#it was really hard to post this post because i got too anxious | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yeleltaan · 2 years

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//Hello everyone! Alright, here’s an update on things:

I’ve got one more exam to do before I’m done. The good news is that I’ve got plenty time to prepare it, and I’ve decided I’m not going to wait until then to do the things I want to do. That being said, I know it’s going to take me a little while to truly pick up the pace here and I’d like to give a little priority to adopting some healthy habits and improving my lifestyle.

There’s one thing I wanted to address though. I realize that I haven’t really engaged much with the dash and most blogs, both the newcomers and the returning faces (which, by the way, I’m very glad to see back- seriously, it’s lovely to see characters embark on new stories when they seemed to have reached a conclusion, and watching writers come back to the fandom after some time away).

Truth is, I’ve found the dash overwhelming lately. This comes partially from me being too busy to engage, and therefore experiencing something like FOMO because I can’t quite keep up with stuff and be a part of it. The Soulsborne RP community is either getting bigger or becoming more visible to me, and that’s great, but it does also present a challenge to me because if I’m engaged in your character and/or blog, I want to see what you do! I want to see all these things you’ve put effort into, I want to give you feedback, send an ask here and there, have my muse interact with yours!

If I give your post a like, I haven’t just looked at it. If it’s a drabble/headcanon/thread, I’ve read it and re-read it to get a good understanding of it and try to find whatever clues or references you’ve put in there. Perhaps it’d be better for me and the other mun if I gave likes more liberally, but I don’t know, it’s important to me that if I give your post a like, I’ve genuinely had a moment where I’ve stopped and paid attention to nothing but that exact post.

Anyways, where I’m getting with this is that I do feel rather bad that I haven’t quite been able to... welcome? you with the attention and energy I would have liked to have given you. I hope that despite the delay with which I approach you or continue our interactions, we can make up for lost time later.

I’m unsure how I’m going to handle this. I don’t intend to unfollow anyone because of this, as my issue isn’t a lack of interest but my difficulty displaying it and putting it into practice. I do think I’m going to keep a fairly passive attitude (for now) when it comes to seeking new RP partners though, because I cannot comfortably seek and approach some of the blogs I’ve seen mutuals interact with when I’m already struggling to give my time to said mutuals. I’ll still be happy to plot and write interactions with blogs that approach me though.

Anyways, thank you for your patience once more and hopefully it won’t take long for you to see me more here. May things go well for you!

#posting this at late hours (for me!) because I am driven by impulse #ooc #I'm also admittedly hesitant to start liking posts sometimes... it's silly but when I haven't really engaged with someone for a long time #it feels odd to break the ice with certain things. It's probably not worth it to think that way and I am working towards fixing that #working towards feeling less anxious about the simple stuff. Because we all need some feedback and interest from people to keep going #and feel appreciated #and I don't like that this flaw of mine gets in the way of me showing my appreciation to the things you put hard work into #nothing prompted this btw- it's just that I've been thinking about this a lot last year #and with the resurgence that came with Elden Ring. I hope people don't interpret my quietness like there's some 'bad blood' going on #I don't want to like... limit myself to one spot in the fandom either #I think that's one of the biggest factors to how I initially lost my drive to write Ornstein: got too comfortable in one spot of the fandom #so when most of those people started to leave or become inactive I had a really rough time approaching the others #even though I genuinely had nothing against any of them. I don't want that to happen here and I want to be engaged in the community #'Croc don't use the tags of your ooc post to add 50% of the information' challenge when #jokes aside. I hope you're all doing alright. Looking forward to making these posts less necessary! ^^#also I hope the 'this is how I treat likes' part doesn't come off as pretentious. I only want to give a little perspective and clarify that

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vanessagillings · 2 months

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I’m posting the ever-so-rare photo of myself alongside one of my characters based on my childhood because today is World Autism Acceptance Day, and I wanted to show my little corner of the internet who this particular autistic person is:

