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roanniom · 2 years

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The Shift

Steve Harrington x Reader

Word Count: 6.6k

Read Part 2 Here

Summary: On a sweltering shift at family video, Steve Harrington gets on your nerves.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, Smut, fingering, dirty talk, grinding, PIV sex, semi-public sex, light degradation, enemies to lovers, slight period-correct sexism and homophobia from a customer

It’s positively sweltering inside Family Video today. The box fan on the front counter does absolutely nothing to cool you down, especially as the tension within you runs hotter than the outside sun itself.

You shouldn’t be here. Today was your day off and you’d had plans with your friends for a pool day to beat the heat, knowing that today was forecasted to be the hottest of the year so far. Instead, you’ve been roped in to cover for Robin. And as much as you love her, part of you kinda secretly hopes she chokes on the milkshake she’s probably enjoying on her date right about now.

You don’t really want her to choke of course. You’ve been hyping her up for her eventual first date with Vicki for a long time now. It warms your cold, dead, perennially single heart to see your friend getting something she’s really wanted. Something she never thought would happen for her, especially not in Hawkins, Indiana.

But Hawkins, Indiana is exactly where you wish you weren’t right now. You’d rather be somewhere cool. Somewhere with ice and a breeze and fresh air.

Somewhere without Steve Harrington.

“You’ve been hogging the fan all day, trainee. Come on, give another sweaty bastard a turn.”

Speak of the devil.

You turn and glare directly into the face of your nemesis. Okay, nemesis is a little bit of an exaggeration. You aren’t mortal enemies, perhaps, but you would love to smack his smug face. Just once.

“For the last time. Stop calling me that. I have been working here almost as long as you,” you huff, not bothering to move an inch out of the radius of the fan.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I am the one who trained you. Making you - eternally - my trainee,” Steve responds, elbowing his way around you and into the line of semi-cool air.

“I was literally hired a month after you.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I showed you the ropes.”

“Only because the manager spent the night passed out in the ditch behind the liquor store.” You finish reboxing your last rewound tape, clicking it closed with a definitive snap.

“Hey. Jessie’s doing really well in rehab these days. Give him a break.” Steve pulls the stocking cart up and around to the counter and reaches for the tapes you’d just stacked. You yank them away from his grasp and haul them over to the cart yourself.

“And by ‘showed you the ropes’ are you referring to the fact that you broke the label maker in front of me and taught me how to get free snacks out of the break room vending machine?” You start pushing the cart towards the comedy section, not bothering to wait for Steve’s response.

“Hey! You should be thanking me for every bag of Reese’s Pieces I see you scarfing each day.” Steve comes up jogging behind you, grabbing the copy of Weird Science out of your hand before you can shelve it.

“Shut up, Harrington. As if you aren’t slamming M&M’s by the bushel.” You try to reach for the tape but he holds it up out of your reach. Damn his stupid height.

“Don’t you dare act like M&M’s aren’t the superior candy.”

“They melt in your hand - ,”

“So do Reese’s Pieces!” Steve cries out, interrupting you.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Steve. I forgot that a handful of goopy M&M’s are what helped E.T. assimilate to this planet,” you say, rolling your eyes and abandoning Weird Science to his grasp. Let him shelve the damn thing. You move on to the next aisle.

Steve, of course, follows behind.

“You and that stupid little alien.” Which of course makes you round on him, to which he throws Weird Science up in front of himself as a shield.

“E.T. is a seminal piece of filmmaking and Spielberg’s best work to date, so don’t you get started again -,”

“Oh bullshit. His best work?” Steve’s brow is furrowed darkly as if you’ve committed some irredeemable act instead of simply disagreeing with his film opinions.

“Um, excuse me? A little help here?” The voice of Ms. Jenkins, elderly and snippy, issues from the front counter where she stands with a handful of tapes. You give Steve a mean look and bound over to your solitary customer.

“Yes of course, let me ring you up, ma’am,” you say sweetly, making quick work of checking to make sure the tapes are rewound before scanning and reading off the total to her. You always have to double check that tapes are rewound because you sure as hell can’t be certain that Steve has done his job when that particular chore is on his list of responsibilities.

By the time Ms. Jenkins is out the door with her rentals, Steve’s pushed the cart to the shelves closest to the counter, lazily fingering the spines of the horror tapes in a bored pursuit of a particular alphabetic location.

“Jaws.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I said Jaws.”

“What about Jaws?” you ask with a sigh, leaning your hip against the counter and crossing your arms.

“Spielberg’s best movie.”

“Grow up, Harrington.”

“Excuse me?!” Steve drops the tape he’s holding and rushes over to you with fists raised. “Are you suggesting there’s something childish about enjoying Jaws?”

“Maybe,” you shrug, noncommittal. You don’t actually believe that, you just have found yourself in this rhetorical hole with Steve before and you don’t really want to get into an actual discussion. That and you love riling him up. It’s easier than committing to a movie to pop into the vcr above the counter and just as entertaining.

“You…I just…ughh.” Steve seems at a loss for words as he grapples with your vague criticism as if it isn’t the thousandth time you’ve had this argument. “That movie is a mature, grown up cinematic masterpiece and I can prove it. Number one,” he holds up one finger. “It is gory as hell. There’s a fuck ton of blood.”

“Violence is your evidence of maturity, Harrington?”

Steve scoffs at you and lifts up a second finger.

“Number two, the score is iconic.” He hunches a little and starts stalking towards you slowly, predatorily. “Duuun uh, duuun uh, dun uh dun uh dun uh - ,”

“I know the score, Steve!” you speak over his crescendoing vocalization.

“Come on! That’s iconic!” You roll your eyes but nod.

“I mean yeah. You got me there.”

“Ahah!” Steve punches the air as if he’s one some massive victory rather than simply receiving your noncommittal agreement on one part of a larger argument. He holds up a third finger. “And to round us out with number three - tits.”

Exactly as he says ‘tits’ - proudly and loudly, you notice - an elderly gentleman walks into the store. He freezes in the doorway looking at the two of you, clearly affronted.

“Good afternoon, sir! Let us know if you need any help!” you hastily speak up, distancing yourself from Steve and plastering on a huge smile. The man harumphs and walks into the store, grumbling something about ‘kids these days.’ You turn and shoot daggers at a sheepish looking Steve.

“Tits? Really?” Your whisper comes out poisonous.

“What’s more mature than tits?” he asks, equally hushed.

“Obviously not you, moron.” You start making your way back to the cart but stop in your tracks, thinking. Instead, you turn back and whisper to him. “Wait…when are there tits in Jaws?”

~*~

Ten minutes later, after the disapproving customer had checked out, copy of Cocoon in hand (a little on the nose, something you tried not to laugh about as you rang him up), you and Steve both stand huddled near the tv hooked up to the VCR.

You’re watching the opening sequence, where two teens are giving each other eyes across the way at a bonfire party. It’s charged. It’s flirtatious. The girl gets up and heads towards the beach, the guy following in hot, drunken pursuit.

It’s a cute moment. A calm before the storm, you think, because of course you know better. You know what’s going to happen in just a few moments. But suspended in time, this couple’s cat and mouse game is sexy. It’s playful.

It’s not the point of the scene, but you feel yourself getting riled up. Not exactly turned on but…what’s the word? Yearning? Pathetic. It’s been a little too long since you’ve gotten any and the heat is getting you your head, you reason with yourself internally.

As the girl gets closer to the water she begins discarding her clothes in preparation for what everyone knows will be her final skinny dip. As she does so, Steve hurtles forward and hits the pause button, freezing her perfectly in time as her shirt comes over her head revealing the silhouette of heavy breasts, mid swing.

“Tits!” Steve cries out, pointing directly at the revealed breasts on screen. “I fucking told you.”

“What do you want, Steve? A cookie?” You make sure your face stays neutral. You don’t want to give away the fact that the sexual implications of the scene have you all hot and bothered. Harrington doesn’t deserve that information.

“You said there weren’t any tits in Jaws.”

“I asked when were there tits in Jaws. I apologize that a pair of movie breasts didn’t imprint chemically in my brain the way they did for you.”

“I’m sorry. When did the prude switch shifts with the trainee? I didn’t get the memo.” Steve says haughtily, ejecting the tape from the VCR and putting it back in its case. Your jaw drops at his words but he pays you no mind, walking back to reshelf the movie. You run after him.

“I’m not a fucking prude, Harrington.”

“Oh I know you’re not. That’s what I’m getting at.” Steve slots Jaws back in its place and heads back towards the break room.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” you demand, hot on his trail.

“I’m at the same parties you go to, trainee. I’m not blind. You like to have a good time.” He shrugs, walking up to the beaten old vending machine. It’s much hotter here in the back room than it was out on the main floor, probably due to the lack of windows and fans. Steve kicks the corner of the vending machine and raps his knuckles against the side panel before reaching to type the code for the M&M’s. You lunge forward and beat him to it, slamming your finger down on a different button. “Fuck! Seriously?!”

“You’re really going to slut shame me? Here at work?” You ask, snatching the packet of Reese’s Pieces as it falls into the dispenser tray.

“The pot is very much calling the kettle black here, don’t you think?” Steve kicks the corner of the machine and taps the side again, but instead of beeping in recognition, the machine stays dormant. You pop a candy in your mouth smugly as Steve grunts in frustration.

“I’m not the whore of Hawkins, Harrington. But that might be a title with which you can identify.”

“Nice alliteration, brainiac.” Steve kicks the machine harder this time. Clearly with more malicious intent towards the hulking appliance rather than with the strategy of overriding the payment mechanism.

“You know about alliteration? You didn’t skip that lesson in English class to fondle a bimbo under the bleachers?” You pop another candy in your mouth and fan yourself. The heat is starting to get to you. It is suffocating in this room. Your collar is stuck to your neck and you grab at the front of your shirt, billowing it out to try and stimulate an internal breeze. You look up and find Steve staring at the place where your hand pulls at your clothes, but he’s quick to look away, shoving a hand through his messy hair.

“Oh yeah? I’m not the one pushing my tits together whenever a slightly attractive guy comes in. I swear I saw you almost put your hand down the pants of that ex-football loser who came in here looking for fucking Flash Gordon for the tenth time.”

You gasp at his audacity. Because how dare he say that to you but also because it is objectively untrue. You had lightly flirted with the man, sure. You were bored and he had broad shoulders. Sue you. But Steve has no right to any sort of commentary.

“I’m sorry Mr. This-way-to-the-romance-section-and-while-we’re-at-it-why-don’t-you-come-watch-it-at-my-place Harrington. A blonde with big boobs so much as thinks about walking in here and your eyes are popping out of your head and your tongue is trailing on the floor.”

“You’re using the description of a horny cartoon character to describe me? Nice. Real nice.” Steve bangs on the side of the machine with his fist one more time and you let out a groan.

“Stop beating up the vending machine, for fuck’s sake. Here!” You reach into your pocket and grab a dollar, thrusting it into his face. Steve swats your hand away.

“I have money, trainee.” He reaches into his own pocket and fishes out a dollar which he proceeds to jam unceremoniously into the slot.

You drop yourself into one of the seats at the lunch table and grab for a magazine to fan yourself with.

“Well if you’re so loaded, why are you always stealing snacks?”

Steve ignores you, punching in the correct code this time. When another packet of Reese’s Pieces drops instead of the M&Ms he’d asked for, he lets out massive cry of frustration.

“What the fuck?”

“Well that’s the funniest thing I’ve seen all day,” you say, crossing your arms in your seat and biting your lip to keep from smiling widely.

“What the FUCK!”

“Maybe it’s karma, for being such an asshole to me,” you shrug. Steve whips around, shooting you daggers.

“I’ve had it about up to here with you today, trainee.” He stalks over to the water cooler and rips out a little cone paper cup, accidentally pulling out three too many in the process. You continue fanning yourself with the magazine languidly.

“Oh wow, I’m so sorry dad.”

Steve actually barks a laugh at that and looks at you over his shoulder, filling the paper cup with room temp water.

“You’re not the first to make that association.”

“Oh gross, Harrington. I didn’t ask for insight into your sex life,” you pretend to gag.

Steve knocks back the water and crushes the paper cone in his fist, tossing it over his shoulder as he goes to join you at the table. You are positively irked to notice that he makes it perfectly into the trash without even looking.

“That’s not what I meant but I’m not opposed to being called daddy, fyi,” he says, winking at you.

