to make eye contact. “Hey,” he says, smiling gently. “Do you trust me?” ✦ whether you’re high or low by Anonymous, dick & damian & jason, 1.9k      Dick’s first visit back to Gotham in a while ends with a shattered TV screen and more questions than answers for Damian and Jason. ✦ wrap myself in a thin sheet of ice by emavee, dick & damian, 3.3k      Damian falls victim to a witch’s curse, giving him a week to live before his heart turns to ice. There is a cure, but there’s no way someone like Damian would ever receive a kiss of true love. ✦ as love carries its strength, but not its labels by AlterHarpia, dick & damian, 2.7k      Bruce is on a trip beyond Earth’s Solar System for longer than he intended, making Dick and Damian fall into an old pattern. “I’m not Batman.” A mere reminder, perhaps, but when said to Damian it always sounds like an apology. BATFAM FIC RECS - BATKIDS ALL HAVE MANY SIBLINGS AND THEY’RE ALL PETTY ASSHOLES AND/OR WONDERFUL BABIES AND I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE BEING: ✦ Say Uncle by Megaerakles, tim & jason & bruce & dick & steph & cast, 46.3k      Tim is prepared to take the steps necessary to ensure that Bruce will not feel obligated to adopt Tim when a comatose Jack Drake inevitably dies. But what could be better than preventing Bruce from ending up with a son he doesn’t want? Bringing back the one he does. Jason agrees to the Replacement’s stupid, stupid plan to invite some strange adult man he’s never met to come live with him, if only to keep the idiot alive long enough for him to serve his purpose in the Great Red Hood Revenge Scheme. Might this new roommate situation have an impact on either of their worldviews? Surely not… ✦ Ain’t No Compass, Ain’t No Map by ebjameston, tim & jason & dick & cast, outsider pov, 51.8k      A CPS agent gets sent to investigate a tip that Tim Drake has been abandoned by his parents and is living with the Red Hood. The CPS agent leaves with no Tim Drake, a date with Red Hood’s lieutenant, and an intern who’s promising to fix the IT systems at his office. It’s a weird day for Theo. ✦ The Longer You Stay by emiv, bruce/selina & dick & jason & tim, 64.3k      Bruce Wayne was never meant to be part of Selina’s clean slate. Then again, neither were a circus boy, a street rat or a rich kid. For a girl who didn’t like strings, Selina found herself getting attached. ✦ Falling, Catching by Freezer7, dick & jason/roy, 4k      The call comes in at two thirty-four am, on Dick’s first night off in three weeks. ✦ Piñata by Maximum_Quinn, bruce & dick & jason & tim & cass & steph & duke, 2.2k      “I found… something weird today.” “Weird how?” “I was checking out that half-destroyed apartment building today, and there was, like… papier-mâché everywhere? In Robin colors.” (Duke learns about an odd tradition between the Bats and the Rogues.) ✦ Five Times Dick Was Tim’s Safety Net and One Time Tim Was Dick’s by PrinceJakeFireCake, dick & tim, 5.2k      “Tim forced his gaze away from his phone, took a moment to breathe deeply, then tried to figure out the best way not to die anytime soon. For Bruce. For Alfred. For his friends. For Dick.” Dick has always been there for Tim, even before they knew each other. ✦ wet teeth, shining eyes, glimmering by a fire (who will i be tonight?) by lifetimeoflaughter, dick & jason & cast, 2.3k      They’re standing on a rooftop. It’s not very high up; only about ten floors, give or take. The moon isn’t out tonight. It’s dark. It’s too dark to tell if it’s blood that’s dripping from Jason’s gloved fists. ✦ smeared with oil (like david’s boy) by call_me_steve, bruce & dick & tim & damian, de-aged!damian, 2.1k      Dick’s leaning over the edge of the couch, watching a tired Bruce stare lovingly down at the baby cradled in his arms. The baby’s swaddled in soft green blankets, probably procured by Alfred at some point or another. It’s hard to believe that this is actually Damian- Damian, and his big, bright, brown eyes; his soft, baby hair; his pudgy cheeks and small fingers. Clear of a snarl and frown and, instead, reduced to soft babbles and the occasional giggle. In his chest, Dick’s heart flutters. He feels his breath stop for all of a moment- God, this kid already has him wrapped around his finger. “Can I hold him?” ✦ There in the Sudden Blackness by CamsthiSky, dick & tim & damian, 1.7k      Tim and Dick argue, and at the end, Tim’s not actually sure if either of them actually won. ✦ The Mechanics of a Hug by incogneat_oh, dick & tim & damian & bruce, 4.1k      “So,” Tim ventures. “It's… what, a cuddle pollen?” Bruce just shrugs. “Something like that.” ✦ Taking Care of Business by Nokomis, dick & tim, 1.7k      Tim (only somewhat reluctantly) accompanies Dick on an undercover mission at an Elvis convention. ✦ where were you when I was king in this part of town? by Cerusee, dick & jason & bruce, 4k      The teen sitting next to him had mostly polished off his pork noodles, and he was eyeing Nightwing’s. Nightwing handed them over without a word. “Why,” he said, more to himself than the kid, “why, oh, why do I feel like I know you?” Because you do, came the unbidden thought. ✦ head in the clouds by Alienu, dick & jason & tim & damian, 4.7k      “Hey,” Tim says out of the blue. “Has anyone ever noticed that Damian has, like, weirdly sharp canines?” Dick makes a face. “What?” he asks. Then seems to think about it a little more, and says, “Oh, I mean… kind of? I don’t really pay attention to his teeth.” He turns to Damian. “Robin, let me see your teeth.” The kid growls. “I’m not afraid to bite you, Nightwing.” “Furry,” Jason coughs. Damian throws a batarang at him. ✦ A little more heart and soul by ruesyblues, dick & jason & damian, 2k      What do you do when the brother you raised and loved and left now seems to be withdrawing and you want the best for him but you’re not sure if you did the right thing and oh fuck what if you made a mistake?? (Dick wants Damian to be happy. He just has no clue how to accomplish that.) ✦ To Reconcile by CasualDanger, dick & jason, 2.4k      “Babs slapped me at your funeral.” Jason goes to laugh, but it’s just a cough and his mouth barely even twitches up. “She hated me in that moment. I mean, really, really hated me, like I did Talia after I found out Damian had died. And I wondered,” his voice cracks, eyes glassy now, “did you hate anyone when I was gone? Because I was gone?” ✦ damian clone triplets!!! by drakefeathers, dick & bruce & damian, 2.1k      Bruce finds and rescues three baby Damian clones~!!! babies~!! ✦ fear toxin (◡‿◡✿) by drakefeathers, dick & bruce & jason & tim & cass & steph & damian & alfred, 3.6k      six drabbles about batkids crying and screaming after being dosed with scarecrow’s fear gas~ (⊙‿⊙✿) ✦ Two Birds, One Stone(d) by MichaBerry, tim(/kon) & bruce & dick & jason & alfred, 5.8k      After a drugs bust gone sideways, Tim is a very high little bird. Cue shenanigans and family bonding. BATFAM FIC RECS - I WILL DIE ON THE HILL THAT TIM DRAKE’S TRUE LOVE INTEREST IS CONNER KENT AND NOBODY CAN STOP ME, NOT EVEN GOD: ✦ Trust fall by Ididloveyou_once, tim/kon & damian/jon & dick & jason & bruce & cast, nsfw, 22.4k      Damian was… here. At Kent Farm. Dressed in the too-big Batman pajamas that Dick had bought him last Christmas as a joke. And- And- Tim was wearing Kon’s t-shirt and his hair was messy and his lips were swollen and- He wasn’t ready for this- He wasn’t- He couldn’t- BATFAM FIC RECS - TAKE THE ANGST DIAL, TURN IT UP TO ELEVEN, AND BREAK THE KNOB OFF, THAT’S WHAT I’M HERE FOR: ✦ Hard Truths and Other Realities by CKBookish, dick & bruce & jason & clark & wally & cast, 113.6k wip      Clark shifted his weight making the floorboards creak and groan under his feet. “Dick I hate to see you–” He paused searching for the right word. Dick snorted. “Wallow?” Clark sighed. “That’s not what I was going to say.” “I know. I can go to the barn and hang out there if I’m bothering you and Lois.” Dick pushed himself up. Of course he should have thought of that. Lois didn’t want some random teen laying around her home on Christmas Eve. ✦ You Won’t Wake Up Alone by DawnsEternalLight, dick & bruce & damian & jason & tim, 5.2k      Dick’s captured and drugged and probably about to die. The last thing he wants to do is die in front of his family, especially not his baby brothers, all he wants is to be with Bruce and feel safe again. ✦ The Robin Manual by lurkinglurkerwholurks, dick & bruce & damian, 2.3k      Bad days were nothing new. Most of the time, he could feel them coming the way a swimmer could feel the approach of something huge beneath the surface of the water. The pressure would start to build, tugging at him like undertow by the shore, and it was always a gamble to see how long he could tarry before the pull yanked him under. ✦ the world is ending and i’m still numb by Arwriter, dick & bruce & jason & tim & alfred & cass & stephanie & damian & barbara & duke & cast, rape aftermath/read the tags, 20.7k      She’s gone, and he’s home, but Dick doesn’t know how to move on. He isn’t alone, but that doesn’t mean he knows how to ask for help. ✦ Up High by CamsthiSky, dick & damian, ~1k      “Grayson, what are you doing up here?” Dick shrugs, a sad smile pulling at his lips. He’d stopped asking that when his feet first started to take him up here years ago. “I like the view.” ✦ here comes the rain again by pocketofsky, dick & jason & tim & damian, rape aftermath/read the tags, 14.1k      Dick doesn’t patrol when it rains. Not since Blüdhaven. And everyone knows that, but they don’t know why. Or: Dick slowly but surely confronts his trauma. Now featuring: a train, pain, and a lot of rain. ✦ Happy Little Bluebirds Fly Beyond the Rainbow (Why Oh Why Can’t I) by honeycombclaire, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & cass, 26.9k      After being subjected to the Mad Hatter’s dream machine, Dick gets stuck in a dream world where he finally has everything he wants. His parents are alive, his family is together, and he still gets to be Nightwing. Everything is perfect. Using the machine, the Bats invade Dick’s mind to bring him back. They don’t expect to find out just how much Dick has been hurting. ✦ Maybe, just maybe, he should call Bruce…Nah. by memearchive, dick & bruce & jason & tim, rape aftermath/read the tags, 5.8k      “Yeah, 34 deaths, 35 including Blockbuster, is a lot. Yeah, his home and everything he owns is gone. Yeah, his safehouses and everything in those are all ash, too. Yeah, yeah, yeah, he gets it- but he’s dealt with loss before, and maybe 34 is a bit high, and maybe he could have stopped Tarantula, but he’s never been like this before. Not even after his parents’ deaths, and that’s a terrifying thought. Was this really the thing that broke him?” ✦ right through my walls by wingdingery, dick & bruce & barbara & jason & alfred, 6.6k      Sure, yes, Bruce and Jason attacked Dick and left him injured—but they were under the effects of fear toxin, so it wasn’t really them. Dick’s gone enough rounds with fear toxin to understand that. He’s perfectly fine with what happened. Now if only the rest of the family would believe him. ✦ gray by iselsis, dick & bruce, 1k      Grief demands to be felt, but Dick doesn’t have to be alone. ✦ How Far Love Goes by BeatriceEagle, bruce & dick & jason & tim & cass & barbara, comics violence as child abuse/read the tags, 99.5k      Plenty of family reunions end in fighting. Not that many end in explosions. A mass Arkham breakout brings all of Bruce’s children home, and with them, all the drama, secrets, and anger they’ve been keeping for years. Amidst rising tensions and a mysterious new threat in Gotham, the family has to work together to round up the rogues—and confront their feelings about each other. BATFAM FIC RECS - THROW BABY DICK AT BATTISON, C'MON DO IT, IT’LL BE HILARIOUS: ✦ romanticize a quiet life by lwbones123, dick & bruce & alfred, 3.7k      it’s parent teacher conference day for battinson and his robin ✦ when i call you come home by lwbones123, dick & bruce & alfred & jim, 3.2k      ummm battinson and his robin and angst and hurt/comfort idk how to summarize this one so you just have to trust me ✦ Dark by Cant_Smoke_Eggs, dick & bruce & alfred, 1.9k      aka Baby Dickie thinks Bruce is a Vampire. Bruce thinks he’s figured out he’s Batman. Misunderstandings and Identity reveals ensue. ✦ Just Two Dads Having a Chat by red_jaebyrd, dick & bruce & clark & kon, 1.5k      “I’m not giving you an interview, Kent.” “You always say that, and I always tell you that I’m not here for an interview,” Kent laughed, not at all bothered by Bruce’s aloofness. “We’re just two dads at soccer practice having a chat.” ✦ I Don’t Think Like I Should by shipNslash, jim & barbara & dick & bruce & cast, 13.2k      Featuring unmasking vigilantes as a father-daughter bonding activity, awkward small talk between two dads (both at crime scenes and PTA meetings), and Babs and Dick’s natural progression from classmates to besties in the name of chaos. This is a direct sequel to I’m a Good Pretender but can be read as a stand alone.