I was officially diagnosed in February, at age 38 (I’m now 39). A lot of people thought I couldn’t be autistic. Some people who know me in real life still don’t. And until around 10 years ago, I didn’t think I could be either, because I was nothing like the stereotype media portrays. I was told that autistics lacked empathy (untrue), and never played make-believe (also often untrue) and only enjoyed STEM. I was — and am — an empathetic artist -- and make believe? I can spend days sketching finely bedecked bears brewing tea or carefully choosing the right words to weave tapestries of fiction — though perhaps my hyper focus was a bit of a red flag. Even so, how could autism describe me? I was a good student. I got straight A's. I didn’t act out in class. I can make eye contact…if I must. And lots of girls hate having their hair brushed with an unholy passion, right? Clearly I swim in sarcasm like a fish, so autism couldn't be why I was so anxious all the time, could it?

If someone had told me when I was younger what autism ACTUALLY is — instead of the nonsense I’d seen on screens — I would have seen myself in it. I didn’t hear that autistics have sensory issues until I was in my mid-twenties, which is when I first began to really research autism symptoms, and I had almost all of them: sensitivity to light, smells, fabrics, temperatures, textures, and certain touches, all of which make me feel anxious, I fidget (stim), I never know what the hell to do with my hands or where to look, I talk too little or too much, I have special interests, I have entire animated movies memorized shot-by-shot and can remember the first time and place I saw every movie I've ever seen but I often forget what I'm trying to say mid-sentence, I echo movies and tv shows (my husband and I have a whole repertoire of shared echolalias, making up about 20% of our conversations), I was in speech therapy as a kid, I have issues with dysnomia and verbal fluency, I toe-walk, I can't multitask to save my life, I like things just-so, I’m deeply introverted but not shy, I need to recover from all social interaction — even social interaction I enjoy — and I find stupid, every day things like grocery shopping, driving and making appointments overwhelming and intensely stressful, sometimes to the point where I struggle to speak. It turns out, I am definitely autistic. My results weren't borderline. Not even close. And while these aren’t all of my challenges, and not everyone with these symptoms is autistic, it’s definitely something to look into if you present with all of these things at once.

So why did it take me so long to get diagnosed? The same bias that exists in media threads through the medical community as well, and because I'm a woman who can discuss the weather while smiling on cue, few people thought I was worth looking into. Even after I was fairly certain I was autistic, receiving an official diagnosis in the US is unnecessarily difficult and expensive, and in my case, completely uncovered by my insurance. It cost me over $4000, and I could only afford it because my husband makes more money than I do as a freelance illustrator — a job I fell into largely because it didn’t require in-person work; like many autists, I have been chronically underemployed and underpaid, in part due to physical illness in my twenties, which is a topic for another day. But it shouldn’t be like this. It shouldn’t be so hard for adults to receive diagnoses and it shouldn’t be so hard for people to see themselves in this condition to begin with due to misinformation and stereotypes. Like many issues in America, these barriers are even higher for marginalized groups with multiple intersectionalities.

It’s commonly said that if you’ve met one autistic person, you’ve met one autistic person. This is why it’s called a spectrum, not because there’s a linear progression of severity (someone who appears to have low support needs like myself might need more than it seems, and vice versa), but because every autistic person has their own strengths and weaknesses, challenges and experiences, opinions and needs. No two people on the spectrum present in the same way. And that’s a good thing! No way of being autistic is inherently any better than any other, and even if someone on the spectrum struggles with things I don’t — or can do things I can’t — doesn’t make them more or less deserving of respect and human dignity.

But speaking solely for myself, the more I learn about autism, the happier I am to be autistic. I struggle to find words and exert fine motor control, but my deep passion and fixation has made me good at art and storytelling anyway. I find more joy watching dogs and studying leaf shapes on my walks than most people do in an entire day. More often than not, the barriers I’ve faced weren’t due to my autism directly, but due to society being overly rigid about what it considers a valid way of existing. My hope in writing this today is that maybe one person will realize that autism isn’t what they thought — and that being different is not the same as being less than. My hope with my fiction is to give autistic children mirrors with which to see themselves, and everyone else windows through which to see us as we actually are.