“I’m sure you’re not. Seems right up your alley.” Your words are derisive but you can’t help the breathless quality they take on. It must be a side effect of this fucking heat. You’re not taking in air properly.

“Yeah? Well I’ll bet you’re really mean between the sheets.”

“Oh you’ll bet that?” you ask with a snort, trying to ignore the paradoxical shiver that runs through your body at the implication.

“Yeah. You seem to derive a sick pleasure from giving me a hard time. Wouldn’t be shocked if insults turn you on.”

“Not a super fan of being degraded, Steve. Sorry to burst your bubble,” you reply lightly. Like his suggestion didn’t just add a palpitation to your heart beat. Steve bites his lip contemplatively.

“Well I really meant that I think you like being the one to dish out the insults,” he clarifies. But then he’s leaning closer to you across the table, a smirk spreading across his face as he takes in the way your posture is scrunching defensively. “But actually now that I think of it…I feel like you probably would like being degraded.”

“Excuse me?” you exhale sharply, realizing you’d been holding your breath as his proximity increased.

“You’re a perfectionist. A good girl, or you are most of the time, as we’ve established.” Steve’s finger slides across the table towards you and your gaze locks on its approaching motion. “I could see you looking for an excuse to let go of all that pressure. To be bad.”

You’ve stopped breathing again, mesmerized by his slow words and the trajectory of his sliding finger. Then suddenly he’s reaching out and snatching the half empty bag of Reese’s Pieces from your grasp, upending it in the air above his face and crunching down on the remaining candy.

“Hey!” you cry out, lunging for him only to be stopped by his defensive hand outstretching and catching you, holding you an arm length away. Steve makes a face.

“It’s a crime that this is peanut butter instead of chocolate.”

You grab him by the front of the shirt and get very close to him, glaring up into his stupid, pretty face.

“You’ll pay for that, Steve Harrington.”

“Yeah? How?” he asks. His eyes are looking down into yours, the remnants of his smirk slowly fading from his face. The heat is sweltering. Hotter than it’s been during your entire shift and you really should run out the front door for some air before you pass out but…you’re rooted to the spot.

You inhale in order to respond - not even sure of what you’ll say once the words start flowing - but you’re immediately interrupted by the ding of the bell on the front door.

“Hello? Anybody here?”

The customer’s voice cuts through the tension between you and you let go of Steve’s shirt like it’s on fire.

“Just a minute!” you call out in your sing-song-y customer service voice. You hear Steve groan behind you but you don’t give him a second thought as you dash out onto the floor of the store.

The same grumpy man from earlier stands at the counter, grumpier than ever and brandishing his tape towards you.

“I got all the way home just to realize that the wrong tape is in this blasted box.” He wrenches open the case for Cocoon to reveal a copy of Tootsie. You try not to laugh at his absurdly wounded expression and grab the tape from him.

“I am so sorry, sir, we’ll get this sorted for you,” you assure, turning around to let out a silent chuckle. You shuffle through the bare tapes on the counter and find the correct one, silently cursing Steve for his disorganization.

“This is unacceptable, young lady,” the old man grumbles as you put the Cocoon tape in its box.

“Everyone makes mistakes, unfortunately.”

“I expect a higher quality of service. I fought on D Day, you know.”

“We did not know that, thank you for your service,” Steve mumbles sarcastically coming up beside you behind the counter. The man doesn’t catch his facetiousness and wags a fervent finger.

“That’s right. I should be treated with some respect.”

“Without a doubt,” Steve replies. You silently snap the tape box closed and hand it over, trying not to look annoyed.But the man doesn’t take it from you. Instead he points over at the stack of tapes where you had placed the copy of Tootsie.

“She tried to give me a movie with a man in a dress,” he accuses and you scoff. Steve glances over, clocking which movie it is and no doubt realizing that the mistake was his own.

“Well, I’ll be honest with you, she was doing you a favor, because Dustin Hoffman is just a delight - ,”

“As her manager, I think you should fire her,” the man interrupts Steve.

“Excuse me?” you ask, shocked at his audacity. Steve holds his hands up in a time out symbol.

“First of all, I’m not her manager, and second of all. She’s done nothing wrong.”

“She gave me a fruity movie!” the man cries out.

“Ok then,” you push away from the counter and head towards the back room, completely done with this interaction.

“Sir, fruit is delicious,” Steve argues, distracted as he watches you stalk off to the back, anxious to follow. The old man wags his finger even more violently.

“I’ll be telling the owner, just you wait. Do you take me for a fruit, young man?” he raises his voice.

“Yeah a raisin, sir. Please get out of my store.” Steve’s voice lowers in tone, but the authority in it increases tenfold. “Now.”

~*~

Steve finds you pacing around the break room, a paper water cone crushed in your hand. He approaches to comfort you, but the second he enters, you round on him.

“How could you do that to me?”

“Do what? Defend you?” Steve’s bewildered by your reaction, hands up in the air in front of himself defensively.

“I wouldn’t need defending if you weren’t such a fuck up at your job, Steve.” You flail a hand in the direction of the front counter.

“You said it yourself that everyone makes mistakes.”

“I was lying, Harrington. I don’t make mistakes. You make enough for the both of us.” You go to turn away from him but he grabs your elbow.

“Oh what, and you’re Ms. Fucking Perfect? Huh?” You wrench your elbow out his grasp.

“In comparison to you? Hell yeah.”

“That’s rich,” Steve barks out a laugh, running a hand through the hair at the back of his head. His stance squares off with you and he too points out toward the front counter. “How many times have I had to save you from customers who are asking for films you’ve never fucking heard about?”

“Shut up, Steve,” you roll your eyes and Steve gets more emphatic.

“How many times have I had to come stop some creep who’s being weird to you?”

“Oh fuck you. My hero. My white knight, scaring away the big bad men,” you say in a mocking tone. You cross your arms over your chest and for the first time since walking into the back room Steve notices that you have unbuttoned a large portion of the top buttons on your shirt, probably due to the heat. With your arms folded over your chest, he can see your cleavage and he swallows. You notice and drop your arms with a scoff. “You fucking pervert. You’re no better than the rest of them!”

“What? What?!” Steve blusters, trying to play off the fact that you caught him staring.

“You’re a fucking horn dog, that’s what.”

“Oh please.” He turns around with a dismissive laugh and you step forward to follow him, staying in his space.

“You know what I think? I think the reason you give me a hard time is because I never gave you the time of day,” you declare, putting your hands on your hips. The heat is rising within you now. The air is stifling and electric around you as Steve takes an angry step closer to you and you feel crackling as if you’re in the middle of a heat lightning storm.

“Well you’re way off base with that theory, trainee,” Steve bites out. He’s smirking at you. Goddamn smirking at you as if he’s got the upperhand in spite of what you’ve just accused him of.

“And what makes you say that?”

“Because I know you asked Robin if I was single when you first started working here,” he says smugly. He folds his arms across his own chest now and you curse your fucking eyes because they widen while taking in the way his biceps now look. Large and defined as his sleeves shift up.

“So? That doesn’t prove anything. Maybe I just wanted to know if you were cheating on a girlfriend with all the flirting you insist on doing,” you manage to reply coolly. But Steve’s shaking his head before you even finish your statement.

“I believe your words were - and I quote - ‘Is Steve single? Because he’s hot as fuck. I’d let that boy bend me over the break room table’.” His voice takes on a high pitched mocking quality as he approximates your tone.

Your eyes blow wide and your jaw drops to the floor.

“Robin, that bitch.”

“Don’t blame Robin for your horny fantasies, trainee.” He’s got a smile on his face that you just want to slap off. Your fingers flex at your sides but you hold yourself back, taking a deep breath.

“Then you don’t blame her for the fact that she told me you get a semi every time I wear these jeans?”

Steve’s eyes practically bug out of his head and dart down to look at the jeans in question. You quirk an eye up, your turn to smile.

“I - what? No!”

“So she lied? This doesn’t do it for you?” you ask, turning slightly and leaning on the back of a chair so that your ass stuck out a little, accentuating your curves. Steve’s gaze drops to your ass before pinballing all the way around the room, desperately looking at anything and everything other than you.

“That’s not…you’re full of…”

“No, you’re full of it, Harrington. Admit it,” you say, straightening up and pointing at him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve says, standing a little straighter and looking at you now that you’re no longer presenting your ass to him.

“You find me irresistable,” you accuse. Steve laughs loudly and without humor.

“And yet here I am. Perfectly capable of resisting,” he says, standing his ground. “Meanwhile you’re practically throwing yourself at me.”

“You fucking wish!”

“In your dreams.”

“In my nightmares.”

The next few seconds seem to play out, paradoxically, both sped up and in slow motion. The heat fills the space around you, almost thick enough to cushion the air. And then Steve’s body is hurtling towards yours. Or yours towards his - you can’t be sure. All you are aware of is movement and then contact. The woosh of air and then the solidness of impact.

Steve’s hands are on your waist, pulling your body against his as his lips crash against yours. Your hands are in his hair before you can even think about it, your movements automatic and entirely involuntary as far as you’re concerned. Fingers fisting in his locks you kick yourself internally because they feel exactly like you thought they would. Fucking pretty haired pretty boy.

His tongue is at the seam of your lips, forcing your mouth open ruthlessly and you comply, allowing him to sweep inside. Steve turns his head to the side, deepening the kiss and pushing down into you until you feel yourself being folded back, his hand sliding to your tailbone to support you through the dip.

When he pulls away, both of you gasping for air, he doesn’t move far, instead dipping to suck biting kisses against your throat.

“You gonna tell me to stop?”

His words don’t make any sense as they enter your hazy brain. One of your hands drops to his shoulder, grasping. Clinging really as he delivers a particularly rough suck to the place beneath your ear.

“W-what?”

“If you hate me so much this must be torture for you,” he breathes into your skin. The smugness has returned to his voice, muted though it is against your throat.

“I fucking hate you, Harrington,” you seethe. He’s laughing now against your throat.

“I know, that’s what I just said - ,”

You cut him off by roughly grabbing him by the hair and bringing him back to your lips. The moan he looses into your mouth has you humming with a satisfaction that seeps deep down into your core. He’s not getting the upper hand so easily. Not if you have anything to say about it.

Now on a single-minded mission to ruin him, you reach down and splay your hand out against his lower back, rolling your hips forward in tandem with the motion in order to grind your pelvis against his. He lets out a groan that you feel in your extremities, so you repeat the move.

Suddenly the hands that are on your waist drop to your hips and wrench you around so your back is to him. The twirl disorients you and you gasp, blinking at the back of the break room and panting as Steve’s hands pull you back - ass against his pelvis.

He slaps a hand on the back of your thigh - making you whine - and slides up your curve to grip a handful of your ass.

“I’ll be the bigger person,” he says with a heavy chuckle into your ear. “I can admit these jeans do it for me.”

A laugh rocks through your body in spite of yourself.

“Oh yeah? They giving you a semi?” you ask jokingly. Steve pulls you back against him, hips bracketing your ass, and you feel him pressing into you. Hard. Nothing semi about it.

“What do you think?” His voice is gruff now, his lower half grinding slowly, deliberately into yours.

“I think you’re hard,” you say on an exhale. His laugh is full throated and his grip on your hips tighten.

“Very observant, trainee. A+ work.” His face buries itself into the crook between your neck and shoulder, lips toying with the skin there.

“Don’t call me trainee.” Your voice is breathless but for once there is no menace in it when you say the sentence you’ve yelled at him a million times.

“No? What should I call you then?” His lips are at your ear. His fingertips dig into your hips and push you back into him. Making you feel him. “Baby? Darling?”

You let out a gasping laugh when he bucks into you from behind, knocking you off balance a bit so you have to lean forward and grasp the edge of the table. He follows you down, chest still against your back.

“...slut?”

You’d love it if your response was to laugh in his face. To pry his hands off of you, straighten up your clothes, and walk out the door. But that’s not what happens.

You moan.

He says the word and you moan.

It’s dark and filthy and you feel hot shame the minute it issues from your mouth, but the way his fingers tense immediately has got heat pooling directly between your thighs.

“Holy shit.”

“I…that doesn’t…”

“Holy shit!” His words are laughing and victorious and he’s nuzzling his face over your shoulder even as you try to crouch away. “I fucking called it.”

“That doesn’t prove anything,” you argue, even as your back arches slightly and find yourself rocking back into him. His hand slides over the slope of your hip to the front of your jeans.