A/N: hey guys, I wanted to apologize for the lack of content first and foremost, my head has been a total asshole which makes it a little hard to write sometimes. So here’s a little something I wrote on a whim in an effort to get some feelings out. You're more than welcome to continue on to my other works that'll hopefully come out today. sorry for any mistakes, I didn't really feel like proofreading.

Character: Emily

Type: One Shot (Emily x depressed!reader, Angst, Hurt/Comfort)

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Inhale. Exhale.

It was a simple exercise that you had been tought in life when the clouds in your head began to thunder.

All you wanted was to calm the voices in your mind. You closed your eyes, letting the calming air of heaven fill your lungs. But it wasn’t enough. It never was, was it?

Maybe you were foolish to have thought that things would get better once you made it to heaven. Now, several years down the line you weren’t so sure that was the case anymore.

You were brought back to the reality around you when the bench on which you sat shook as the other occupant shifted. She had been talking quite animately about something that you had unintentionally began to tune out, lost in your thoughts. Something about an upcoming meeting with the daughter of the morningstar, whatever that meant. You were sure that she had explained 

God, how had you managed to keep the conversation going with your bullshitted half-answers?

You didn’t deserve her. 

You didn’t deserve any of this.

This was the most constant line from the little devil on your shoulder, repeating itself time and time again.

Emily was like a star that burned bright in a sea of darkness. A literal angel with a smile that shone just as bright as the sun. She was a Seraphim, a Joy Bringer at that. And you were... you.

You weren’t entirely sure how, but she had found you again. Though you supposed it wasn’t too hard to find sitting on some random bench in the middle of one of the numerous parks in heaven.

A hand on your arm pulls you out of your thoughts. Her touch felt light the sunlight on a cool autumn day, soothing, warm. More than you deserved.

“Hey, are you okay?”

No. Not at all, you wanted to say. But instead, you let your mask fall back into place, a small smile taking to your lips.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

You didn’t want to lie, but what else could you say?

The Joy Bringer seemed to accept this, as she turned her attention to a group of angels chatting at a picnic nearby. You watched them as well, welcoming the distraction

“Y’know,” Once more you glanced over to the usually beaming angel. You were greeted by a sad smile that made your stomach churn. “You don’t always have to lie.”

How-

Had you really been that obvious? How could you have let yourself be so stupid?

“I’m not completely naive.” Emily reminded, finally looking back at you. You knew she meant nothing by it, but even still you shrunk into yourself. Of course, she knew. It seemed you had been the naive one 

"I just don’t get it.” You admitted, shoulders saggingas you finally looked back at her. Ever constant, the seraphim offered you a gentle smile, reassuring. It nearly broke your heart, you’re voice wavering as you continued on. “Why do you care so much? Why do you always go out of your way to come find me?" 

And, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, the young seraphim answered. "Because I love you." And just like that, your vision began to blur.

You hadn’t even realized your unshed tears had spilled over onto your cheeks, not until the joy bringer gingerly brushed them away with a steady d hand. Unconsciously you leaned into the touch before a sudden sob wracked your shoulders, warmth radiating from her hand. It felt as if a dam within you had been opened and suddenly, you were weeping. 

Emily was quick to react, wrapping you in a hug. Clutching to the back of the angel’s dress you felt as if a dam within you had begun to crumble. 

The seraphim's voice came out as a whisper as her wings settled around you. "It's okay, I'm here for you."

The cabin in the woods - Kinktober 15

Summary: You only wanted to clean out the family cabin...

Written for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor’s Roo's HalloCream Extravaganza writing challenge. I totally forgot I signed up for the challenge. Sorry, this one took me so long.

My prompt was: While cleaning out the old family cabin, you begin to suspect that someone else has been living there...

Square filled for @buckybarnesbingo: C3: Winter Soldier

Pairing: Winter Soldier x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, creepy vibes, fear, choking (non-sexual), dark winter soldier, no happy ending, implied kidnapping/keeping the reader, irresponsible behavior (driving while being tired)

Trope/Kink: non-sexual choking

Words: 1,3k+

A/N: We are halfway through kinktober. So, we are getting a creepy little story today.

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

Exhaustion is taking a toll on you. For days you are traveling across the country to clean your family cabin out. Of course, no one else from your family wanted to help you.

“Fuck,” you struggle to keep your eyes open, while you fight the overwhelming tiredness you are experiencing from driving for too long.

Close to reaching the cabin you don’t want to stop and pay for a rat-infested motel and dirty sheets. Why waste money on something you can have at your family’s cabin too?

“So close,” you yawn and rub your eyes with one hand. Just a few more minutes and you can lay down. Tomorrow you’ll clean out the cabin and be on your way back to civilization and away from memories leaving a bad taste in your mouth.

You shudder at the memory of your last encounter with your grandfather.

Something was wrong with him at that time. Until that day, you remember your grandfather was the most caring person you could imagine. Suddenly he was a completely different person.

Your grandfather yelled at your father, blaming him for a failure. He pushed your father against a wall and almost hit you when you tried to stop him from hurting your father.

Honestly, you didn’t understand half of the things they were talking about. You were barely eight years old.

Another yawn escapes your mouth when you take the small path leading to your family’s cabin. It’s a miracle you made it to the cabin in one piece. “Almost there.”

Slowing the car down you try to park it close to the cabin. It’s already pitch-black, and your eyes are burning from driving for so long.