If you’re interested in learning more about autism or think you might be autistic, too, I recommend the Autism Self Advocacy Network autisticadvocacy.org and the following books:

What I Mean When I Say I’m Autistic by Annie Kotowicz

We're Not Broken by Eric Garcia

Knowing Why edited by Elizabeth Bartmess

Unmasking Autism by Devon Price, PhD

Loud Hands edited by Julia Bascom

Neurotribes by Steve Silberman

(trigger warning: the last two contain quite a lot of upsetting material involving institutionalized child abuse, but I think it’s important for people to know how often autistic children were — and are — abused simply for being neurodivergent).

Thanks for reading 💛

#autism acceptance day #actually autistic

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moonbakeries · 1 year

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HOW I MANIFESTED MY DREAM LIFE IN A WEEK

BACKSTORY

So I decided to fully immerse myself in "persisting" and fulfilling when I listened to Lonely one by LOVA because I spent around an hour just sobbing because I related to the song.

the week that I started was around Easter break and I was under the most amount of stress I have ever been through and I could see it the effects on my body

I was breaking out with huge pimples even though I was on accutane, I was averaging 2 hours of sleep a day every week for 2 weeks, my period had going on for 2 weeks, I was losing weight rapidly (was under 35kg:( ) my anxiety was at an all time high because I got harassed again(sexual assault victim). I used to have severe depression and have had multiple failed attempts of suicide. AND YES I WAS DESPERATE AS FUCK TO MANIFEST THIS DREAM LIFE OF MINE WHICH IS NO LONGER A DREAM

in the mornings I would be super anxious but I learned how to deal with it and get myself into the state super easily

HOW I DID IT

I GOT OFF TUMBLR: you know how many times I doubted myself only to realise I was doing everything right

I also read and listened to Edward Art MULTIPLE TIMES

Within a week of fulfilling and persisting, I had manifested my dream life. just like that. I woke up one morning and everything I had ever desired was right there. and it was super easy.

all I did was affirm(to remind not to get), visualise and feel. I would only do these methods if I wanted to, if I didn't I wouldn't.

Within a few days, the anxiety lessened so much and it started to feel natural.

this was a question on Bambi's " how I manifested with hard circumstances " post which has now been sadly deleted but I remember copying this because it gave me hope at the time I copied it (don't hope, just know)

"But isn’t ranting “not letting the old story die out?” you and i could rant until our minds are cleared, just as long as you flip my thoughts, you are on the right track. I rant for 2% of my 24 hour days. The other 98% i was persisting in the fact that creation was done. as “time” went on, it began to feel more natural and I felt more at ease. I held onto that feeling because I knew this was when I would get my desires and I did."

and that was when I knew I shouldn't give up and I just kept going even when I wanted myself to just get on tumblr and overconsume

I actually nearly decided to see what I was "doing wrong". I clicked on one of Aphrodite's posts but I didn't read it. I just asked myself if I would look through it if I had my desires and I wouldn't and since I already have all of my desires I didn't.

Whenever the anxiety was too strong and I could feel the frustration and desperation building up, I would just rant and it helped me calm down and get back into the state super easily.

why?

because STATES MANIFEST THOUGHTS DON'T

which is why you can rant.

you know how many FUCKING DOUBTS I had, but I didn't even give them attention coz they didn't deserve any and how many times I wanted to just give up, but I was like NO, STFU, I DON'T WANNA LIVE MISERABLY ANYMORE and now I'm not :)

The affirmations I used:

It is done

I am living my dream life

I am in my desired reality

The 3d will conform as long as i keep persisting

Imagination is the real reality

I also daydreamed, but since imagination is the real reality they were real

WHAT I MANIFESTED

- desired appearance

- name change

- family change

- skills (drivers licence etc)

- apartment and furniture

- wealth

- a bunch of random materialistic things

- desired friend group (I absolutely love them!)