“You moaned, trainee. I called you a slut and you moaned.” Steve’s hand cups your mound then, middle finger pressing up into the center seam of your jeans.

“F-fuck…” You swivel your hips to grind down into his hand, suddenly getting a taste of the friction you’d begun to crave.

Steve uses his hand between your legs to ground you against him, giving him leverage with which to rub his hard-on directly into your ass.

“You can lie all you want. Calling you a slut is making you writhe for me…like a cute little slut.”

You huff out an exhale and look over your shoulder at him.

“Is it the word or the fact that you’re practically fingering me through my jeans and humping me? Which is it, Steve?”

His cocky smile only widens and he shoots forward to steal a kiss over your shoulder since you’re looking at him.

“Both?”

“Oh christ, Harrington…” you trail off as his hand slides up and starts opening your jeans.

“You do have a point though…” he says, biting his lip in concentration. He yanks your jeans down over your ass, leaving them bunched around your knees. His hand cups you through your underwear before yanking them to the side, fingers sweeping directly over your wet slit as you shiver. “Through the jeans wasn’t that efficient.”

“Pretty boy worries about efficiency?” you ask derisively. His finger has found your clit with no problem and your knees are feeling weaker by the second, but you definitely aren’t going to go easy on him.

“Being pretty isn’t the only thing I’m good at, you know,” he says with humor. You find the wherewithal to reach back and peel his other hand off your hip, bringing it to close around your breast. Steve intakes breath sharply.

“Same,” you reply with a smirk. He gropes you experimentally through your shirt before rooting underneath the hem to find your bra-clad breast.

“So you think you’re pretty?” he taunts.

“You do.”

“I think you’re pretty or I think I’m pretty?” Steve asks, pulling your breast out of the cup and pinching your nipple just as he sinks a finger into your pussy.

“Fuck…the first one…both…just shut up,” you grit out and arch your back.

“I knew you’d been mean to me,” Steve quips before sinking his teeth lightly into your shoulder.

“Steve, do you want to fuck me?” you ask, voice tinged with annoyance. His head shoots over your shoulder to try and get a look at your face.

“I can fuck you?” He sounds like an enthusiastic puppy dog and your heart lurches in spite of itself.

“Not if you keep making fun of me, you can’t,” you say, though there’s humor in the words.

“Ahh, you can dish it but you can’t take it. I get it. That’s cool.” Steve’s tone is casual. The exact opposite of his actions as he slowly adds another finger into your dripping channel. You keen forward, both from the force of the pleasure and from the way your reaction makes him grind his dick even harder against your ass.

“Um…Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“So…are you going to fuck me?”

Your question makes him laugh and has his hips stuttering against you.

“Eager to make the fantasy of me bending you over this table a reality?”

“No. Eager to fast forward to the part where you wake up having creamed your pj’s thinking of me,” you retort, this time with a massive smile on your face as you recall the story you’d been told about Steve’s wet dreams. Steve groans.

“Fucking Robin,” he says, letting go of your breast to reach down and open his own pants.

“She’s the worst,” you agree. The anticipation is mounting and sweat drips off your brow. You’d down on your elbows now, bent over the table, and you can’t see Steve behind you, but you can hear the rustle of clothing. He yanks your jeans and underwear down to your ankles suddenly and you yelp and he nudges your thighs open so your legs are spread hip-width apart.

You wait a few breathless heart beats until the sound of skin on skin - which does not include your own - has you looking over your shoulder.

Steve is standing behind you, his own pants pooled at his feet, with his cock in his hand. He’s gripping it, giving it long, slow strokes as his eyes hungrily consume your half-bare body.

“I…think you might kill me,” he says seriously, dragging his eyes up from your pussy to your face. You gesture down to the cock he is fisting, eyeing the size.

“Back at you.”

He laughs at your response and heat rushes through you at how beautiful he looks with the smile cracking his face wide. You want him. Now.

So you turn back around and bend yourself over the table again, shifting side to side to sway your ass at him enticingly.

Steve’s on you not even a second later. His hands smooth over your hips and waist and his cock slides between your legs, between your folds.

“Holy shit. Holy shit.” He’s repeating the phrase over and over under his breath and you’d laugh but you’re feeling similarly speechless. Impatient now, you reach back and take his cock in your hand, making him hiss. You arch and lean forward, guiding his tip into you until his hands grip your hips and he steps forward, slipping in inch by inch.

“Oh fuck,” you both swear, practically in unison. Steve remains still for a second to let you adjust, and also to ground himself as he takes in all of what is happening in this moment.

You find yourself nearly shaking from the feel of him inside you. He feels so good and it’s been a long, empty summer so far. Of course you’re horny, you reason with yourself in your head as you shift forward, trying to entice him to move, which he does. He’s hot and you’re horny and and it feels good. It feeels good.

“Yeah? Feels good?”

Shit. You’ve been speaking your thoughts out loud. You go to contradict him - to take it back - but then he’s kissing your neck and you can’t help but hum.

“Yeah. It’s good.”

He finds a steady pace before the his words return again, this time more hoarse than before.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he groans out, thrusting into you particularly hard. Feeling sweat slick your skin you laugh.

“It’s because there’s no fan in here.”

“Oh, she’s shy about compliments suddenly,” Steve intuits and you roll your eyes, though he can’t see it. “She knows she’s hot but doesn’t want me to point it out?”

“Steve…” you warn, but there’s little else you can do as he reaches a hand down to the apex of your thighs and starts fingering your clit. You grip numbly at the table.

“Yeah, baby? You want me to stop talking about your incredible body?” he teases, his other hand coming down flat over your back to push you further down into the table before reclaiming your hip. “How good it feels to be inside you?”

“You’re a cocky bastard,” you say, but it comes out in a whine. You’re record-breakingly close to cumming and your brain and body seem disconnected. Unsure of what to do about the short circuiting feeling of shame and pleasure and annoyance and fondness, all of which are completely Steve’s fault.

“You’ve got that right, sweetheart,” he responds, inhaling sharply when you clench around him in response. “What’s that? So you like being called sweetheart?”

“Mmmm,” is all you manage to moan out, though he takes it correctly as an affirmation. He has both hands gripping your waist now, allowing nothing to distract him from pounding into you, chasing his own release now while also rocketing you towards your own.

“So you do like a little sweetness after all.” It’s teasing but you’re too fucked out to care at this point. So close. So close. Steve’s kissing the spot under your ear as he slows down to fuck you harder. Deeper. “Good thing I like it sweet. That’s how I’ve always wanted to be with you, sweetheart.”

Is it cheesy? Yes. Is it something that usually would have you slapping him and walking away? Yes.

But now you’re cumming. Crying out his name as his cock slides into you, your walls bearing down and spasming around him.

You don’t even know where your orgasm ends and his begins, you’re so blinded by pleasure. But he’s shaking around you and his hips are stuttering and then his weight is pressing you into the table as he pants.

There’s a split second where your shared breathe is all you can sense. His skin on yours has you buzzing and your muscles are jelly. You don’t even have a moment to think about repercussions or right or wrong. There’s just…Steve.

And then the bell rings in the distance indicating someone has entered the front door.

“Hellooo!” Comes Robin’s sing song voice. “Do my sad single friends want to hear how my date went?”

~*~

Read Part 2 Here

Steve / Stranger Things tag list (some of these are assumptions based on your interactions with my posts about my steve fic, so sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged!): @boomhauer @asbisexualasitgets @bluetreecloud20 @flightless-b1rds let-my-ship-sail @fandomsimper @livlovelaughh @maggiemaes-stuff @adultnitemares @wonderfulw0rldx @bellaiscool @halolani supe-r-nova r4nd0mf4nd0mz25 spookyreidd cmlover101 coolestgirlhere jadenswifey22 ashleighjadecharlton everybodywantstobetouched uhcastiels monsterhighprincess99 misaamaneswifey steveharringtonsdaddy getoutandtouchtherain alexxavicry craze4bau sabrinablack194 iseultult devonisntreal navybluebitch macey730 izbot6 sweetkyotto @millenialcatlady creme-delacreme s-trawberryv-eins amatchinwater vamdevil xoxchanxl mrssharrington edwardmunsn moonyscardigans wayward-rose

#steve Harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #Steve Harrington fanfic #stranger things smut #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington/reader #steve harrington/you #steve harrington x fem!reader #fem!reader

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phantom-of-the-501st · 14 days

Text

Thoughts on TBB 3x13: Into the Breach

SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT

Oh you know how excited I got during this one

Tantiss in the sun??? That's unusual

MOUSE DROID!

The kids are all so sad. This is heartbreaking 😭

This moment seems like a prime time to contact Echo just saying

*gasp* SHIP! PLEASE TELL ME THAT'S WHO I THINK IT IS

AAAAAAAAAHHHHH HE'S BACK!!!

Hunter and Echo's little handshake always makes me soft 🥰

"That hydro snake" glad to have you and your snark back, Echo

THE QUIRKED EYEBROW 😭 I missed him so much 🫶

Hahahahahaha Wrecker and Crosshair's joint "YES"

"Well you've been demoted" Echo is not putting up with Rampart's bs and I love him for that

I really miss Hunter's scarf this season. I wish he kept it 🥲

Also petition for Echo to get a Kama again!

Oooooh she sneaky

Not sure what she's going to do with one small stick but I trust her

THEY STRIPPED THE ARMOUR WTF

I mean it kinda looks like how it used to tbf but I got used to the paint 🥺

Hahahahaha I love that they didn't change the clothing underneath. They stripped the colour off their armour to be stealthy and yet are still walking around with brightly-coloured underclothing

Ugh the fact that Crosshair looks the closest to an Imperial like this makes me upset 😭

"I've missed this" Of course you have you smug bastard

"I don't think so" Echo really does not give a shit about Rampart and I don't blame him

Real subtle Hunter

"Err Captaining" WRECKER I FUCKING LOVE YOU

Thinking back to how Echo used to be the rule follower and would try and stop his batchmates from stepping out of line and now he's pushing around an ex-Vice Admiral while breaking into an imperial base to go and break Omega out of a highly-secure imperial lab. He's grown so much 🥺🫶

Noooooo I don't like that. Echo having to sneak onto a heavily guarded ship by himself stresses me out

"Wonderful. We're all going to die" Look, I may hate this man, but some of his line deliveries crack me up

You'd think the wall tiles in a top secret imperial lab would be more secure than that but okay

I'm not sure how Echo managed that slide roll thing off the top of the container but damn it was smooth af 🤩

HE WENT UP THE FUCKING DROID CHUTE 😭 THIS MAN I SWEAR TO GOD

Like that would be such a Fives plan and Echo has just embraced that chaos

Wrecker casually strolling off the ship with an imperial slung over his shoulder (while wearing his hat) 🤣

THIS EPISODE IS NOT GOOD FOR MY HEART RATE

THAT LANDING WAS TOO CLOSE FOR MY LIKING

New episode and I fucking loved this one! Still feel like we have a lot to wrap up in the last two episodes but there was a good balance of humour, action and tension

ALSO ECHO FINALLY CAME BACK!!! I missed him so much 🥺

#little bit of a late post #slept later than I thought I was going to #AND OF COURSE THE ONE I WAS LATE TO WAS THE RETURN OF ECHO #this episode was great #and I was very happy to see our boy back #curious to see how the last two episodes go #the bad batch #star wars #the bad batch spoilers #tbb spoilers #tbb echo #tbb wrecker #tbb hunter #tbb crosshair #tbb omega

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hauntedbubbles · 1 month

Text

They're so sassy with it 🤣🤣🤣

Graves: Watch your ass down there Soap: Aye...I'll be watchin' somebody's arse doon ther'👀 Ghost: Fuckin' 'ell

@atombonniebaby here with my secondary blog...wanted to give my cod content it's own home... HantedBubbles = SoapGhost 🧼💀

I'm also doing a one shot, where Soap didn't get the birthday he had planned, and the boys decide to drop in, unannounced to cheer him up. (or Price has the kids for the weekend)

So...I wrote a bit where Ghost is bribed into getting the above outfit when they're out getting supplies 🤣

Have a read 👇🏼 encourage me to finish it 🙌🏼

"You seen this?" Gaz holds up a t-shirt, a mix of black and neon pinks. "It's got a skull."