You kill the engine when you see the front door, illuminated by the headlights of your car.

“Home sweet…whatever.” 

Before you get out of the car, you crack your neck. It’s past midnight and you are ready to fall asleep in your seat.

You force yourself to get out of the car and open your trunk to get your bag out.

After a good night's sleep, you’ll start cleaning out the cabin.

Hopefully, it will only take you one or two days. You can hardly wait to drive back home and spend some quality time with your boyfriend.

Stepping inside the dark cabin you use your phone, instead of looking for the flashlight in your trunk. You’re too tired to do more than lock the door behind you and walk straight toward the small bedroom in the back of the cabin.

You drop your bag to the floor and shove your jacket down your shoulders. The last thing you are capable of is kicking your shoes off before lying down on the bed.

Sleep consumes you only minutes later.

The cabin is silent, except for the creaking of the floor, indicating you are not alone…

“No, Mickey…wait,” you groan as your boyfriend refuses to help you clean out the cabin. “The bedroom doesn’t look so bad. It’s rather clean.”

Frowning you look around the room. It’s not a lie. The room looks clean, almost sterile. Now that you think about it, the sheets smelled clean too. There is no dust on the nightstand, and there is a carpet on the floor you have never seen before.

“Wait, I…” your boyfriend hangs up, ending the call before you can talk him into helping you. “Asshole.”

You slowly get up from the bed to have a look around the room. You didn’t imagine things. It should be covered with dust and filth after not having seen any visitors for over ten years.

“Maybe they try to fuck with me. I bet Cara was here with one of her loser boyfriends without telling us so,” you huff. “But they couldn’t clean out the cabin. Great.”

There is no use in moping around. No one will help you clean out the cabin. You’re on your own as so often since your grandparents died in an accident.

After you hastily redressed, you decided to clean out the bedroom first. There wasn’t much you wanted to keep. Only the picture frame from the nightstand and a broken pocket watch you found under the bed. You never saw the watch before, but assume it belonged to your grandfather.

“All done here, let’s get to the other rooms,” you grumble under your breath. You’re still angry at your family, boyfriend, and friends. Everyone let you down this weekend.

As you step inside the living room, you wonder again. It’s as clean as the bedroom. Even the old sheets you put over the couch and armchair are gone.

“I don’t get it. They all said no one was here for years.”

Walking further inside the living room you frown deeply. The picture frames on the shelf above the fireplace are empty. All the pictures of your grandparents and parents are gone.  

A cold shiver runs down your spine. Something doesn’t feel right. The cabin is clean, and many things you wanted to take with you are gone.

But there are also new things. Like the carpet in the bedroom and the pocket watch you found under the bed.

Now there is a knife on the coffee table. Not a normal knife. No. This one looks like a combat knife from one of those cheap action movies Mickey loves watching.

“This can’t be,” you try to assure yourself, but your racing heart tells you otherwise. Your flight or fight instinct kicks in. It’s not your imagination. Someone was at your family’s cabin or still is.

“You’re imagining things.” You say a little louder. “I should get the other moving boxes and pack things up.”

Your car keys and phone are in the pocket of your jeans. If only you could make it to the door without running into whoever is hiding at the cabin, you’re out of the woods.

Glancing around the room you try to even your breathing. If you imagined things, so be it. You can come back here with Mickey and your friends next weekend and never tell them you panicked.

If not…

Before you can decide against it, you go for a sprint, running toward the front door. You grab the door handle, tugging at it only to find it still locked.

“Fuck,” fishing the keys out of your pocket you pray that you lost your mind. If not, you just saw a man storm toward you.

“Don’t move!” His hand is around your throat before you get the chance to unlock the door. “What are you doing at my home?”

You claw at his hand, but it’s no use. The hand holding your throat in a tight grip is made of metal. Tears spring from your eyes as his hold on your throat tightens. If only he presses a little tighter, he’ll break your windpipe.

“P-lease,” you trash around, fighting with all you’ve got. “P-“

“Who are you?” He leans closer, cold blue eyes searching your scared face. “Are you with them? Did you come here to kill me?”

You try to shake your head and tell him you’re only here to clean out the cabin, but he won’t listen. “Who are you?”

“Cabi-n…grandpa,” it hurts fighting him. You’re in severe pain, but he won’t let up. He holds your life in his hand, still demanding answers as your ears begin to ring.

You try to scratch his face, neck, or any part of his skin you can reach. You’re dizzy and your head feels like it’s going to explode. The fight is lost. You know it’s only a matter of seconds before you'll lose consciousness.

Breathing feels impossible, and your eyes roll back as he leans closer again to sniff at your hair. “It doesn’t matter who you are, doll.” The man whispers lowly.

The hold on your neck loosens the moment you drift into darkness.

Your body falls against his chest, and he smiles darkly. “I’m going to keep you. It gets lonely up here. I could use some company...”

Tags in reblog.

Hi, first of all I would like to say that your blog gives me so much comfort. You seem like such a loving and kind person and I love to read your writing. I adore the co-parenting series and am honestly looking forward to reading more parts <3 (no pressure tho, just wanted to say that I love it)

Actually, I wanted to make a request. The song 'Deep Sea' by 'Snail Mail' has been stuck in my head for weeks, the lyrics kill me every time and I could imagine some heartbreaking angst based on the song. I saw that you don’t write reader or character deaths and it doesn’t have to be that. Maybe a breakup or something like that, it’s really up to you and up to whatever the song might inspire you to write. For the pairing I love Gojo and also Getou or Choso, but I just want you to write whoever you like! 🤪

I had the idea for that request earlier today and made a post about it (that I have since deleted) because you came to my mind and I just really wanted to try my luck and ask you if you would maybe like to write about it 💞

Hope you’re having a great day, thank you <3

it took so long to know someone like you (gojo x you)

cw: breakup, chest-aching angst, swearing, emotionally constipated satoru where he doesn't know how to be vulnerable with someone so his first instinct is to push them away :))))))))))

note: HI!!! thank you for the love, i'm so sorry that this is so late, hopefully you still like it. pro tip, listen to travis atreo's cover of "when she loved me" along with the song mentioned to make reading this extra painful. again, thank you for the love and the ask. i hope you like this!!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

"don't look at me like that."

"if you don't like it, stop looking," you laugh humorlessly, feeling your heart twist like a wet rag with every shallow breath. "you just told me you don't want me; i think it's valid i can look however i want." your voice breaks off at the end of the sentence and you blink at the darkening clouds above. a storm was coming, but you felt like one had already devastated you.

"that-that's not what i meant," he says through gritted teeth, avoiding your glaring eyes in shame. "i just need a break. is that so bad?" every word felt like a separate cut to your soul and you were slowly bleeding out in the fucking mall parking lot.

"but, why? i'm just not good enough for you?" you practically spit your questions like snake venom. you hoped they stung, hoped the burned into his memory like his promises that he'd give you a future. high and mighty gojo satoru, reduced to a puddle in your arms and vowing that he was yours forever. pathetic. "finally got tired of me, is that it?"

"no," he croaked. "no, no. i just-i don't know who i am when i'm with you." the sky was falling and you hoped the ground crumbled beneath your muddy shoes. "and, that scares me."

"you don't like who you are when you're with me," you echo hollowly, taking a shaky breath and pulling your jacket closer to your body like a safety blanket. "that's really a shame, since i really liked how you were with me," you huff another painfully mirthless laugh that turns into a sob. on instinct, he reaches out to touch you but you pull away like he was radioactive waste. "making all those lofty promises, letting me think that i was your forever and eternity and everything after that. you're really an asshole for that one, you know that?"

"i never said anything like that," he protests even though you know damn well that he's lying. raindrops start to catch on his hair, making it glisten like he was sent from heaven. too bad his words didn't match. "even if i said those things, i can't guarantee i actually meant it, so i'm sorry."

ouch.

"you're sorry? you're sorry?" you have to take a step backward or else you'd have actually slammed your knuckles against his infuriatingly perfect cheek. "gee, thanks! i'll remember that next time anyone says they love me," you hiss and relish in the way he flinches. "they could just be kidding, after all, right? stupid me." it took so long to finally get through to him, to stand steady enough that he let down his walls, and suddenly he was throwing them up again and shutting you out.

if you were completely honest and without your stubborn pride, you'd admit that you understood what he was talking about. it was a little lonely being with him, especially when you didn't have any more time for self-discovery without worrying about another human being. you lost track of time when you were with him and lost a little bit of yourself, too, and you weren't sure if he was adequately filling that emptiness. you had no idea how to discuss it, let alone navigate it, and it struck a crack that only grew larger. neither of you knew how to cope with this, it seemed, and that's how you ended up sobbing on the asphalt in front of the man you believed you were going to marry.

"don't you wonder who we could be without each other? we could be anyone," he insists but nothing gets through to you.

"i don't know who i am without you, satoru," you whisper defeatedly and it's like you can hear his heart start to crumble. he did this to you, and you watched him realize it in real-time. he didn't know what he was saying anymore. he felt too far deep in that he didn't remember why he was asking for a break in the first place. all that he knew was that he was hurting you and every nerve in his body screamed at him to fix it, fix it, fix it. you sigh tiredly, shivering in the cold sheets of water that were starting to fall. "look, if you need time, then take it. take all that you need."