- desired uni and always getting good grades

- outfits from pinterest

and a bunch of other things

- I also ended up manifesting an sp without even knowing and he's pretty much I everything I scripted him to be(scripted a year ago because I didn't really care for a relationship) but this happened before I manifested my dream life

after a year and half of being on loablr I finally manifested my dream life. and you can too

(there was probably over 100 things I wanted but I realised what I want is not much, nothing ever is when you know about loa and yes, i was super desperate)

you don't need anymore information other than @angelsinluv states post and fulfillment challenge

you shouldn't ever be stressed or worried while manifesting whatever you want, because you wouldn't stress if you had it

TAKE YOUR TIME

YOU GOT THIS

#success story #affirmations #loassumption #law of assumption #dream life #manifesting #manifestation #loa

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mionemymind · 2 months

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Lost in the Universe (Part 2)

Summary: The aftermath of Y/n being rescued from the alternate universe.

Warnings: Fluff, Kissing, Cursing, Jealousy

A/n: @tynix had requested a part two. And I wanted to post something since I JUST TURNED 23 BABES!! So I guess this is a birthday gift for me?? Hope y'all enjoy the fluff. Also, I love all the Candy Montgomery gifs that I keep seeing :)

Word Count: 1.3k

Masterlist

Part 1

“I appreciate you teaching her how to control her powers, but we cannot have you going through different universes again,” Wanda complained into Y/n’s chest. Today was an off day and the couple decided to spend much-needed quality time together. Y/n slightly chuckled at Wanda’s pouty-ness, ever since they came back to their universe, Wanda had been feeling extra clingy.

“You worry too much my love. There was no doubt in my mind that you would’ve found me.” Y/n tweaked her words a little as she remembered alternate Wanda’s words. “We’re tethered,” Y/n thought. She kissed her girlfriend’s forehead, continuing to run her fingers through Wanda’s hair.

“How can I not worry? You try finding me throughout different universes.” Y/n chuckled more much to Wanda’s dismay. The redhead was more than anxious about the whole situation. She tried her best not to be so angry at America for the obvious accident, but not knowing what universe Y/n was in spiraled her to think the worst.

“Well my love, you’re more powerful than me. So I would have a harder time getting to you.” Wanda rolled her eyes at the compliment but still smiled. “Not only that, I would’ve probably talked to other Wanda’s out there to help me find you.”

“Speaking of, how was my counterpart? Was it freaky to see me in a different universe?” Y/n hummed for a bit, letting herself get lost at the thought of alternate Wanda.

“I was really scared at first. You being the Scarlet Witch, I wasn’t sure if alternate Wanda had the same powers as you. Not only that, I begged in my heart that you were good too. I wouldn’t know how to deal with an evil Wanda - wait if she’s evil, she might be emo too - and your emo phase was pretty hot babe.” Wanda swatted Y/n’s chest as Y/n laughed at the obvious joke she said. Intertwining their hands, Y/n rubbed circles in Wanda’s palm, “But seriously…when I first got there she called me dekta like you. I almost thought it was you, however, something inside me could just feel that it wasn’t you.”

“So what happened?” Y/n sighed as she rubbed Wanda’s back. The redhead enjoyed the constant feeling of Y/n’s touch. “She called me out. Told me that I’m not her Y/n. Rather than giving me a hard time for being in her universe, she let me into her house and kind of relieved my anxiety.”

Wanda smiled at the thought of her counterpart being nice to her girlfriend. Although Wanda could never imagine a world where she would hurt Y/n, she was just extra grateful to know Y/n never landed in that scenario. “Did you like her more than me?” Wanda joked.

Y/n snorted at Wanda’s lame joke, “Well she did make me hot chocolate.” Wanda rolled her eyes again as she lightly hit Y/n’s chest one more time. “Keep hitting me woman, I’ll make America send me there again.”

Wanda lifted her head and flashed her red eyes at Y/n. “Don’t you even dare.” Y/n smiled at her girlfriend’s obvious jealousy and gave her a small kiss. “I wouldn’t - plus the only reason I would want to is to help my counterpart get their shit together.”

“What do you mean?” Y/n kissed Wanda once more before laying her head back onto the pillow. “Alternate Wanda said that alternate Y/n hasn’t confessed her feelings yet, which is annoying because they literally live on a farm together. How platonic can that shit even be?”