He should hate it. He knows he should. It's garish and loud and everything he'd usually scoff at. But fuck it all, he sorta loves it? "It's not the worst thing you Muppets have shown me..."

"With them grey jeans and this..." Gaz hands him a light grey garment, a jacket by the looks of it, trendier than he'd ever have chosen for himself. The arms look like they'd cut off circulation to his hands if he flexed too hard. "I think it could work."

"Go on, son, no point speculating, go try ‘em on." Price shoos him in the direction of the changing rooms.

He could complain or try to argue his case, but he knows this is one of those battles he won't win. With a heady sigh he makes his way to an empty cubicle, which is hardly big enough to house a fucking toddler... never mind his 6”3’ arse.

After what felt like the warm-up session from his workouts (and an hour of swearing at buttons), Ghost managed to wrestle himself into a pair of jeans that actually fit him (if you don't look down past his shins) They were just long enough that his boots might reach ‘em. (And spare him the trouble of looking a right tosser.)

They was...a little hugging. The soft, light grey denim, a far cry from his usual heavy blue work jeans and cargos... He almost hates them too, wants to, but even he can admit, his legs looked mint in ‘em, he turned then, to see how they look in the back and— yeah...not on their life... this ain’t ‘appenin’—

"You alive in there?” Price, king-of-choosing-his-moments, knocked on the door.

Fuck! The button's stuck!..."Ye...yeah..." He struggled to breathe out, trying to keep quiet while fat fingers fumbled with the bastard button. "Tha’s it! I-I ain't buyin' 'nout from 'ere— fuckin' ’ell!”

"Simon, unlock it, yeah?”

If that fucker laughed he'd kill him. With a defeated sigh, Ghost opened the door just enough for Price to slide inside the tiny space... He looks down at the captain and debates if he has enough room to hide the body.

“Just help us get these off, yeah? Fuckin' things are stuck!”

"Reign it in...take a breath." He had to give it to the Captain, that smile that nearly broke, stayed away. "They ain't bad on ya, what's the matter?”

He's more caked up than the fucking bakery isle in this here Big Tesco is what's the fucking matter. "They ain't practical, Captain. Soft as shit fabric'll fall apart after a few washes."

"Fifty quid..." Price smiled, arms crossed and smug as he opened the door. "And I'll buy 'em for ya?”

"Why?” Ghost blurted out. "I ain't got anywhere to wear 'em!"

"Because I remember the crazy shit you used to wear back in the day, and this is bloody tame... Why not let Simon have this one, eh?”

He hated the way his cheeks burned hotter... but fifty quid? Outta the Captains pocket? Fuckin' hell. "A'right, fine! But on the small chance I croak it t’night and end up a real fuckin' ghost lookin' like a knob...I'm haunting ya!”

Price laughed at that, clapping him on the shoulder. "That sounds like a yes?"

"A begrudging one."

"Then get to it. We 'aven't got all day."

Bastard.

Ghost double knotted his laces. Nothing pinched, everything fitted, felt comfortable. Fuck. He stood on a deep breath and turned to the ridiculously big mirror and tugged the scarf back down around his neck, running a hand through his hair. "Fuck's sake..."

The skull T-shirt clung a little tighter than he expected. Not quite a second skin, but enough to be noticeable. These clothes were... new and different, and he doesn't know how to process how that made him feel.

He was the kind of guy that could blend into any crowd, could fade into the background and be unnoticed. He liked being invisible. Hated being in the spotlight.

The jeans made him feel like an asshole.

The shirt made him look like a twat.

And yet, who he found staring back in the mirror was a man that could pass for an everyday bloke. One who didn't live on the fringes of society, one who hadn't done the things he had. This was a guy who could be content curled up on the sofa with a book and a cup of tea. The kind of man that had roots, who had friends and family that stood by him...had his back.

Simon stepped out of that cubicle, feeling more naked than he had when he'd stripped down. Yet, a strange sense of security washed over him as he faced his commanding officer with an apprehensive stare.

Price had that stupid, dopey grin plastered on his face, just like when he was congratulating his troops on a job well done.

"There he is," Price whispered as he reached up to ruffle his hair, and he batted the hand away, scowling as he ducked out of the changing room.

"Fuckin' hell, sir..."

"Garrick...I'm warnin' ya..." he growled, shoving the smaller man towards the exit of the store. "Not another fuckin' word."

#If you guys have seen Barry and Sam's banter on lives...I just imagine that's how the whole team are!#john soap mactavish #ghostsoap #ghost mw2 #modern warfare #cod ghost #call of duty mwii #kyle gaz garrick #ghost riley #cod modern warfare #mw2 #captain price #john price #mw3 #mw2 fanfic #mw3 fanfic #warzone screens

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cloudninetonine · 9 months

Note

What would the chain do if the player fell asleep on them.

Time - Stays still, especially if he can tell Player needs it, asks one of the boys to get a blanket for them

Twilight - Picks them up and lays them in their bedroll so they're more comfortable, extremely careful the entire time

Warriors - Wraps his scarf around their neck and his arm around their waist, making sure their comfortable while continuing with his current task

Sky - Puts his sailcloth over them and coos, cuddles back into them and probably falls asleep too- the both end up falling on their

Legend - Pushes them off /j crosses his arm and acts annoyed, but if no one's around he makes sure they're comfortable

Hyrule - Stone still, will not move if it means they wake up- someone's gotta help him because he would need to sneeze and his whole face would be convulsing trying not to. Eventually takes them to bed and just cuddles them

Wild - Looks surprised and he's very animated so he wouldn't expect them to fall asleep, smiles and rests his head against theirs after throwing his cape over them as a blanket

Four - Freezes for a moment in surprise before smiling and chuckling, he can't move Player so he's stuck but in all honesty he doesn't mind- would look a little concerned from how tired they looked tho

Wind - Debates pushing them off as a joke before seeing how tired they look and holding back, he's a little annoyed (not at them but more the circumstances) and probably asks someone to help move them onto their bedroll, leans against them as they nap

Bonus

First - Most careful man ever, gently moves them to their bedroll, tucks them in, if their hair is in their face would brush it away and probably press a kiss against their forehead before letting them rest

Courage - Smug bastard because he chose them and would probably wake them and shrink under their glare then try to make it up to them by letting them use his arm as a pillow

Koridai - Smug but smarter about it, let's Player rest against his shoulder and probably leans his head against theirs too and might fall asleep

#cloud answers #Anon asks

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internet-sadass · 3 months

Text

An Eye For An Eye (Peter Strahm x female reader)

Blurb: you gave Strahm some hickies he can't hide so he's giving you a limp no one will miss.

Warnings: anal sex, anal fingering, spanking, dom/sub undertones, punishment, mild humiliation/degradation

"Have a fun time last night?" Perez asked, shooting Strahm a grin.

Strahm had blissfully forgotten about the little 'reminder' you'd left him on his neck. You hadn’t even had the decency to leave it just an inch lower so it was below his shirt collar. Not only that, but it wasn’t just one hickey, it was a cluster of them that almost merged together to form a mega-hickey. It looked like a cricket ball had collided with the side of his neck and left a nasty purple bruise behind.

"Don't...just don't." Strahm was in no mood to explain or to be teased today. He'd faced enough annoyance already this morning, desperately trying to figure out a way to cover the damn thing up. Apart from wearing a scarf all day, he'd accepted his fate and the stares he was going to get for the next week or two until the hickies healed.

"I'm just glad you're able to relax a bit and let off some steam in your down time." She said, smiling. "Seems like whoever you were with last night also let out some serious frustration."

Letting out a long sigh, Strahm willed himself to hold it all together right now and ignore the looks some of the other agents milling around were giving him. At least Hoffman wasn't here. He knew that bastard would practically jump for joy at the chance to harass him about a singular hickey, let alone nearly five of them.

"Agent Strahm, have you-"

Oh fuck, speak of the devil , Strahm thought, wishing the ground would open and swallow him up.

Hoffman had a smirk playing on his full lips. His blue eyes met Strahm’s then dropped to the mottled bruising adorning the right side of his neck. Strahm glared at the shorter man, hoping the intensity of his gaze would be enough to deter Hoffman from opening his mouth.

"Are those lovebites?" Hoffman didn't even try to keep his voice down, practically announcing his question to the whole building. He took a step closer, squinting at Strahm's neck in an exaggerated fashion. Strahm wanted to sock him right in his stupid smug face.

"They’re not damn ‘lovebites’, Detective Hoffman." Strahm said through gritted teeth. Composing himself, he tried to think of a realistic excuse for what had caused the mottled bruising on his neck. He drew a total blank and instead figured he should tell Hoffman in a professional manner to shut the fuck up about the hickies.

"It's interesting that the condition of my neck is such a concern to you when we have far bigger things to worry about like a killer still being active and on the loose." Strahm hoped this response was enough to get Hoffman to stop focusing on the condition of his neck and actually start being a pain about something less humiliating.

Hoffman's smirk remained plastered on his face, making him look incredibly punchable (in Strahm's eyes, at least).

"I was expressing my concern for you, Agent Strahm. It looks like something tried to maul your neck." Hoffman spoke loud enough that those milling around them heard his comment and tried to subtly look over at the confrontation going on between the two men.

“Plus,” He continued, “I could say the same thing for you. Going out and fooling around with whoever it is you're running with doesn't scream 'I'm dedicating everything I have in me to solving this case'. Seems likes your priorities are in the wrong place."

Dumbfounded at the nerve of Hoffman to say something like that in their fucking workplace, Strahm just stood for a few moments, staring at the shorter man with a look of utter contempt.

Gathering up what was left of his shredded dignity, Strahm cleared his throat and decided to close this conversation before Hoffman could start speculating anything else about his sex life.

"Well, standing around debating what I should or shouldn't be doing in my free time isn't helping us make any progress so I suggest that we start discussing something actually relevant."

Hoffman gave the hickies one last look, raising an eyebrow at Strahm then glancing at Perez, before walking off, satisfied that he’d caused Strahm enough angst for that morning.

***

Throughout the day, the topic of the markings on Strahm's neck came up, whether explicitly through comments or implicitly through the confused or concerned looks people were giving him.

In the late afternoon, Strahm got a moment to himself, and dashed off to the bathroom to 'admire' the damage you'd done to his neck. He groaned looking at it. It was a vivid purple mass, so dark in places that not even concealer could have bought him a little more dignity and lessened the shock value.

Sighing, he splashed water on his face, readying himself to return and preserve with his job. But later, oh later he was going to teach you a lesson you wouldn't forget.

***

"Hey, how was wo-"

"Get in here!"

You'd barely had the chance to greet Strahm before he'd pulled you into his apartment and slammed you up against the closed front door. He held you there, a fist tangled in your hair, pinning you to the door. A muscle in his jaw twitched as you stared up at him, wide-eyed like a caught rabbit. A tremble of fear and arousal travelled through your body.

"Peter-"

"Do you have any idea the shit I've had to put up with today because of this?" He hissed, pointing to the hickies you'd oh-so kindly given him last night. "Not just from that bastard Hoffman, but from every fucking person I walked past today. All of them, giving me this look like I'm some sort of disgraced pervert."

The fist in your hair was yanked, making your body bang against the door. Strahm's short temper and hot-headed nature was something you were used to, but this was a whole new level of it you'd never seen. Regardless, the way he was already manhandling you and putting you in your place was making arousal blossom in your belly. You gripped your thighs together, letting the friction of your jeans give you a bit of relief.

"I'm sorry, I just got carried away last night." It was the honest truth. You'd been too absorbed in grinding on his thigh to consider that the placement of the various hickies you were sucking onto his neck was too high up for him to be able to hide them.

"Just got carried away." Strahm parroted your words in a low, dangerous whisper. He looked away for a moment, blinking like he always did when he was frustrated.

His gaze came back to rest on you.

"If I have to walk around with a collection of fucking hickies the size of a small country on my neck, you have to limp the rest of the week." He spoke slowly, spelling out your punishment with deliberate and weighted words.

It took you a few moments to connect the dots and figure out what Strahm had planned for you.

Oh , you thought, heart sinking and stomach twisting in on itself, he was going to absolutely break you.