"but-"

"no. i can't do this to myself if you won't even try anymore. goodbye satoru. a stupid part of me still loves you." as you slip into your car and accelerate away from him, he doesn't have the chance to say it back.

to tell you that the stupid whole of him still loved you, too.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

Does it count as a marriage if only one of them is aware?

AN: Is this a Sage and Aaliyah piece? Yeah. Am I proud of it? A lil. I don't know if it falls into their 'canon' timeline, but I think it's funny. Shoutout to the tweet that I got from pinterest that inspired this. May I hopefully find you one day.

He was going to commit a murder. An atrocity. A war crime so heinous they would carve it into stone tablets as a warning to future generations. She already was a thorn in his fucking side and then she pulls this shit? 

Un-fucking-believable. 

Slamming open the door, he remains ignorant to the lab assistant’s yelp, practically snarling as he spots Purah. She boredly looks at him over her shoulder, snapping her fan closed with a huff. “And a good morning to you-”

“Where the hell is she?” 

Purah grins. It’s something big and bright and he hates it. Asshole was probably in on it now that he thinks about it. Sheikah unity and all of that other bullshit. “Whoever do you mean?”

“You know who I mean, now you tell me where she is or I’m lighting Lookout Landing on fire.” He hissed low and dangerous, a firebulb already burning a hole in his pocket (not literally). He was going to get the information he wanted, whether they wanted to give it to him or not. He’d find her somehow, even if he had to scour this entire, goddess-forsaken fucking land. 

He’d find her and then he’d kill her for the shit she pulled. 

“Tick tock,” He mocked, reaching for the tablet on his hip. Purah scoffed with a grumpy furrow in her brows. “She’s in the depths, where she always is lately.” 

He took that for what it was, leaving and slamming the door behind him. 

When they couldn’t hear his angry cursings any longer, Purah turned to Josha with a grin. The girl looked positively frightened, as she often did when Link came around ranting and raving, but Purah paid it little mind. “He’s looking for his wife.” 

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware he was married?”

“Neither was he.” 

<><><><>

He should’ve checked here first. He was a fool to think she’d be anywhere otherwise, but yet? There she was. Sitting on a throne made of rock and marble with a devious grin on her face. She looked like the cat that caught the canary. In her left ear was the cursed piercing, still red and fresh, but holding a golden hoop. 

A part of him was thankful she didn’t get the idea to pierce his ears in his sleep. Another part of him was angry enough he could blow her up here and now and walk away, not a care in the world to be had. 

“What did you do?” He snapped, baring his teeth in her direction as Rauru’s arm flared to life. He had no intention of using any of the powers bestowed upon him, but it seemed to be a good deterrent for making her talk. Should she be feeling merciful enough.

Alas, however, it didn’t seem so as she leaned her chin on one of her hands. Her nails, long and sharp, glinted in the light of the torches around her. She looked like a vengeful queen tasked with the punishment of a traitorous soul. A cruel, wicked tyrant of a ruler. 

“I don’t know what you mean.”

He’d destroy her kingdom yet.

With a tense breath in, he ran a hand through his hair, trying to plaster on a well-mannered grin. “Well,” He let out a bark of ironic laughter. “You see, I was going on my way to visit the Sage of Water,  just to check up on him and you wanna know what he told me?” 

“You know I do.” She smirked. 

It took every bit of his patience to not wipe that fucking smirk off her damn face himself. Instead his fingers clenched into fists as that same anger bubbled up into a livid inferno that lapped at his insides and scorched his tongue. “He congratulated me for my recent marriage to the Sage of Spirits!” He spat, feeling comparable to the way he did after Ganon first returned. Angry and pissed and so blinded by red he didn’t care what happened. 

The woman paused, brows raised, and for the slightest hair of a heartbeat, Link almost thought she didn’t know what he was talking about (which just made him even more pissed). But then she snorted. The snort then turned into a giggle, which turned into several, which she tried to hide behind her hand before she was tossing her head back in an uproar of laughter. It rang in his ears, harmonic and heavy, but he couldn’t find himself to care. 

What a bitch. 

“Oh,” She breathed out at last, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye with a thumb. The rings on her fingers glinted and he noticed a suspicious lack of a gold band on her left ring finger. She did, however, have the earring so it was understandable. “Priceless. I was wondering when it would get back to you. I was almost getting bored. Feared I’d have to ruin the fun and tell you myself.” 

He grit his teeth so hard he was half surprised they didn’t turn to dust. “What do you mean-” 

“Glad Sidon did it for me though. He’s always had a big heart.” She waved him off before uncrossing her legs and standing. “It’s been fun though. Glad we could have this talk-”

“I’m not-” 

“But there’s shit to do. Little time, lots of work or however that saying goes.” A grin spread on her face. It wasn’t kind and it wasn’t nice. It was the equivalent of a wolf snarling at its prey. To show the nasty teeth often hidden in a warning. 

He was so distracted by her dumb face he didn’t even notice her taking out her own Purah pad. 

“See you later, hubby.” And then she was gone. 

Link blew up her throne before leaving, the only remainder being a selection of pebbles and small rocks. 

It didn’t make him feel better. 

<><><><>

Everywhere he went it was the same fucking thing. 

“How’s the wife?”

“Oh, you haven’t gotten your piercing yet? I bet you’re aching to do that!” 

“Must be preparing for the honeymoon, hey Link?”

And his personal least favorite. “Your wife had just stopped by! She said to expect you!” 

Like Aaliyah had any idea of what he did. She didn’t know his schedule. She didn’t know him at all! And he was just…what? Expected to roll with this? Go to the first fucking Gerudo vendor he saw and ask for a piercing? 

Not on his fucking life. 

He’d tear that piercing out of her ear yet and leave it bloody right in front of her dumb face. 

The matter was just getting close enough. 

It was true he was, admittedly, following her. He needed to get that fucking piercing. Word travels like wildfire in Hyrule and he knew she had some sort of ulterior motive. He just knew it. And he would either find out what it was or he’d make sure she wouldn’t be able to claim she was married to anyone else ever again. Win-win if you ask him. He’d either get in on whatever scam she was planning, take over and leave her with nothing, or he’d get the revenge he yearned for for sullying his infamous name. 

Now it was just a matter of tracking her down, which was easy enough. Aaliyah, if nothing else, was competitive. She liked a good game between them. She’d leave little tricks and clues for him to find in the most convoluted game of hide and seek he’d ever played. Maybe a certain berry was left lying around-- one he knew didn’t grow in that region-- or maybe there was a stray arrow, singed by the remnants of a bomb flower, lying broken on the path. 

She knew he was after her, and she probably knew what he’d do when he found her, but that was all this was to her. A game. This was one big giant game and he was the challenger. 

Or, contrarily, this was one big fucking joke to the Sheikah and Link was yet another punchline in this comedy act of a life.

<><><><>

“Looks like the dove finally got snared?” 

He watched, amused, as she pulled against the ropes wrapped around her. It was sneaky and underhanded, but at some point (and he’d rather fight the King Gleeok all over again before admitting it), he grew desperate. So, he rigged up a monster camp with muddle buds. Lots and lots of muddle buds. Every Bokoblin had at least four on their body, every Moblin six and even the TNT barrels were covered in them. 

Of course, when in the depths, if there’s an active monster camp, there’s a good chance Aaliyah wasn’t far behind. So, despite all odds, she took them out. The Bokoblins were taken out with the barrels, an arrow setting them all off, however she got cocky. The bow was put away and she sauntered into the camp, eyes on the chest prize in the middle.

A Moblin saw his chance, reared up and slammed his muddle bud lined head down. The Sheikah had dodged, but Link knew he’d won. He saw the expanse in her pupils, how the black seemed to swallow the gold irises and her cheeks became almost instantaneously flushed. She was dazed, but still finished off the disgusting beast with a practiced ease. 

Link, of course, saw his opportunity and took it. And now, here she was. Writhing about under him like the fucking worm she was and glaring up at him. Her eyes never focused, like she couldn’t make heads or tails on what she was seeing, just that she knew she didn’t like it. 

He nudged her with his boot and nearly got bit in the process. 

“Ooh, feisty little dove.” He teased, crouching to her level as he hauled her into a sitting position. She let out a low growl before trying to bite his face-- not that she got far with him holding her shirt the way he was. 

“Muddle buds? Really? That’s cheap, even for you.” 

“Even for me?” He feigned a pout. “That’s a little harsh. I was tryna have a decent conversation with you.” 

“I will fucking skin you and hang your ratty pelt like drapery.” 

He clicked his tongue with a shake of his head. “So violent. Shouldn’t women like you be more docile?” 

He nearly didn’t avoid the third snap of her sharp teeth. 

“What do you want? In case you haven’t noticed, some of us actually do our fucking duties. I have-”

“Shit you need to do, yeah I’ve heard.” Link rolled his eyes before returning them to the dazed Sheikah. “What’s your angle?”

“My fucking what-”

“Why tell people we’re married? What do you get out of it? Explain it to me.”

Aaliyah blinked slowly, brows furrowed as the information loaded in her brain, processed and she came up with a response. 

“Make me.” 

Was what said brain came up with. He’d kill her yet, he swears. With a scoff, he glared at her, watching as something akin to amusement brushed over her features. “I am. You think I’d drug you and tie you up for tea?”

“I don’t know, maybe you’re lonely.”

“Aaliyah-” What was the goddess thinking when making her? What part of the divine plan looked at him and went ‘Yeah, let’s make his life twelve times harder than it needs to be’? Because he had a complaint. Lots of complaints. Maybe there was a suggestion box where he could put in his very reasonable request of having her smited so he wouldn’t have to deal with her. “How’d you do it?” He settled on.

She hummed distractedly, head lolling about before she raised it to look at him. “You see, I went to Gerudo. They have these things called needles, and those needles pierced my ear, gave me the second hoop and then-” 

“I know how fucking piercings are done!” 

“Then it was just a matter of telling people we got hitched.” She grinned lopsidedly before pausing. “It’s very rude to interrupt by the way.” 

He grabbed her chin with a rough pinch of his fingers. “Yeah, well, it’s also not very nice to just decide you’re married to someone because you wanted another piercing.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know lots of people have liked my piercings in the past.” Aaliyah gave a salacious smirk, eyes darting down to her own chest before back up to him. 

What nipple piercings had to do with this, he wouldn’t know. “Name one person who liked your piercings.” 

“Your mom-”

He let out a war-hungry screech as she flitted away into blue. 

<><><><>

“Is it for tax purposes?” He called out, sliding to take cover behind a tree. An arrow pierced itself right where his head would’ve been and he quickly pulled it out and loaded it into his own bow. 

“You think I pay taxes?” Aaliyah called back, waiting for him to pop out and aim before letting a bomb arrow fly. It forced Link to roll out of the way, the edges of his shirt singed with ash. 

“I don’t think you do anything except make my life harder.” He snipped, shaking his hair out before letting a keese-eye arrow loose. It followed the Sheikah even as she darted behind a tree. It stabbed too deep into the trunk as she ducked for it to be reused, and she cursed, grabbing one of her own. 

“It’s a hobby.” She grinned. She didn’t have very many bombs left, less Keese eyes (This trip was supposed to be a restock trip before her loving husband showed his ugly face), and was running out of options just short of things that could cause serious injury. 

The quip she was waiting for didn’t come and she almost dared to poke her head out. Instead she laid low, watching the branches above her. 

Which did her no fucking good as a hand wrapped around her throat, pinning her to the trunk. Fucking Sheikah armor. 

“Then why?”

That’s all he’s ever been asking and it was starting to get on her nerves. No- how did you come up with such a great idea? No-Wow, you are so incredible and smart and what would I do without you? No- Wow Aaliyah, how did I get so lucky you decided to marry me?

Ungrateful fucking ass. 

“I mean, you’ll get to claim me on your taxes and people will stop hitting on you- not that I can imagine many do with your ugly mug.”

Link got up in her face, nose to nose and she could feel his sweaty breath on her chin. He should go away. 

“You could work with me, you know. Instead of against me. We could tear down this rotten fucking kingdom and build it anew.” He spoke at last, soft and hoarse. His eyes shined with vindication and valor and she wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

So she scoffed. “But I’m having so much fun. Learning what makes that little brain of yours just tick in agony and annoyance.” 

A beat passed between them. 

Then she raised a foot and kicked him square in the chest. Along the horizon the light dragon let out a strangled roar as it swooped close enough one could paraglide their way to its back. The whole reason Link was here, she’d bet. 

“Send her my regards.” Aaliyah gave a salute, letting shrine travel take her away yet again. 

<><><><>

The fire flickered underneath the metal pot steadily, licking up the sides and heating up the meat inside. He watched it blankly, mentally counting in his head before scooting over on the log he sat on. Predictably, there was a weight that sat right beside him, slumping with a clank as their gear was discarded beside them. 

Stables were neutral. Neither wanted to piss the horse god off, so they’d behave themselves here. 

Even if his skin itched with her sitting right there. There was nothing he could do, would do, unless she started something first. 

“How’s the lizard girlfriend?” 

“The fucking what-”

Early he had guessed this to be a game or a joke, but now he was certain she had just lost her mind at long last. Hurrah! He figured it out and eventually she’d be taken out back and put down. Something quick and merciful so she didn’t fall torment to her decaying mind. 

He did glance over to where she was watching the sky, golden eyes trained on something or another. He followed her line of sight and nearly lost his shit subsequently. 

“Are you-...Are you talking about Zelda?” 

“Zelda, lizard girlfriend, same thing.” She rolled her neck before stretching her arms out above her. “Weren’t you two supposed to get married before this whole Ganon thing?”

And the gears started turning. They turned and creaked and groaned, but they were moving in sync before it hit him. “Golden goddess above-”

“You look like you’re about to pass out-”

“You are a special kind of wicked.” 

“Flattery will get you everywhere-”

He turned to her and she suddenly clamped her mouth shut, like she could see what he was thinking. He was sure to an extent she could and she didn’t like what she was seeing. “That’s why you did it?!” 

“Did what-” 

“You started this whole campaign so you could say you married me before Zelda?! I was never gonna fucking marry her! Why do you think she’s still up there in the first place?!”  

The color drained impressively fast from the Sheikah’s face before she stood with a start. “This has been… something. Let’s talk again soon-” 

“Nuh-uh-” Link grabbed her wrist before she could disappear again. “Tell me that’s not the reason.” 

Aaliyah blinked, stared at him, and opened her mouth. Only to then let out a shrill whistle. Somewhere behind her, her horse came galloping up, its dark eyes locking on her as she grabbed its saddle on the way by. 

“Talk to you soon, hubby!”

<><><><>

Months later, he’s trekking in fuck-knows where, grumpy and grouchy. He hated the group of men he was with and he hated working for that fraud Hylia yet again. The boys around him never shut up and they never knew how to mind their own fucking business.

“Awful lot of jewelry.” One of them drawled with a lazy smirk on his features. Sage, as he had been proclaimed, scoffed. “I’m taking this from you? Your scarf looks like a fucking royal curtain.” 

The man sputtered before righting his features with an indignant scoff. Sage snickered before running his hand through his hair. “It’s not all decorative.”

“It’s not?” The youngest whirled around to look at him. “I thought you just like getting your ears pierced.” 

“I don’t. The first ones I got in the military. But this one?” Sage’s finger brushed against a second golden hoop hanging in his left ear. “This one means something.”

“Oh yeah, like what?” Blue scarf barked, probably still offended Sage didn’t immediately lie down and take the teasing.

“Means you need to shut your trap and keep walking.” He threw back, stomping forward. “I have a wife to get home to.”

Helloo, I’ve never requested a fanfic before, or on tumblr so ur my very first I’m excited ^^ ~ could you do a highschool au of like a bully!gabriel x nerd!reader where he becomes frustrated by the reader not reacting or caring about his bullying, so uses “extreme measures” to really grab their attention. non-con or dub-con, and daddy kink, if that’s okay 🤎

ok i hope u don’t mind i took some “creative liberties” with this lovely prompt and also made it college au but yea. this is an S tier request btw anon and you sucked me back into this shit so props to u 🤎 reader is gender neutral ofc (yes princess is a gen neutral term this is the 21st century)

“You’re not funny, Gabe,” you spoke through gritted teeth in an attempt to intimidate your tormentor, “give me my stuff back or else!”

He responded with a hearty chuckle, tossing your school bag into his locker and closing the door with swift kick. He was bouncing with laughter and amusement at your widened eyes, completely entertained by his own antics, “Yea? What the hell are you gonna do, tell your fucking dean? Go right ahead, see where that’ll get you with me.”

You couldn’t help but close your fists in the tightest grip you could muster, your jaw clenched and face burning red. You hated that he was right, not only was your first instinct to tattle on him, but it would get you nowhere. Gabriel Reyes was untouchable. The school’s quarterback with a promising future that would surely put them on the map once he continued with his career. It made you sick that this asshole would only get a slap on the wrist and a stroke to his ego if you asked anyone to do anything about his harassment of you. What could you do, then? There’s no way in hell you’re just going to sit here and take it.

“No, I’m not running to anyone. Trust me when I say this, you’ll regret messing with me!” The threat didn’t come out the way you intended. Your voice fell out with a crack in the midst of your reply, and tears threatened to fall from your wet eyes. You had hoped he might second guess his actions and consider that you might actually fulfill your promise. Instead, it seemed to have the opposite effect on him. It seemed to have egged him on even further.

His smile widened and he pushed you against the wall. You gasped at the impact, you could feel a dull pain on your back. Hopefully it wouldn’t leave a mark. Before you could get out of your dazed state, Gabe caged you in with his arms, looking down at you like a starved wolf, “You’re really gonna make this fun for me, aren’t you?”

“I’m not scared of you,” you whispered, breath unstable and heart pounding in your ears.

Gabe’s smile beamed. He looked like almost perfect, straight and impossibly white teeth. Full lips and sharp jawline with hints of facial hair. His eyes were dark, like a black hole pulling you in the more you looked into them. Keeping his gaze only revealed to you how weak you were under him. Something he must be aware of by the way he was forcing you to look at him.

He knew you found him handsome. You had told him as much the day you had met him. The day he set his sights on you. He had been much nicer to you then. Saying hi to you in the halls, asking if you wanted to sit with him during lunch, and not taking your shit and throwing it in his locker. But you never came around to him when he asked you if you wanted to go out sometime. You didn’t want to go out with anyone, you were far too focused on schoolwork and tutoring on the side. Dating and boyfriends was just something you didn’t have time for. So you had to refuse and be on your way.