***

Although Strahm had initially made you count every stinging slap that bounced off the walls of his apartment, after a certain point he’d given up on forcing you to speak. Hearing you gasp, whine, and beg him to ‘be gentle’ was far more enjoyable than listening to you struggle to count the number of times he’d hit your mottled ass. The collage of angry red slap marks was slowly turning into a mass of bruises, meaning you yelped even louder than before when he laid another spank across your ultra-sensitive flesh. You weren’t sure how long you’d been there, bent over the back of the leather couch, hands tied behind your back, forced to endure slaps from both his hand and his belt. It could have been hours, or it could have been a measly twenty minutes. However, right now, you didn't have it in you to figure out which of those two options it was. Your brain had turned to mush, and you were only capable of letting out pathetic sounds and wincing.

“You learnt your lesson yet, hm? I don't think you’re going to be able to sit properly for at least a few days.” Strahm whispered to you, purposefully bending over you so the fabric of his slacks would grind against your raw skin. He was so hard that you could feel his cock pulsing in time with his quickened heartbeat. A feeble groan left your lips.

A hand gripped your hair and wrenched your lolling head up, turning it to the side so you were forced to look up at him.

“Answer.”

“Y-yeah, I have.” You said breathlessly. “Don’t even think I’m gonna be able to walk.”

Strahm chuckled, releasing your head, running a hand down your naked back. Your skin had broken out into goosebumps thanks to the coldness of his apartment.

“Don’t be so dramatic. It's just a little bit of bruising.” He said, drawing back from you to look at the ‘little bit of bruising’ covering the entirety of your backside and spilling onto your upper thighs.

You heard him walk away into another room, and you weakly tried to look at where he’d gone to. The pain warming your lower body seemed to radiate upwards, making every muscle ache like you’d simultaneously strained all of them. Turning your head to try to get a view behind you made you flinch.

Strahm returned, carrying a small bottle you knew all too well. He caught your gaze and saw your expression turn.

“Oh, you thought we were finished here?” He asked, his tone mocking and bitter.

He looked dangerous right now, with his cuffs rolled up over his forearms and a smirk on his face. The bottle lid was flipped open, and he squeezed some clear fluid onto his fingers. He was merciful enough to grip your calf rather than your thigh to shift your legs open.

A shiver ran through you as you felt the cold slimness of lube against your hole.

“Sorry darling, I know it's cold.”

That was the first bit of softness Strahm had shown you this evening, and the pet name made you squirm. However, the softness was short lived, as he circled your rim with his fingertips, making sure it was completely coated before he started to work his fingers past the tight ring of muscle. A glob of lube trickled down over your neglected cunt, sending another shiver through your body. You bit your already torn up lip as his two fingers filled you, sinking into the tight muscle of your ass until they were fully hilted in you. He didn’t give you much time to adjust before starting to scissor his fingers, working you open, reminding you that he was doing the bare minimum here to prep you.

The fingers slipped out of you, leaving your hole at least a little more pliable and loose than before. You listened as Strahm’s slacks hit the floor, and he stepped out of them. At this point, you’d totally resigned yourself to taking his punishment without complaint. The firm head of his cock, cold from the lube, pressed against your rim as a hand gripped your hip to keep you still. More pressure was applied until Strahm felt his crown breach the firm ring of your hole and delve into the velvety flesh of your insides. He watched himself sink into you, his dick standing out against the purple and red of your abused flesh, groaning as he felt himself fill you.

“P-please, it’s too much-” You stammered, pathetically trying to struggle away from him. The stretch of his thick, veined cock in your ass had jolted you out of your apathy.

The grip on your hip tightened.

“Yeah? Too much, huh?”

Strahm’s tone was practically poisonous. Like a prey animal, you froze.

He rammed the last two inches of himself into you, his hips colliding with your bruised backside, making you cry out like a struck dog. He held himself there, adjusting to the vice grip your ass had around him, so tight it was almost painful, purposefully grinding his skin against your own to elicit some more whimpers from you. Leaning over you, the silk of his tie brushed against your back, making your skin twitch.

“If it's too much, how come you are taking me” Strahm interrupted himself as he began to thrust into you, punctuating each word in the rest of his remark with a sharp snap of his hips. “So. Fucking. Well.”

He didn’t expect an answer, and you didn't give one, your mouth hanging agape as fresh tears welled in your eyes. It hurt like hell to have him stuffing his impressive length into a hole which had only ever taken the smallest size of plug you could find. Despite how badly the stretch of your walls stung, there was slick leaking between your thighs. He was stretching you out so well and rutting into with such force that it felt like he was literally re-arranging your guts. Each thrust elicited pain and pleasure in equal measure, as the slap of his hips against your ass made all the bruises and welts sting.

Strahm happily used you, taking all the frustration that had built up that day and letting it fuel the vigorous movements of his hips. It felt downright cruel to do this to you; however, he was hell-bent on ‘teaching you a lesson’ and making sure you had a limp that you, nor anyone around you, couldn't ignore. Besides, he could feel how wet you were every time his balls hit against your lips, so it wasn’t like you weren’t enjoying the ‘lesson’ he was doling out.

It took a great deal of skill for Strahm to pull out before he exploded inside you. Although it would have been easier for him to just cum inside you, he had something else in mind for how he wanted this to end. Jerking his engorged and lubed-up dick over you, he let ropes of cum adorn your marked-up ass and puffy rim. The salt of his seed made the welts left from his belt sting, but you were too exhausted to even react to the discomfort.

Standing back from you, light-headed from his orgasm, Strahm admired the sight of you, slumped over the back of the couch, your legs limp and trembling. Judging by the colour of your cheeks and the way your hole stayed slightly open, he could confidently say that you’d be limping for as long as he had to deal with the mess on his neck.

An eye for an eye , Strahm thought as he offered you his arm to lean on as he led you to the bathroom to get you cleaned and patched up.

#peter strahm #peter strahm x reader #peter strahm x female reader #strahm x reader #strahm x reader smut #peter strahm smut #peter strahm x female reader smut #saw smut #saw fanfic #peter strahm saw #peter strahm fanfic #strahm smut #saw x reader

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fenny-self-ships · 1 year

Text

How villains would pull you into a spontaneous hug~~

My first request!! Thank you @bread-bastard!!

Prince John~!

This man is MAJORLY touch starved

But is far too proud to admit it

He’d waltz in after a long, arduous day of taxing the poor into oblivion, tired and grumpy, and just... plop his head against your chest

No arms, no warning, just face buried in the crook of your neck, grumbling under his breath

If you know what’s good for you you won’t say a word -- If you do, he’ll up and leave in an instant, face red and blabbing about insolence. How dare you question his behaviour!!

But if you wrap an arm around his waist... he’s not gonna protest

A shockingly tender moment for how cold he usually is <33

Sir Hiss~!

He seems to be quite a touchy person, given all the gentle coils on the Prince’s shoulder, and the slinking around his back

You’d be doing some menial clerical work, counting coins or signing tax returns (HAH), when he carefully drapes himself over your shoulders like a warm, squishy scarf!

A comfortable place for him to perch, as well as providing you with a lovely neck pillow while you work

The confidence is just a façade, really

Should you mention it, he’d stutter and squeak out an apology, quickly squirming back onto his cushion

Let him have his moment

Scar~!

Smug and self-assured, he’ll take what he wants whenever he wants it, no warning or room for protest

If he wants a hug, he’ll pull you over with a lazy paw, and before you know it, the entire weight of his feline self is on top of you

At least he’s one of the scrawnier lions

If you complain or try to push him off, he’d just pretend to be asleep

But you can tell. Cocky asshole.

As much as he pretends to be regal and intimidating, he can be quite the cuddle-bug -- just find the right places to scratch, and he’ll lie with you for hours!

Hades~!

He’s very touchy

VERY touchy

And TALL

If he wants a hug, he can and will pick you up

Lifts you up, holds you against his chest or in his lap, never once stopping whatever conversation he’d started beforehand

If he’s feeling a little more suave, he’ll drape an arm over your shoulder and pull you into his side

Here’s hoping you don’t die of heatstroke in his arms

#I LOVE THIS #I'M OPEN FOR MORE HEADCANNON REQUESTS!!#IF YOU HAVE ANY!!#self ship #disney villains #prince john #sir hiss #hades #scar #beautiful lovely taxes ✨✨#x reader #headcannons

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guardianofrivendell · 2 years

Note

So I’ve been throwing up all night and day, to the point ever water makes me sick and I just wanted to feel some warmth, how would the company react to a sick modern-reader?

A/N: Since I was stuck on every other WIP I had (joy) I opened this request again in search of something else to write. I felt like the company reacting to a sick reader has been done so many times, so I didn't really know how to write this while still being original. I figured I'd do it headcanon style, because people seem to love it when I do that. Besides... laughter is the best medicine right? Although I haven’t made that many jokes in this one, I’ve been a good girl :)

Requested: well yes, there is an ask at the top of this post isn't there...? @that-teen2003 this one's for you

Warnings: mentions of being sick, throwing up (non descriptive), awkward dwarves, everyone brings out their inner Dori at some point, green (both the word and the colour)

How the Company Reacts to a Sick Modern Reader

it's not like you were doing it on purpose, getting sick

even though most of the Company thought you were at first

the Dwarves weren't hostile towards you but they weren't exactly friendly as well

you couldn't blame them since you kind of ambushed them, appearing out of nowhere

popping into Middle Earth straight from The Modern World™

you gave each and every one of them a heart attack

a lot of high pitched shrieks were heard when you fell into their midst

none of them wanting to admit you startled them

insisting it was you who had screamed like a little girl, not them

extra deep and low voices and rumbles for a few days after

even if they agreed to take you with them, planning on leaving you at the first human settlement they passed, it didn't mean they were happy about it

you weren't exactly a useful addition to the Company

no battle experience

no fighting skills

hardly any strength compared to theirs

no beard

no equipment or weapons, not even a blanket or an extra pack of clothes on you

you were wearing sandals for Durin's sake, having to stop constantly to get little rocks, pebbles or twigs out of them

questioning but mostly disapproving looks about your choice of wardrobe

which was a shirt with shorts, and the sandals

tHe sANDALS

"I was enjoying my day at the beach, it's not like I planned on ending up here!"

but Dwarves are Dwarves, their hearts still in the right place

some might be a little off center but they're trying

everyone giving a few spare items so you were a little more protected against the elements

Nori giving you items you knew couldn’t be his

Ori starting to knit thick woolen socks to keep your toes from freezing in the mountains and a scarf to match

but it wasn’t only the elements you were struggling with

it was also the food, or the lack thereof

surviving on meager portions of stew every single day while hiking non stop took a toll on your body

really bad

as if you weren’t a burden enough

not your words

you heard the mumbling and complaints about you slowing them down

so you decided to be helpful and look for edible plants to get some extra vitamins in, trying to recall your biology lessons on how to recognize poisonous plants and flowers

you were over the moon when you found some kind of plant that looked pretty similar to green cabbage

the Dwarves were a lot less enthusiastic when you showed up with your arms full of the greens, refusing every bit you tried to offer them

“I don’t like green food”

“If it’s green it’s not meant to be eaten”

“Please tell me there’s meat on the menu as well”

cheering when Fíli and Kíli showed up with their hunted prey

smug little bastards

too stubborn for your own good you refused the meat and munched on your green cabbage leaves instead

it tasted horrible

your stomach seemed to agree on that because the next day you were sick

we're talking stomach aches, fever chills, nausea, cramps

“ye look a bit green there”

cue boisterous laughing

encouraging back slaps from the dwarves trying to get you to move faster than your snail pace

most of them just found it hilarious you weren't feeling your best at first

“Told ya te keep to what Bombur made us, but ya wouldn’t listen”

but then you got worse and couldn't go any further

your legs felt like jelly and all you wanted to do was curl up on your borrowed bed roll and suffer in silence

some of them started to take pity on you and could convince Thorin to set up camp early

Oin gave you something to help your stomach and told you to go to sleep

but instead of helping, whatever he gave you made you violently sick

strong dwarven medicine isn’t meant for humans after all

you emptied your stomach in the nearest bushes, scaring most of the wildlife away and perhaps a few Dwarves too

they finally realized this was serious

the rough dwarven warriors turning into 🌈Care Bears🌈 almost instantly

they took shifts sitting by your side

each Dwarf trying to make you feel better in their own way

Thorin’s way of helping was stopping earlier that day to give you the chance to rest, he loudly declared that this was all he would and could give you

the extra blanket on top of you was his, he claimed not to know how it got there

his eyes constantly went to the side of camp where you were resting to check how you were to keep an eye out for orcs or other scum

Kíli and Fíli sat by your side together, one as calm as could be while the other constantly urged his brother to get Oín, because you shivered or you hadn’t moved for about a minute

“Kíli, they’re sleeping, of course they’re not moving”

Bofur took up his shift when a bout of high fever kept you awake, telling you stories about Ered Luin that were so fantastic and magical that you doubt they were true (they weren’t)

Dori of course had an absolute field day taking care of you, bossing everyone around (meaning mostly Ori poor lad), fussing over you every chance he got

Bifur gave you a miniature sculpture he had whittled while you were out the first few hours, the detail on it was astonishing

you loved it so much you kept it in your hand the entire time

Gloín gave you something similar to rusk, to try and nibble on it when you started to feel better, it helped his wife back when she was pregnant with his wee little son

“They’re not pregnant Gloín!!”