Gabe never understood why you rejected him. How could you be too busy for him? You were always studying in the library, or just reading because you enjoyed it, you said. That’s what all this was about? Reading? That’s like asking your professor for more exams. What kind of masochist shit is that? You must’ve been into that considering all the shit you had to put up with from him.

But fuck, he just couldn’t help but taunt you. The way you insisted upon standing up for yourself even though your face read that you were completely terrified, it did something to him that he couldn’t describe. It made him want to break you. Tear you down and finally see you cry, beg him to stop, beg him to be nice. Just completely melt into him. He wanted to see you on your knees, on all fours, face level with his cock and crying for his forgiveness. For his attention. For any sense of mercy he had for you in his heart.

And you did nothing to quell his desires. Always so pompous in your academic achievements like you were to hottest shit in town. Just like when you became president of the debate club, you gloated about it nonstop until Gabe knocked the wind out of your sails. It didn’t piss him off that you were doing well. In fact, a part of him admired you for it. No, it was the fact that you pranced around so proud before him but you weren’t his. You weren’t asking him if you’d made him proud. Weren’t even talking to him about it. He had to hear about it from a friend of his who was into your nerd shit. Pissed him off to no end.

Now you were here. Trembling under him like a fucking pathetic worm. Yet, you still insisted on defying him. Denying him the pleasure of seeing you vulnerable before him. You were a tease through and through and Gabe was intent on getting what belonged to him. You stared up at him with wet eyes for what seemed like forever until the your phone alarm rang, signaling the start of your next class.

“Well, what do you know. Looks like it’s time for this bright little student to get to class,” he pushed himself away from the wall that had bruised your back, turning back to you, “Hope you didn’t need anything in that backpack of yours today, what a shame.”

……..

As turns out, you would need that backpack of yours. In fact, Gabe must’ve been a stalker creep because his timing couldn’t have been any better - or worse, for you. You had to give a presentation for your language comp class and both your laptop and flash drive were in your backpack. Of course you hadn’t factored in the fact Gabe was going to steal your shit. So, for the meantime, you were screwed until you could get it back.

Maybe this was an opportunity for you to reconcile with him, you thought. Sure, he was hot-headed and seemed sadistically interested in making you miserable, but you couldn’t keep going on like this forever. What was his end goal? You hadn’t the faintest clue, truth be told, but maybe if you could just cut the bullshit with him, go right to the brass tacks of it all and lay everything bare on the table, maybe, maybe, maybe the two of you could come to terms with whatever issues you had. You weren’t unreasonable but you had been stubborn with Gabe. You had hoped he was stop acting like a dick or get bored with you, but nothing you had tried with him so far was effective. So screw it. Might as well try to compromise with the guy and hope he could listen to reason.

Your class ended at noon, the busiest time at your school. Everyone was racing out the door and headed for the cafeteria. Among the crowd, you were determined to find Gabe and, most importantly, your school bag.

You had caught him in the hall standing next to his locker, chatting it up with Jack Morrison, class president and all around golden boy. This was your chance, you thought. You eagerly made your way towards them, Gabe noticing you maneuvering in the crowd in an effort to reach him. An effort that already had him grinning from ear to ear as he averted his attention away from Jack. Before you made you way to them, he was already gone. Gabe shooed him away with words you couldn’t make out, and the two of you were standing side by side in the bustling hall.

You stared at each other for a moment, not saying a word. He knew what you wanted, knew you were going to approach him at some point, but the intent on your face was not what he expected. Your brows furrowed, eyes almost pleading. Jaw slightly slack and bottom lip hanging open as if to speak but all that was heard was the crowd of hungry students running through the halls like a parade. It left him speechless, the very sight of you. You were speechless, too, not sure how to approach him without some form of hostility in your voice. But the halls soon cleared and the silence was deafening. You took a breath, trying to start the conversation.

Gabe spoke, interrupting you, “What do you want?”

It had been so long since you heard him speak that way. Still voice, no sign of amusement or taunting. Almost as if he were genuinely curious as to why you were there. But you both knew that wasn’t true. You decided to play along, let him lead.

“I’d like to have my stuff back,” you spoke with your voice as aloof as you could muster, looking at his locker, “I have a presentation next class and I need my laptop.”

He hummed in response, “Well,” he began to play with the lock, twisting it mindlessly any which way, “guess that means you want me to fetch it for you, right?”

You shrugged, “Not necessarily. I could get it myself if you prefer, I just don’t know your combo is all.”

He chuckled. The sound was so jarring to you, your body instinctively flinched. He looked up at you from the lock, meeting your eyes with that same predatory look from earlier. Everything was still for a moment. Then, Gabe straighten his posture and spoke, “You don’t need to know it. It’s not here.”

“Wha-” your eyes squinted in frustrated confusion. You exhaled, trying to keep your composure, “Okay, where is it? Do you think I could get it back before my next class?”

Gabe could tell you were starting to drop whatever act you were playing. It was cute to see you try to keep your cool with him, the muscles on his face were burning with delight, “Sure.”

You crossed your arms and sighed, starting to grow impatient, “So where is it?”

He turned away from you, slowly walking down the hall, “This way,” he whistled at you like a dog while motioning with his two fingers for you to follow him. How insufferable.

But you did. It seemed that your method had some impact on him. This could be the break you had been looking for. You followed him down the corridor, wrapping around the halls with him until he came to a stop in front of the boys’ locker room. He turned towards you, leaning against the wall looking ever so smug.

You mouth fell open and eyes widened a bit. Huffing, you shook your head, “No way.”

“What?” he kept his eyes on you, “Don’t tell me you’re too prissy to go into a locker room.”

“There’s no way I’m going to go in there with you, Gabe!” you raised your voice a bit in frustration. He couldn’t be serious, right?

“Christ, relax, princess. Coach is out for lunch and I swiped his keys earlier,” he shook his pockets which rang with the jiggling of the keys, “Go on in, nothing to be scared of.”

What he was describing had to break some kind of law, but it’s not like he’d really get in trouble anyway. Not everyone can do this kind of shit, but Gabe could. Even worse, he could get away with it even if he was caught. So what option did you have but to walk through the doors into the dank locker room that reeked of sweat. Much to your unease, Gabe followed behind you and locked the door. He raised the keys in his hands, letting you have a good look at them, “Gotta make sure no one sees us, right?”

You shook your head in disapproval, “Where’s my stuff? Or are you just gonna drag me around all day?”

He scoffed, “You got a real attitude problem, you know that?” Gabe grabbed your elbow in a tight grip. You gasped, struggling to escape his grasp, “Calm down, just come with me.”

“You’re hurting me!” You put your hand on his wrist in some attempt to get him off of you, and he thankfully obliged by pushing you away from him.

“Don’t have a high pain tolerance, I take it? All bark and no bite. Didn’t take you for the type with all those empty threats you spill,” he began walking off, “you coming?”

Although Gabe was mean to you, he had never really hurt you before. Not physically. It shook your core a bit, the atmosphere seemed all wrong and the fact he was your only way to escape did nothing but frighten you more.

“Gabe?” you softly called out his name, not wanting to go any further.

He stopped. Your voice cut through him like a knife. You had never spoken to him like that. He could hear the fear in your voice, hear you on the verge of pleading for him. He turned his head, but didn’t dare look you in the eyes, “What?” he spoke sternly, demanding an answer.

You weren’t sure what to say. So many emotions were running through you - mostly fear and confusion. This was something different than a fight or flight response. You couldn’t describe it, you didn’t want to run away or fight back. You just wanted to appeal to whatever sense of reason he had.

“Why don’t you like me?” your voice was weak, a kind of weakness you hadn’t spoken with in a long time. Completely vulnerable, willing to bare everything for just one moment of clarification. Just one reason why things were like this. It was something you were wondering all along, but could never bare to ask. The kind of thing that is sunken in the deepest pit of your subconscious, never baring its head until you’re backed up into a corner just like this.

He turns around slowly, deliberately. The look on his face is almost pitiful, but not authentic. He’s taunting you with a false vulnerability. Now you’ve done it. You’ve completely unraveled before him. He didn’t know this could be so easy. The two of you had been chasing each other in circles for the better part of half a year and it’s finally come to this. There was no farce, no tricks behind your words.

Three steps was all it took for him to close the gap between the two of you. Three agonizing slow steps. Your hands were clasped together, you didn’t even know why. You felt so small. He wouldn’t answer you. He just looked at you with that look on his face that mirrored yours yet had no purpose but to mock you. Like he was teasing you, just like he had always done. No, this wasn’t working for you at all. None of what you had been doing was working. He had set a trap for you and you foolishly fell right into it.

“Gabe,” you spoke, just barely above a whisper on shaken breath. He raised a hand to your cheek. It had barely touched you but the feeling of his calloused hand and the tension in the air had your flesh burning. Your eyes stung, too, as tears threatened to fall from them. Just like always, you fought at your instinct to cry. But you couldn’t stop a tear from sliding down your cheek and onto his hand.

“Gabe, please,” you were starting to raise your voice. You wanted to turn away, step back, retreat in some way. But he hand kept you there.

He crouched a bit, eyes level with yours. They were dark. Hazelnut brown and an empty black center that was so close to you, you could make out your own reflection. You could hardly recognize yourself.

“Look at you…” his voice was low, but affectionate. Like he was speaking to a wounded kitten, “And all this time I thought you were nothing but a brat.”

He lowered his hand from you cheek and onto the back of your neck. You felt a light squeeze from his grip and swallowed at the sensation, “As much as I want to keep you here, I think we both got places to be. Right, honey?”

Your face grew red with embarrassment at the sudden sweetness in his voice. He was talking to you like his pet, a part of you was relieved that he might not harm you but another part of you felt belittled and tormented. Still, you wanted to comply with him in some desperate hope to get out of this mess. So you nodded, mouth knit shut and eyes brimming with tears.

“Good. Then behave for me,” In a sudden movement, his hands gripped your shoulders tightly and you knees buckled in shock. You yelped as Gabe continued to push you down onto the floor. Your hands grabbed at his arms, trying to get him off of you but it was no use. He was far too strong for you to move him off of you. A hand moved to the back of your neck like before and another grabbed a handful of your hair and tugged gently, “The faster we get through this, the sooner you can get your shit and get out of here. If you don’t behave, then this won’t be pretty. Not one fucking bit.”

Gabe isn’t like you. He’s not the kind of guy who just says shit to scare people. When he declares his intent, he means it. And whatever picture he had in his head of what he was going to do to you if you didn’t comply, you certainly didn’t want to see it. You tried to relax your body as much as you could to cope with whatever he had planned for you.

His hand moved from your back and wrapped around your throat, the other forcing your head to look up at him. He didn’t grip hard but you were already choking on weak sobs and felt suffocated. You didn’t want to speak, didn’t want to piss him off or provoke him anymore than you already had. Apparently he didn’t mind, and pulled himself closer to you. His crouch was getting disturbingly close to your face, you averted your gaze away from him onto the floor.

Turns out, he didn’t like that. He tugged your hair to get your attention, “What’s the matter, you getting shy on me? Crazy, I never took you for the type. Always talking up a big game, but now look at you.”

With one swift motion, he unclasped his jeans. His briefs peaked through his open zipper and revealed his hard cock through the fabric. You gasped, not realizing what was happening up until that point. You had thought he was just going to beat the piss out of you. No, you couldn’t handle this. Mindlessly babbling, you begged him not to do this, asked him to please stop. Tears were running down your face frantically as you took in sharp, panicked breaths. Gabe soaked in the sight of you, growing larger at your pathetic display. This is exactly what he wanted. To tower over you, commanding complete control while you sit helpless before him. He grabbed a tuft of your hair, pulling hard as he forced your face onto his crouch. Your tongue spilled out and your hands tried to pull away from him but the more you pulled the harder he would grind into you. You could hear him laugh above you and felt his laughter vibrate through his body. It was useless, nothing was getting through to him.

He pulled you off of him and onto the floor. Before you could move, his legs caged you in before him, “C’mon, we’re just getting started.”

He grabbed your hair again, pulling you onto your knees. The floor was hard and cold and it didn’t take more than a few seconds for it to hurt your knees. You tried to get in a more comfortable position, but Gabe denied you at every turn. So you leaned on your knees, certain it would leave a mark.

Your face was level with his crouch and he made a display for you in undressing himself. Slowly tracing the band of his briefs, pulling down to show you the dark hair on his body. He was toying with you and enjoying every second of it, moaning with every touch. Part of you hoped that this was all he wanted, that he wouldn’t make you participate in bringing him pleasure besides watching. But when he sprung his leaking cock out of his briefs, you felt your self wanting to sink into the floor.

He was big and you were not prepared at all to take him. He stroked his cock, precum bubbling and drooling at the tip, “See that, baby” he hummed and laughed, enjoying himself, “You’re gonna clean up Daddy’s cock real nice, aren’t you?”

You didn’t think your face could get any hotter, but it did at that moment. More tears fell and you struggled to let out a normal breath. Gabe pulled harshly on your hair, “You better fucking answer me.”

It was too much. The stinging in your scalp, the hot tears on your burning face, the heavy beating of your heart in your chest. All you could do is resign yourself to his desire and pray to God this would all be over soon, “Yes, Daddy.”

He threw his head back and stroked himself faster, obviously very pleased with himself now that he had your total compliance. Exhaling, he looked down at the sight of you. Desperate tiny frame right next to his hard, leaking cock.

“Take it in your mouth. Don’t make me wait. I’m a busy man, I have shit to do.”

You opened your mouth and licked his tip clean, salty and slimey precum covering your tongue. Inch by inch you took him in your mouth. You fit half his cock in your mouth before his started pumping into you, lewd sounds of your gagging echoing in the empty room. Gabe groaned, hissed, growled in pleasure as he gently fucked your mouth, covering your face in spit and tears and his juices. You were a mess and he felt so fucking good. His thrust became faster, deeper and you choked on him with every one. You didn’t think you could possibly take him all in, but he forced your head down until your chin met with his plump balls and you nose was tickled by his pubic hair.

“That’s it, so good for Daddy,” sweat made his skin glow as he forced you deeper and deeper onto him, “you’re gonna swallow ever last drop of me, baby.”

You could hardly breath. Your mouth was full of the taste of him and the air around you smelled like his cock and sweat. He was all around you and you had no escape.

You sucked on his cock so hard your jaw felt like it was going to break. You just wanted this all to be over and done with. Fuck, all this for a fucking powerpoint presentation. Every part of you ached and burned. Even between your thighs, your own arousal was stirring without warning, desperately squeezing your thighs together for any sense of relief.

“You like that, baby?” he asked hoarsely, “If you weren’t such a fucking brat, maybe I would’ve let you cum.“

You cried out on his cock, sending waves of pleasure through him. He was getting close, frantically fucking your face with more fervor. It wasn’t long before he let go of your hair, putting both his hands on your head and using your mouth like a fucktoy.

“Don’t fuckin move baby, Daddy’s gonna cum right down your throat,” sweat dripped down his chest, right onto your lips as he held your face flush against him. In a few jagged pumps, he emptied himself in your mouth. It was warm and tasted so strongly of his cock that you couldn’t help but instantly swallow, not wanted to gag. More tears came rushing out of you. Thank God, it was finally over.

He let go of your face and you tore yourself from him, coughing and gasping for air. Gabe had to catch his breath, too. Leaning against a row of lockers, he cleaned himself off with a roll of paper towels nearby and redressed himself. You curled into a ball, completely humiliated and unsure what to do next. What time was it? Oh God, you still had to go to class.

You were interrupted when Gabe approached you, towel in hand. His chest was rising and falling, but he wasn’t panting anymore, “C’mon, get yourself cleaned up. I’ll get your shit.”

Reluctantly, you reached for the towel and cleaned whatever moisture on your face that hadn’t already dried up. Your hair was a complete mess. You tried your best to untangle it but there was no way you could fully restore it with just your fingers.

Gabe came back, your backpack in his hands. Your heart soared, relief washing over you, “Consider this a reward. You really impressed me today.”

You blushed, ashamed and not sure what to say. You felt embarrassed at having been so violated but a shallow part of you felt superficially flattered. You wanted to pull that part of you out and punch it in the fucking face.

He tutted, “You gonna be shy around me now? Shit, I don’t mind, you’re kinda cute like this.”

His arms wrapped around you in a soft hug and your body froze. This was all too much for you, “It’s okay, baby. Let me walk you to class. No one’s gonna give a shit if I’m late.”

“I don’t feel good,” you said softly, throat sore and raw after the abuse.

“Poor thing,” Gabe pulled away to get a look at your face. You still wouldn’t look at him. He felt like a fucking king when you were blowing him but looking at you now… Well he kind of felt like a shit head. But damn if you didn’t like good, “Skip class with me. Let’s get you something to eat.”

You didn’t want to be with Gabe right now. But you didn’t want to go to class either. You just wanted to go to bed, “Can you take me home, Gabe?”

“Of course, baby,” He stroked your hair and gave you and gentle kiss on the forehead, you recoiled, “Let’s get you home, alright?”

CONTINUED UNPOPULAR OPINIONS ABOUT STEP BY STEP, EPISODE 11

I will spare y’all my biting criticism with a read-more. But, TL;DR -- my review is short (for me, HA!), and I hand this show over lovingly to anyone who wants it. 

(Thanks to continued conversations with the inimitable @lurkingshan and the utterly lovely @neuroticbookworm to ensure I’m not going insane with these thoughts.)

At this point, I don’t know what narrative lens we’re supposed to be watching this show through*. Maybe a few of them, together, but that is striking me as an understudied, overambitious, overworked, and confused approach to understanding this show.

Is it a queer narrative about how Jeng has been closeted-ish/held back in his public queer identification for so long that he’s turned into an inconsistent, incommunicative, distrusting putz? Is there a connection between his family being disapproving of his sexuality, and/or him running away from a filial fate of taking over his dad’s company -- and him being a bumbling asshole to Pat?