Balin told you stories during his watch, just like Bofur did, only he told you about Erebor and its marvelous architecture

you were fascinated at first, finally learning about the location the Dwarves were heading to - they’ve been rather secretive about it after all - but when he started on the history and kept reciting dates, you felt yourself dozing away

the next morning you felt a lot better

it probably just had been a simple food poisoning

(you should’ve known better than to eat random plants but curse your stubborn nature)

that night when Bombur made yet another stew, you kept your mouth shut and silently ate your portion

the dwarves fell back into their normal habit of teasing you maybe a little too easy

“Hmm, you know what this stew misses Bom?”

you stared at Bofur, who was grinning at you like a Cheshire cat - even though he didn’t know what that was, you realized - and you knew what he was going to say

don’t say it

don’t you dare say it

“Greens”

Permanent taglist: @roosliefje @kata1803 @entishramblings @artsywaterlily @sleepy-daydream-in-a-rose @marvelschriss @kumqu4t @the-banannah @dark-angel-is-back @the-fandoms-georgie @lathalea @xxbyimm @sokkasdarling @katethewriter @aredhel-of-gondolin @elvish-sky @moony-artnstuff @kirenia15 @vicmackeybullshxt @hey-its-nonny @beenovel @cassiabaggins @shethereadinghobbit @justfollowtheroad @laurfilijames @fizzyxcustard @brokennerdalert @linasofia @naimadrawsstuff @errruvande-2-0 @amaryllis23 @enchantzz @narniaandthenorth @sketch-and-write-lover @blairsanne @ruthoakenshield @midearthwritings @alone19-24 @medusas-hairband @ren-ni @kyramaximoff

Everything dwarves: @clumsy-wonderland

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braisedhoney · 1 year

Note

Okay but he is NOT looking at that mannequin, he is looking at US and he KNOWS what he's doing... what a smug bastard. Rightfully so, I suppose I love him very much, he's one of the few Narrators that I'm genuinely obsessed with... don't tell him that, though, he really doesn't need the ego boost. Also, other than me literally fangirling about your Narrator, I do have some questions (cough that's just me fangirling in a different way cough): His scarf... adventure line... things... I recall you saying that they are multiple adventure lines - Does he just, take them from other Narrators? Or does he just happen to have multiple? Also I know that they are insanely heavy (we know that this man is shredded if he has to carry not only the weight of them but of his ego around) and can be sharp, but what is the texture of them? Do they feel soft or silky or..? Also, thank you for makin' art Cap'n! It's always a joy to see it cross my dashboard. Sincerely, Crewmate #[REDACTED]

if narry likes to do anything, it's break the fourth wall into teeny tiny pieces lol. he knows about the limits of his universe (or at least that there's a window between him and the player, who knows just how far that awareness really goes) and he is willing to USE IT.

thrilled that you enjoy my design for him so much though!! honestly he already knows he's infested my brain and the brains of my crew, so what can we say :'D his head's already way up in the clouds, he lifted himself up there with the arrows.

about the adventure lines: i think they're just something he has. he can make more of them too, it's just that four is usually the easiest to doodle and keep track of for individual paintings lol. if i had to guess at the texture, maybe... have you ever touched really high quality fabric that almost feels like it wasn't woven? as if it was just a substance that poofed into existence? crazy high thread count, really smooth, etc. almost like what you'd imagine melted glass would feel like if it didn't burn.

#and thank you for your very sweet ask!!#holding up all my crewmate anons en masse #or even better having narry carry you all but nicely #he has to be nice about it or i remove one of the lens in his glasses #the lack of symmetry would kill him lol #ney's chatter (ask answers)

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railroad-migraine · 2 years

Note

You live!! Yay!!

"Promise?"

"Promise."

With changeling! Reader x ashton bc with fae, promises are very serious. Only you write him the way I love to read him~🌷

Anonymous asked: Can you please write a 'I'm yours. No returns.' For the ship prompt with ashton? I feel like this suits them a lot

Also inspired by this ask from @trippygalaxy

Notes: 1.1k words. Established but new relationship. Fluff. Reader is a non-specific fae race. A combination of prompts helped me out of my writer's block and lack of motivation. Enjoy my darlings x

Song Rec: Take On Me - 2017 acoustic by a-ha

~ Poet

We're Allowed To Be Foolish

-> Ashton Greymoore x GN!Reader

"Right," Ashton says when he claps his hands together, the soft sound melding with with the crackle of the fire behind them. "The children are finally asleep, so that means us adults can finally relax."

Imogen has finally settled, no evidence of any nightmares with her back supported by a tree stump, Laudna's head leaning on the sorcerer's shoulder. A spare cloak is tucked under her chin and covers both their laps and legs. Meanwhile, Orym's form is engulfed entirely by Fearne, having no need for a blanket when he has a faun and her fur to keep warm. Soft snores come from that cuddle pile softly, one of her hands on Orym's back, the other on Mister's. Old man Chetney, ever so stealthy, lies a few feet from Fearne, back to the fire and a small shiv gripped in his fist. His ears twitch when the odd twig snaps and causes a loud spark. The flames seem to lick higher and brighter closest to where FCG is stationed for the night. Their metal glows and reflects like a warped mirror found in shadow.

It's calm - a rare thing when on the road and picking up errands and quests here and there. A travelling band of adventures, ready and eager to taste what's on offer.

You crack a smile from where you sit in the grass, knees pulled up to your chest and a threadbare scarf draped over your shoulders. "We're just on watch, Ash. It's no different from any other night."

"That's where you are wrong, my fair-looking fae," they smirk as they crumble to the ground at your side and pass you your waterskin. You take a grateful sip, but nearly choke when the scarf is suddenly and harshly tugged off from your shoulders. The thin fabric hangs loose when Ashton slings it around himself. The smug bastard. You scowl and pull it back enough so that there's enough material to share, ignoring his cheeky face in the corner of your eye. It isn't even a cold night, but Ashton's body heat is bleeding through the scarf so effortlessly that without it you might just shiver. "Tonight just so happens to mark two months since our first shared watch together."

You are about to protest, but words fail you as soon as your memory does. Lips parted and eyebrow quirked, you simply offer: "I... that doesn't seem right. Surely I would've remembered such a thing."

"Ouch. That hurts. Stings even. And I thought you would be the sentimental one." They lightly punch your shoulder, a disgustingly sweet platonic gesture, deepening your frown because you want nothing more than a kiss instead. But that can be asked for later. "It's no biggie. Really. It's not like anything of significance occurred that night." He pauses. "Certainly not anything to do with us, up to our knees in ice cold water, fishing for a special rock after someone so elegantly threw in the river-"

"Chet trying to use the Sending Stone as a skipping stone! How could I forget?" you chuckle, face warm at the memory.

It had been an accident - you'll agree with Chetney that the magical item does look deceptively mundane. You had been on watch with the gnome, camped near a stream that seemed to grow more powerful as the night went on. Bored out if his mind, he turned to tossing stones into the water until watch was over. The ripples made in the beginning were nothing special, until the water seemed to glow and sparkle, as if having swallowed something magic. Long story short, Chetney was far too short to go wading in the deeper waters with you to look for the Sending Stone.

Luckily for you, Ashton had been only resting their eyes and was more than willing to help you while Chetney fretted from the shore.

If the barbarian hadn't been there to ground you, the waters might have swept you away into the darkness when you swiped the stone from the rushing current.

Your heart aches a little. The only tie to Dorian the party had left was nearly lost that night. You can only hope that the bard has since found his way safely with his daft brother since he left. Ashton brings you back to the present, nodding enthusiastically and laughing at the memory. You hush them, giggling under your breath so not to disturb fast asleep Bell's Hells scattered around the camp. "You do remember, I knew it!"

Things work differently in the Feywild. So much simpler from your perspective, but awe-inspiring to the friends you've made on your travels - Fearne being a comforting and familiar exception. Time is a weird soup, a mantra, a phrase she brings up whenever you think of what might have been. If you had stepped outside of that portal ten seconds sooner, you might have crossed paths with Ashton even earlier.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, reaching out to touch their face. He stills upon contact, leaning into your hand while your thumb traces a line of gold filigree running from his temple to his cheekbone.

A blurred reminder of a time before you came to Emon. A time before you could save their ass when they got in trouble.

How can someone be so strong, resilient, and yet so fragile and tender? You manage to find your voice, distant and faraway, mumbling more so to yourself rather than to Ashton. "You're not what I thought you'd be like."

He bares his teeth in a crooked grin. There's a hint of approval in his eyes when they flick between your own, trailing briefly down to your mouth before meeting your gaze again. "Mean and scary?" His voice lowers to a purr - for the sake of the party or your own, you don't know. He makes a sharp movement, a motion as if going to bite your thumb on his cheek. Instead he kisses the corner of your mouth.

That's an understatement.

"Yeah."

"Yeah well..." Ashton muses, leaning back on their hands and glancing up at the clear sky overhead. "I thought you'd be kinda mean and scary too. I mean, a fae? Clearly not from this part of the world, a complete enigma with wicked magic..."

"Me?" you grin, tilting your head in mild disbelief. The idea seemed bizarre at first. Ashton - the barbarian whose head has slag glass holding back a galaxy, who is decked out in leather and wields a hammer engraved with "FUCK OFF" - was intimidated by you. "You thought I was the scary one?"

It's laughable, enough that you begin to ignore your stiff back and sore limbs from travel. Ashton huffs out an amused breath of air. He looks at you, a playful glare darkening his face. "Terrifying." He must not like the thoughtful expression on your face, so he leans forward a little, craning his neck to look at you properly. "Hey."

"Hey."

"... I'm yours. No returns. No take backs."

Emotion wells up in your throat. You try to swallow it down, thick with hesitation. "Promise?"

"Promise. Cross my heart." He drags a finger over his chest, a simple gesture of innocent trust in you that ignites you to your very core. "Hope to die."

"Hm..." you croon, pinching their chin and nudging their face closer. "That's quite a bold oath you just made there, Ash. You're lucky I'm not a fae that would take advantage of your foolishness."

You feel him smile against your lips. "As the designated adults on watch tonight, I think we're allowed to be a bit foolish."

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citygirlcharlotte · 2 years

Text

The Sister Halstead (Part 7)

Masterlist

Pairings: Hank Voight x Female OC, Will & Jay Halstead x Sister!OC

“I can barely walk Henry this isn’t funny.” I whined.

After last night, earlier this morning and in the shower, I guess you could say I was hooked on henry and everything he has to offer. Unfortunately, that also means I’m going to be hobbling for at least a day because of just how good he was. At his age, I didn’t know that smug bastard had it in him.

“You’re supposed to be able to keep up sweetheart.” He laughed, fixing us both some coffee.

“I definitely can, you’ve just got a dick the size of a beer can and I’m not used to it yet. We’ll have to get some more practice in later.” I purred, kissing him lightly and running my hands through his still damp hair.

“Sounds good to me sweetheart.”

Henry had to get back to searching for the guy who shot Jay while I got to work on ordering breakfast for him and will. I grabbed my red headed brother a change of clothes from my spare room and headed down to my car. First stop food, second stop the flower shop and third stop a pharmacy to get a plan b.

“Done, done and done.” I smiled, praising myself for making quick work.

I pulled into the hospital parking lot armed with bags of food and flowers to make my brothers lives less depressing.

“Knock Knock!” I announced, barging into the room.

Will was still asleep on the pull out bed while Jay was visiting with one of Will’s doctor friends and what looked to be one of his fellow detectives.

“Charlie, I hope there’s food in one of those bags.” Jay whined.

I set up his flowers in a beautiful arranged before slinging Will’s clothes at his sleeping body and unloading the food options on Jay’s overbed table.