Is it a trust narrative about how Pat can’t trust ANYONE? Put, Jeng, Jeng’s dad, the company, Toh? Maybe even Chot? (I’m just throwing that out there, since Chot sent him into the battlefield with Jeng during the last episode -- I love Chot, I ain’t blamin’ Chot.) (Maybe I analytically get to this narrative by... assuming Pat can’t trust anyone, since his loving, COMMUNICATIVE parents ended up getting divorced?) (And in the process of that divorce, we learn, in part, that Pat’s mom couldn’t find her full potential in life unless she was outside of the marriage?) [So maybe that’s what needs to happen to Pat? Since Jeng is CLEARLY UNDERMINING Pat’s efforts to be successful on his (Pat’s) own, in multiple ways, by really not allowing Pat to have control over his (Pat’s) own life?]

Is this a MACRO MACRO narrative commentary on the failings of BL tropes and the BL industry as a whole? (The reveal of the once-toxic Ying as a fujoshi?)

It could very well be all of these narratives at the same time. However, the execution of this storytelling, at this point, is so inconsistent and choppy that 1) I can’t exactly tell, and 2) I’m so frustrated about the amount of time that I’ve spent trying to understand this show that at this point, I don’t really want or care TO care.

To refer back to my first point (*) -- I think it’s unfair for me to demand that ANY show have a singular narrative lens. But I propose that Step By Step would have been an actually successful drama if it hadn’t tried to do so much. I’m EXTREMELY biased right now on this kind of analysis, because I’ve just finished Until We Meet Again for the Old GMMTV Challenge, and watched two narrative lenses in DeanPharm and KornIntouch come together into one cohesive story. (And, fuck, I cannot believe I’m saying this about a New Siwaj show.) I mean -- you can take filmmaking classes that can teach screenwriters and directors how to handle multiple narrative lenses successfully.

Maybe that’s the word: cohesiveness. I’m not seeing cohesiveness in Tee Bundit’s Step By Step. Instead, I watched an episode with actual minutes -- MINUTES! -- spent watching an office team held in tension as internet “likes” poured in. Looking at computers. I spent MANY MINUTES watching Jaab WAFFLE over MULTIPLE episodes going back and forth on Jen... only to discover that he missed Jen’s departure to Japan -- a Very Big Life Decision that Jaab just *missed.* Okay.

And.... we are left with the break-up of Jeng and Pat. And a time jump. 

I mean. 

All that growth of the previous episodes, all that slow burn, all that processing of Pat’s growth into a hopefully successful professional digital marketer. For what. No cohesive character development or a sharpening of any narrative lenses.

The last thing I’ll offer is that I understand that Tee Bundit added themes to this show that were not present in the original novel, such as the aforementioned macro commentary on the BL industry and other workplace storylines. And, starting with episode 10, he was on his complete own, outside of the novel’s romance arc (thank you to @lurkingshan for confirming this for me). I’ll theorize, therefore, that what we’ve been watching these past few weeks is a Frankenstein-ed approach to this story where the novel focused on the romance aspect of Pat and Jeng, and Tee’s been wanting to drive home themes of workplace success (I think); professional growth (I think?!); homophobia in the workplace and the harms of either being disapproved of and/or being closeted or closeted-ish in general (Jeng, Chot/Krit, Pat), plus that macro commentary on the BL industry that got edited out. 

But, and I emphasize here: not a SINGLE one of these threads has been illuminated to the point of clarity. I’ve wondered in the back of my mind if Tee maybe threw the baby out with the bathwater on this show AFTER the whole ZeeNew debacle, but -- whatever. The seams on this show were fraying weeks ago, and it shows.

Again -- I can’t think much longer on this show. It’s over next week. After a break-up and a time jump. We’re on the express train to a likely happy ending that I’m going to guess will be totally unearned. I had high hopes for each episode, only to be sorely disappointed since episode 8, when the drag got so unbalanced that I started to raise red flags. I want to see a surprise turn towards good storytelling for this finale next week. I want to be proven wrong about my instincts, but I ain’t putting any of my money on it.

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — KITA x FEM READER 

You’re doing a good job of convincing yourself you don’t miss your hometown until Kita drops back into your life. 

wc — 1k

tags — hometown blues, past Suna x reader (he’s a bit of a dick but he’ll grow out of it dw…just not with u), drinking, mildly angsty, title from my tears ricochet by taylor swift 

Running away from home can be more than packing a go bag and skulking off in the middle of the night. 

Sometimes it’s playing nice until graduation and then fading out of each other’s lives. If it’s your ex-boyfriend and he’s an asshole, it’s zero contact the day you walk across that stage with your diplomas. It’s getting blocked on all socials, even the public one you know his manager runs. It’s seeing his high school volleyball captain years later and resisting the urge to hide even though you were the one done dirty by his teammate. 

Sometimes it’s cutting out the pieces of you that belonged to your hometown. It’s leaving behind crowns of sweet wheat and picnics scrounged from convenience store snacks. It’s taking the promise ring he gave you with the coordinates of your high school engraved in it and flushing it down the toilet. 

Sometimes running away becomes running towards something else. You ditched Hyogo the second you realized Rintarou really wasn’t coming back, gave no one but your parents your new address, and went off to work in the big city where you would hopefully never see any one from your town again. 

It’s a reasonable assumption. After all, the people from your hometown were geniuses, but in very specific ways. So many members of the sports team went pro, but going corporate? They’d rather die. So you count yourself safe, letting your work act as a buffer between you and your former classmates. Each passing year, the distance between you grows wider and wider as you adjust to the different circuits you live in now. 

The appearance of Kita Shinsuke at your work party feels like a fever dream. 

“It’s been a while,” he smiles politely. 

He looks different and familiar all at once. You’ve never seen him in a suit before, so there’s that. All your past interactions with him have been relegated to brief courtside meetings when you came to support Suna at games. You barely recover in time to murmur a polite greeting back. It’s a battle to make idle conversation until you finally get to the burning question - what he’s doing here. 

“Are you a doctor?” Your company is doing a partnership with a hospital at the moment. It would make sense, and Kita is certainly smart enough to go through medical school. 

“Something like that,” he says. “I study social pain at the Tokyo Institute of Technology.” 

This is unexpected of him, who everyone had thought was going to take over his family farm. You remember jokingly writing ‘name a chicken after me!’ in his yearbook. 

Going by the look on his face, he seems to recall that memory too. A corner of his mouth lifts ever so slightly as he says, “I didn’t get to name a chicken after you after all, but we have a pet mouse in the lab. Kaoru rescued it from the animal testing lab.” 

You shouldn’t be as pleased as you are to have a man name a rodent after you. 

It’s easy to let down your defenses around him. He’s warm and comforting and somehow, he still feels like home, even though he tells you he’s been away for almost as long as you have. When you lean in too close, he smells like sun warmed grass. It’s tragic, the way you cling to him, to home. He’s just easy to talk to. You keep drinking as you unload all of your worries on him. 

“I know how you feel,” he says. His eyes are clear, even though he’s drunk as much as you have. It’s those farmer boy genes, you gripe. He absorbs liquor like a sponge. “Did I ever tell you how I ended up at the Institute?”

You shake your head, feeling your cheek catch against the sticky mess on the table. It makes you grimace, thinking of the way you’re going to break out in the morning, but you’re too dizzy to lift your head. At the moment, nothing feels better than the cool linoleum against your forehead. Kita pushes a bottle of water towards you. 

“I went to college late,” he said. “Everyone had graduated already. I was the only one my age in my core classes, but I couldn’t go back. Granny had died. There was nothing left for me on the farm. I could only move forward.” 

Even when you had been young and naive, you had thought Kita made a great orator. If he was the type to run, he would’ve won countless elections. It wasn’t what he said, but the way he said it. Like there was a core of solid oak at the center of his statements, solid and unshakable as his own character. As it was, everyone knew the only reason Kita wasn’t student council president was because he preferred volleyball. He’s only grown better with practice and age. You hang off his every word, feeling them strike you in your heart. 

It pains you, a little. 

Kita’s so straightforward. In some ways, he hasn’t changed at all from the boy you knew. He’s as steadfast and resilient as ever, chugging along the course he set out for himself with dogmatic patience. For someone so gentle, he gave off the impression that he could shoulder any burden and hold his hands out for more. 

If you were like that, your life would be so much easier. 

You tend to become overwhelmed by the little tasks. Every day, your job brings you to the brink of tears even though you begged and prayed for it. It makes you feel small and unworthy. You’re too old to not have your life figured out by now. 

Kita presses a hand to your forehead. “Are you alright?” 

With regret, you realize you’ve been too busy wallowing in self-pity to listen to the rest of his story. You’ve only caught flashes of it here and there, something about how it was actually Atsumu who encouraged him to come, telling him it’s never too late. 

“Maybe I should send you home,” he says, frowning. “You don’t seem well.” 

“No, please,” you say. You indulge yourself in letting him touch you for just a while longer before you push yourself upright with a great deal of effort. “It’s good to see someone from Hyogo.”

You hadn’t realized how much you missed it. 

“I think ya- Oh,” he says, covering his mouth. For the first time all night, he seems flustered. “Oops.” 

He’s been hiding his accent. You hadn’t even noticed, because you do the same thing. 

“It’s okay,” you squeeze his hand encouragingly. “Just between us.” 

Talking with a Kansai accent feels unnatural at first, like shrugging on an old coat that feels too small for you now. It takes a little bit before the consonants warm up beneath your tongue once more, begrudgingly taking you back. You still miss home, but there’s something comforting about your loss when you talk to Kita. He’s slipped into your life to shoulder the burden alongside you as he always does, without fanfare, as subtle as the way he drops the ends of his words.