“Choose your poison sir.” I said with a mock bow as I made him scoot over and joined him on the bed.

“I’m starting with this eggs benedict.” He announced, quickly finding a fork.

“He’s gonna puke if he eats all of this.” Will’s doctor friend stated.

“Lighten up Doc McStuffins, he won’t eat it all.” I snorted, reaching for a muffin.

“You’re literally going to get crumbs on my hospital bed.” Jay complained.

“You literally almost gave me a heart attack by getting shot. Get over it dumbass.” I smirked, adding a kiss on his cheek for good measure.

“It’s Dr. Rhodes.” The doctor friend interjected.

A light bulb went off in my head.

“Your Neils son?” I asked.

“How do you know my dad?” He asked, getting a little defensive.

“Charlotte Lahey, my dad is Charles Lahey the owner of Lahey Engineers. We worked on the last 2 new builds for your dad’s store.” I explained.

“I think I’ve met your father once or twice at my dads office. Give him my best.” Dr. Rhodes said before turning to leave.

“Weirdo.” I commented, plucking my muffin into my mouth.

“That’s Will’s best friend.” Jay commented.

“Stop talking with your mouth full.” I complained at him.

His coworker sat watching us interact for a moment before it turned into staring and was making me uncomfortable.

“Charlie, nice to meet you.” I greeted, extending my hand for her to shake.

That seemed to break her out of her staring problem.

“Hailey Upton, I’m Jay’s partner.” She replied with a firm shake.

“Aren’t you lucky then, you won’t have to deal with him for a few weeks.” I joked.

Chuckles over here was scarfing down food like he hadn’t been fed in a week.

“I didn’t realize you were seeing someone Jay.” She commented.

I looked around confused.

“Whose he seeing?” I asked intrigued.

She looked me at with a confused look.

“You?” She questioned.

I nearly projectile choked my muffin across the room and Jay actually choked on his egg.

“Disgusting!” I heaved, trying to catch my breath from my coughing.

“I’m gonna puke.” Jay whined.

All of the commotion woke up the sleeping brother.

“What the hell is with all this noise?” Will complained.

“Are you with Will then?” Hailey asked confused.

“Double fuck no lady.” I exclaimed. “They’re my brothers.”

“Brothers?! Since when did you two have a sister?”

“A couple of months ago. Turns out old man Halstead had a daughter he didn’t know about.” Will explained, reaching for a muffin.

Hailey took a second to look at the three of us.

“You two make Jay look adopted.” She commented.

“It’s the hair.”

After Hailey left, I got insanely bored lounging around while Jay slept and Will went back to mine to get ready for shift. Thankfully the boredom ended soon as I got a call from Henry.

“Hey baby.” I answered.

“Hi sweetheart. How’s chuckles doing?” He joked.

“Not being very chuckly at the moment. Mans is asleep. Are you with his partner right now?” I answered.

“Yeah she’s here.”

“Give her extra paperwork or something, she made me choke on my muffin because she thought I was dating one of my brothers.” I gagged.

Henry let out a loud laugh on his end.

“Don’t know if I can do that honey. We caught the guy who got a shot at Jay though. He’ll be hobbling just like you today.” He laughed.

“Can I hit him?” I asked.

“I’ll hit him for you. I just wanted to let you know we’re going to take him down.”

“Good, thank you baby.” I sighed.

“When’s he getting discharged?”

“Tonight I think. With Will playing doctor at home, I think they’re gonna let him leave early.”

“He staying at home?” Henry questioned.

“I was going to offer my place. Will is already on and off living with me and Jay has already claimed a guest room. I was going to see if he wanted to stay over at mine until he’s better.” I explained.

“That’s a good idea. I’ll feel better knowing you’re not alone at night.” He confessed.

“Another way to make sure of that is for you to stay over more.” I coaxed.

“Probably not a good idea while your brothers are under your roof sweetheart. I’ve got to head into an interrogation but I’ll call you later okay? I love you honey.”

“Love you more baby, be safe.” I replied.

“Can you not rub my singleness in my face.” Jay whined.

I didn’t even hear chuckles awaken!

“Your partner seems like she wants to change that.” I teased, heading over to his bed.

“Don’t start.” He whined.

“Since when did you and Henry move onto the L word?” He asked.

“Last night actually.” I smiled.

“You happy?” He asked me.

“Incredibly. With you guys and now Henry in my life, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.” I lamented, leaning my head on his shoulder.

“I better get to meet this guy soon.” Jay warned.

My body straightened up at that comment.

“There’s something I have to tell you but you can’t get mad.”

“Don’t really think you get to control that.” He replied.

“Pinky promise me Jay bird.” I complained, holding out a pinky.

We made a promise before I spilled the beans.

“Neither Henry nor I realized this until yesterday but you know Henry.” I explained.

Jay had a look of confusion and he tried to go through the rolodex of people he knew for a ‘Henry’.

“I don’t think so, are you sure?” He questioned, confused.

“Yeah. He mostly goes by Hank but I prefer Henry.” I explained.

He looked confused again before his face went blank.

“I only know Hank Voight, my boss.” He growled.

“I am in love with a man named Henry Voight.” I confessed.

Jay didn’t even yell, he went dead silent and it was freaking me out.

“We didn’t even know we knew the same people until he came in here yesterday and the dots got placed together.” I confessed.

Tears started to well in my eyes at his silence.

“Please say something.” I begged.

He looked me dead in the eyes and shook his head ‘no’.

“Hank Voight does not deserve someone as kind and loving as you Charlotte.” He stated.

“But he does Jay.” I tried to reason.

“No he doesn’t! You don’t know what he’s done, what he’s capable of. That man is going straight to hell one day and you are not going down with him.”

“Then let me love him here on earth, Jay. He makes me so happy it hurts, and I am incredibly in love with him it’s ridiculous.” I sobbed.

His eyes softened for a second at my tears and he reached an arm out to pull me into his chest.

“We are discussing this later Charlie.” He vowed.

I felt like shit the rest of the day knowing that Jay was upset but not willing to give into what I knew he wanted me to do. Will caught onto the vibes as he came in to check on us, ultimately giving Jay the all clear to head back to my place.

“Come on chuckles, I ordered burgers.” I called out.

I heard him hobbling into the living room as I got a call from Henry and quickly stepped onto the balcony.

“Hey baby.” I answered.

“Hi honey. You really didn’t have to do this.” He replied.

Hailey had mentioned on her way out that the team was going to be pulling over time tonight working on this case so I made sure to send them all dinner from this Italian place I like to order from and some coffee from my favorite café.

“Not a problem, I know you guys are working hard.”

“You’re their new favorite person now. Upton spilled that the Halstead’s had a new sister as soon as she got back and with dinner, I’m sure you’re in for a round of beers once they finally get to meet you.” He joked.

“Do I just get to be introduced as Jay’s sister or do I get to be revealed as their sexy boss’s girlfriend?” I teased.

That earned me a small laugh.

“Let’s start with the first one. I’m still waiting for your brother to hit me for the second.”

“Fair enough. How are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m okay. We should be done before midnight then I’m heading home and straight to bed and getting back here first thing in the morning.”

“Or you could come here? Some well deserved cuddles with your girlfriend?” I offered.

“Really don’t think that’s a good idea honey.”

“Chuckles will be asleep by then and Wills on shift all night. The choice is yours but I won’t complain if you crawl into bed with me.” I tried to coax.

“We’ll see sweetheart. I’ve gotta get back to the team.”

“Okay baby, love you.” I smiled.

“Love you more.”

I returned to the kitchen to see the chuckles in question stuffing his face yet again.

“You leave me any?” I asked, looking at the nearly empty box of fries on the table.

“I was shot Charlotte.” He deadpanned.

I rolled my eyes at him using that as an excuse for eating a family sized box of fries.

“Asshole.”

---

“Come on Jay bird, time for bed!” I shouted.

He had some nighttime pain meds that would knock him right out and I needed to check some stitches.

“Yes mom.” He groaned playfully, taking the pills from my hand as I lifted his shirt to see his bandages.

“Looks good. How do you feel?” I asked.

“Sore. Better now though. Thank you Charlie for letting me stay here.”

“Not a problem. You’ll always have a place in my home.” I smiled, leaving his with a kiss to his head and dramatically tucking him in.

“Don’t you let me catch you with the TV after lights out Mr.” I teased.

“I’m literally 10 years older than you.” He groaned.

“Then act like it!” I yelled from down the hall.

I spent the second half of the night on the couch, browsing some shopping and ordered Will food because he called me complaining that he was starving. My grown brothers were children I swear.

Deciding to call it a night, I checked on Jay one more time before retreating to my room and crawling under the covers. The bed still smelled like my honey and I feel asleep with a smile on my face.

I was however awoken 2 hours later to ruffling in my room. Had I not heard Henry swear under his breath as he accidently hit his foot on my dresser, I would have thought it was an intruder.

“Come snuggle.” I smiled, throwing the blanket open for him to enter.

He crawled into bed quickly, bringing me securely into his chest while wrapping his arms around my body tightly.

“Good night pretty girl.” He smiled, giving me a quick kiss on the lips.

“Good night baby.”

---

Taglist:

@royaltysuite @jadakiss13 @ego-allie-bap @acdassenza @alldaysdreamers @sande5098

#chicago pd #hank voight #hank voight x reader #jay halstead #jay Halstead x reader #will halstead #will Halstead x reader #chicago fire #chicago med

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mysteroads · 24 days

Text

Hangovers, Detainment, and a Three Teacher Pile-up

Summary: Starting the day hungover and with upset kids is no fun, but both Shigaraki and Aizawa have things they need to get done. Tomura wants to get his hands on the third years' exam outline, Aizawa plans to get the students of all grades to do some critical thinking, and Aisho wants Tomura to stay safe today. All these would be best accomplished with Tomura *at* the school proper, but there's no way the villain would go willingly...

Excerpt:

Japanese alone wasn’t enough to convey the strength of his emotion, so Tomura switched to English (a truly excellent language for swearing), mixing in French and Mandarin when it felt appropriate. By that point, they’d reached the main area, and all the little hero students had congregated by the door to wait on their teacher. They had obviously been curious to see what all the fuss was, and their jaws dropped when they saw what was going on. Spotting them, Tomura snapped (in Japanese again), “You little fuckers! You’re supposed to be heroes, right?! Then get your hands off your dicks and help me!”

The useless brats looked at each other, then Hakegure ventured, tentatively, “Does this count as kidnapping? Even though he’s a villain?”

“It’s called detainment when the person in question is a suspected criminal or villain,” Aizawa corrected, grunting a little as Tomura managed to wiggle enough to land an elbow jab against his ribs. “In this case, Mr. Shigaraki here is going to fulfill part of his rehabilitation requirements, whether he wants to or not.”

“It’s true you’re the only one of us who hasn’t audited an academic class!” Sako said, voice bright. “Even Spinner overcame his shyness long enough to follow Midnight for a day.”

“That time did feel a little bit like kidnapping too, though,” Magne said, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

“But I ended up having fun and I survived the nosebleed, so suck it up, Leader,” Spinner said, far too cheerfully. “Time for school!”

“I’m going to destroy you, Spinner,” Tomura swore, thinking about Spinner’s carefully tended Animal Crossing home and all the terrible things he would do to it. The destruction would be legendary.

“Will he be able to come to class, though?” Midoriya asked, eyes on Tomura’s bandages. “He can’t walk around barefoot, even in the halls. His bandages will get dirty, and I don’t think normal shoes would be good for them either.”

“See? Smart kid,” Tomura praised, and tried to pinch Eraserhead, but his fingers couldn’t grip properly and he just hurt himself.

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Toga said, waving her hand and jumping up and down. “I have an idea! I know! Nobody move!” Before anyone could ask, she dashed upstairs and was back down in record time. “I was going to save these for a present, Tomu-chan, but I think you can use them now!” She held up a pair of fuzzy blue socks, complete with rubber grippers on the bottom in the shape of cat pawprints.

Even from the side, he could see Aizawa’s smile turn all gooey before he hid it behind his capture scarf. Of course. The fucker loved cats. Of course he’d be into stupid socks with paws. “That’s perfect,” Aizawa said, and Toga beamed.

Tomura wanted to die.

He’d thought the hangover was bad, but this… this was true suffering.

As a villain, Tomura had sworn to never stop fighting. To never give up, to struggle until his very last breath. He’d fought against the odds time and time again, learning with every failure and coming back stronger… He'd grown in strength and resolve to the point all of Japan had been terrified to see his next move, but right here, right now, Tomura Shigaraki gave up the fight. He went limp, and hid his burning face against Aizawa’s shoulder.

“Did you finally give up, villain?” Aizawa murmured.

“Go die, hero.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He sounded so smug, the bastard. “Come on, students, villains. Class starts soon.”

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mamamittens · 4 months

Text

Mountainside Slide (+18)

This is part 10/12 of December Event 2023 for @cyborg-franky

MarcoXAceXOC(Ray)

NSFW content is very mild and at the end, no sex occurs.

Also low-key implying this is the same day as Shaking the Snow Globe.

Warnings: Near death experience via avalanche, failed suggested sex in a hot spring, failed plan for beach sex, implied future sex, horny Ace (it's the near death experience that got him really going), and implied authority kink for Ray and Marco (different sides of the experience).

Word Count: 2,276

They could be literally anywhere else. In fact, with very little effort, they could be on a sunny beach along with damn near everyone else. Ray looked out across the sea to the nearby sister island.

Yep.

Still stunningly beautiful beaches.

But no, he’s bundled up in a thick winter coat trudging up the mountain side to ski of all things.

He loves Ace, really he does, but Ace has some really weird ideas sometimes. Marco, the bastard, went along with it happily. Probably enjoying the change in scenery and amused to see the usual hot-head have to wear more than cargo shorts. Yes, even Ace had to wear something more protective than his beloved shorts. Notably not as much as Ray or even Marco, but still. It was an unusual sight, he supposed.

Still, if even the literal fire logia had to cover up to avoid frostbite, what chance did Ray have to be reasonably warm? Thick scarf tucked into an equally hardy jacket, burying half his face in the fabric in an attempt to not lose his nose. He never considered himself overly attached to any particular body part before but certainly didn’t fancy losing any of them to wind chill. Ray clenched his fists around his snowboard through the beefiest gloves he’d ever worn.

Even with all the thick layers, he was still a bit cold.

The minute they were somewhere Ray could strip himself free of his cotton/wool/composite fabric prison, he was sticking whatever was the most frigid right down Ace’s pants. The bastard deserved it for putting them through this. Fingers, toes, whatever it took to hear the startled yelp that would make up for it all. A little bit, at least.

“We’re almost at the top!” Ace declared, breath a thick fog as he beamed behind him. Marco’s posture screaming amusement like he knew something Ray didn’t. Perhaps Ray will trip him into a snowbank at some point. Wipe off the smug grin he knew Marco was wearing beneath that scarf.

Although… the view was pretty great up here, Ray admitted to himself. Casting a glance over the mountainside. Pristine white peaks breaching the clouds above miles and miles of slopped snow. Trees and cabins dotted the landscape here and there. The air so cool and clear it almost made his heart stop from the sheer scale of it all. Different but not unlike gazing out at miles of open water. Danger and beauty woven into the same landscape.

Would Ray ever stay here? Hell no.

But perhaps Ace had a point in going up here at least once. It was a hell of a rare view after all. Especially compared to beaches, which were on nearly every island they docked at. Less people too, so Ray didn’t need to worry about a nice day out being interrupted by scores of people gawking at Ace and Marco—understandably so, but the high pitched coos really cut into his naps. Watching Ace flail once he realized he was being hit on also amusing but not what he came to the beach for in the first place.

None of that up here though.

It was… nice.

Still fucking cold as shit, but nice.

“Ah. Looks like we’ve made it, yoi.” Marco puffed, squinting out across the slope they’d chosen to ski down. It was a very long way down but pretty damn clear. Perfect to race down, in fact. Marco glanced at Ray, eyes squinted so the blue was all he could see, amusement as clear as the challenge in them. “Want to see if we can leave Ace in the snow?” Marco asked loud enough Ace heard. His head jerking as he looked back at Marco in affront.

“Oi! As if you’d beat me!” Ace laughed, slamming down his board and securing his boots in place. Ray grinned, mindful to not get a mouthful of fabric, as he did the same.

“Oh, I don’t know, Ace. I think we could beat you easily.” Ray commented breezily, watching Marco follow their lead and ready himself.

They lined up at the top of the slope. Ace eagerly hunkered down to launch himself as quickly as possible while Marco stood with a relaxed posture.

“Ready?” Ace snarled, eyes narrowed into thin slits of ice. “GO!”

Ace was, naturally, the first. A burst of fire shooting out his ass. Because of course Ace decided that’s the best place to give himself a head start.

Ray chortled, jerking forward with his body low, arms out behind him as fabric gave way to feathers. Marco just behind him awash with blue fire. The two of them having the same idea as they used their respective wings to boost their speed. The wind curling around them in frigid bursts.

In short order, they blew past Ace who yelped in shock.

“Bye, Ace! See you at the bottom!” Ray called back teasingly, squinting his eyes against the wind. Snow grinding beneath his board in a smooth, unending roll as he cut across the landscape. Marco close by, not trying particularly hard to get ahead of Ray.

All that mattered was beating Ace, after all.

A wave of heat exploded behind them and Ace shot out ahead like a bulled of eye-searingly orange fabric. Manic laughter erupting in his wake as he quickly left them behind with spurts of fire dancing along his back. The warmth was nice while it lasted, but something else quickly took Ray’s attention from the race.

The sound of something heavy crumpling. Folding in on itself with a crash. Rolling and grinding behind them.

Startled, Ray looked back and nearly fell, his heart suddenly thundering in his chest.

A wave of snow was curling behind them like a wave, threatening to overtake them.

“MARCO!” Ray yelped, Marco reacting instantly with a startled glance at Ray then following where his eyes were. Marco swore, bending his knees significantly as he swerved towards Ray.

“Hold onto me!” Ray reached out and wrapped his arm around Marco’s waist. Blue fire curled around him as Marco used his greater wingspan to shoot them forward. “ACE! YOU DUMBASS! KEEP GOING!” Marco screamed out over the growing roar of snow collapsing behind them.

Ace looked back, smug grin plastered on his face before it crumbled into panic.

“SHIT!”

But despite Marco’s best attempt, the wall of snow only grew faster as it gained momentum and weight.

With a soft curse Ray could barely hear, Marco kicked his feet and erupted into fire. Disappearing from Ray’s grasp before a large talon grasped his jacket. Lifting him up as Marco shot forward like a bullet, snapping up Ace and taking to the skies. Flying above the avalanche as the snow pelted Ray’s board, narrowly ripping off his boots.

The avalanche crashed down the mountainside swiftly, exploding into the flattened valley below where, thankfully, no one was waiting.

Ray smacked Ace as Marco flew them to safety.

“Only you…” Ray huffed, pushing down the instinct to squirm in Marco’s grasp. His instincts telling him to escape the clutches of a predator furiously. Not that it would do him any good. And besides, as dangerous as Marco was, Ray would let Marco pin him in place with his talons any day of the week.

“That’s enough excitement for one day, yoi~” Marco cooed at them, bending his neck to playfully glare at Ace who was doing a remarkable job looking like a scolded puppy.

Marco banked sharply and headed back up the mountain. With practiced ease, Marco took them to a cabin fairly high up. Specifically, a hot springs station.

Now this, Ray could get behind.

Carefully, Marco set them down and helped with removing their snowboards, his own abandoned to the wall of snow that had threatened to bury them.

They were received with some surprise from the host, an older woman with large brown wings and teal hair.

“Oh my! I wasn’t expecting to see anyone today, where’d ya’ll boys come from?” She asked before gesturing to the doorway to her left. “The bathing area is through there, would you like a room to be prepped for you? We’re due for another storm shortly, I don’t think you’ll want to go down the mountain after soaking.”

“Sure. But won’t the hot spring get snowed in while we’re in it?” Marco asked. She smiled wryly.

“Up this high we have a more… sauna approach to personal hot springs. Usually, the windows are left open to air them out but with the storm coming, I was about to close them. There will still be little windows closer to the ground for air flow, though. Feel free to open them as you wish. Separate rooms or just one?” She asked, opening her guest book and presenting it to them.

“We’re good with sharing, ma’am.” Ray commented. She nodded and grabbed a key from the wall behind her.

“Token matches the door. Dinner will be delivered to your room in a few hours. If you need to call your crew, I have a snail up here, Tikki.” She laughed, looking to the rather nice pillow where a deep blue snail slept.

“Maybe later. Oyaji isn’t expecting us back tonight but he’d like to know we’re safe anyway.” Marco accepted. She nodded and waved them to the opposite side.

“Go ahead and grab supplies and settle into your rooms. I’ll set out the futons while you three soak.”

Ray gratefully snagged a robe for himself and let Marco lead the way to their room. The hallway was wide, doors lining them in even spaces, implying smaller rooms that grew larger as they went further in. Marco glancing at the signs outside the doors until he found one with a white snowflake and thundercloud on it. The room was nice, a Kotatsu set up already and a fireplace with wood stacked along the wall. A large space near the fireplace clearly meant for their futons.

They eagerly removed their snow laced clothes and set the on the hangers to dry before throwing on their robes. Ray taking the opportunity to press his cold hands to Ace’s bare thigh, Marco and himself laughing when Ace yelped.

“That’s for the avalanche.” Ray commented.

The floors were chilly under their feet but bearably so as they followed signage to the bathing area. It felt wonderful to get cleaned up before entering the hot springs. The room was built around the natural hot spring with wide windows overlooking the landscape. Clearly having been closed recently judging by the thin line of melting snow under them. The air nippy but mostly warm, thankfully, as the expected snowstorm rolled in.

Ray sank into the water with a pleased sigh, the last of the chill finally leaving his bones as Ace settled in next to him, Marco taking the other side.

“This is nice… was this part of the plan?” Marco asked Ace with a lazy grin. Ace shook his head.

“Nah! I wanted to snowboard to the bottom and then head back to the village for dinner before taking the last ferry ride back to Summer Isle. Maybe walk the beach a bit. But this is pretty nice too…” Ace glanced at Ray with a smirk. “We could make it even better though~?” Ace purred meaningfully, grabbing Ray’s thigh.

“Ace…” Ray locked eyes with the sign by the door and sighed. “Not in the hot spring. They’ve literally got a sign up about that.” Ace pouted looking back at the door.

There was, in fact, several signs up. A warning about the recommended time they were allowed to stay in the water for safety reasons. Do’s and don’ts. And there, on the bottom, was a warning to not indulge in adult activities. On threat of public embarrassment, losing their housing for the night, and being charged for cleaning the hot spring of any unwanted fluids.

Oh, and a warning that sound carries very well from the hot spring so they’re definitely going to be heard.

“We’re pirates…” Ace mumbled and Marco smacked the back of his head, reaching past Ray to do so.

“Absolutely not. We’ve got a room for a reason.”

Ace perked up at that and Ray rolled his eyes.

“Did your plan include sex on the beach too?” Ray scoffed before catching Ace’s guilty expression. “Absolutely not. I’m not getting sand anywhere near there. Marco, we should kick him to the corner and make him watch.”

Marco chuckled softly, curling his arm around Ray’s shoulders.

“He’d whine all night.” Marco warned into Ray’s damp hair. “But he does look cute when he whines…” Marco considered.

“Ack! N-No, c’mon! Guys, please don’t! I-It wasn’t a serious plan, I swear!” Ace protested, wrapping his arms around Ray’s side to plead into his neck with sweet kisses.

“This is literally exactly why you’re in trouble, Ace.” Ray sighed, pointing back to the sign. Trying not to smile when Ace let out a soft whine, burying his face into Ray’s neck in defeat.

Ray felt Marco shift his arm and saw his hand grip Ace’s hair gently. Tugging to get his attention.

“Behave and we’ll see.” Marco informed Ace, his voice making Ray shudder, feeling the edge of authority rake over his spine. Ace blinked with purposefully wide, innocent eyes, settling down at Ray’s side.

Ray sighed, resigning himself to a very long night with both Ace and Marco riled up.

Almost freezing on the way up the mountain, nearly getting crushed in an avalanche, and now mediating Ace’s libido and Marco’s authority kink…

Well, along with the view, he supposed the trip was worth it.

#December Event 2023 #one piece #marco the pheonix #Fire Fist Ace #One Piece OC #MarcoXAceXRay

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