“What if your counterpart was just as scared as you?” Y/n lingered back to the time before she confessed her feelings to Wanda. All the yearning and pent-up feelings were enough to compete with any love-struck idiot. “I can imagine that, but at the same time, I hadn’t bought a farm with you yet and she did.”

“You and this farm.” Wanda kissed Y/n's arm. “Should we get a place of our own?”

“Where would you like to live?” Wanda thought about it, no particular location was coming to mind. “Something that doesn’t scream American capitalism.”

“Italy farmlands?” Y/n moved her hand from Wanda’s back up to Wanda’s head, running her fingers through her hair again. “What made you think of that?”

“I forgot the title, but I remember liking this movie that was located in the Italy farmlands.” Y/n kept racking her brain for the title, nothing came up though. “When you were searching for me, did you ever find alternate me’s?”

“I found a couple. One was almost like you but two of them were drastically different in style so that helped a lot.” Wanda recalled the moment she almost mistook one of Y/n’s counterparts for her Y/n. But it all came back to that tethered feeling.

“One of the Y/n’s was actually with their Wanda. It was fun to talk to a different version of myself. She was quick to tell me that I was in the wrong universe and tried to direct me to you.”

“What if she thought you were there to steal the other version of me?” Y/n joked once more. “I wouldn’t want a different version of you. You’re it for me dekta.” Wanda got up once more and kissed Y/n slowly. “Don’t ever forget that.”

“Never.”

Alternate Universe

“Who’s the slut?” Wanda barely entered her house before the accusations were thrown at her by Y/n. “Excuse me?” Wanda had returned from the edge of their farm where counterpart Y/n was rescued from.

“You heard me. Who. Is. The. Slut.” Y/n stood with her arms crossed, her eyes motioned to the two cups at the coffee table. Wanda rolled her eyes with a devilish smile, “You.”

Making Y/n work for more answers, Wanda walked away to the kitchen. “Very funny Wanda,” Y/n mocked. “I wasn’t being funny,” Wanda batted her eyes innocently which annoyed Y/n even further. “Who the fuck was it?” Y/n was irritated beyond belief. She had come home from a mission hoping to see her crush just to find out that some bitch came over and drank her supply of hot chocolate with “her girl”.

“Well, she’s this very hot girl,” Wanda said as she played dumb, she walked slowly to Y/n and continued, “She’s very charming and kind too - actually, she helped me with the farm today.” This angered Y/n beyond belief. Who the fuck comes to her home and manages to steal her girl within hours? She had a five-year plan that’s been in motion since the day she met Wanda.

With one last step, Wanda was in Y/n’s space, wrapping her arms around her neck and Y/n held her hips. “Do you like her?” Wanda thought about it for a second, before saying, “Something like that.” Wanda enjoyed the feeling of messing with Y/n, especially with something so harmless.

However, Y/n could not take it anymore. Frustrated, Y/n stepped out of Wanda’s grasp. “Well, I hope you live happily ever after,” Y/n said sarcastically. Before she could walk any further, Wanda grabbed her hand and pulled Y/n back into her arms. She rolled her eyes, “You are so oblivious.”

Not wanting to wait any further, Wanda confidently kissed Y/n, feeling the tether that connected them ignite with a new fire, a new love. Y/n reacted swiftly as Wanda jumped and wrapped her legs around Y/n’s waist. “More,” Y/n begged in her head, her knees were growing weak, but she needed more.

Wanda abruptly cut the kiss off, pushing Y/n slightly back as she moved forward, eager for more. “Will you finally admit that you’re in love with me?” Y/n grinned as she kissed Wanda’s cheek, “I had a plan.”

“Oh yeah? It took somebody coming over to finally rile you up.”

“Speaking of, who the fuck was it?” Wanda laughed as Y/n sternly asked.

“You’ll never guess.”

Taglist: @halobaby @arelyitsherec8 @blackxwidowsxwife @cristin-rjd @madamevirgo @trikruismybitch @paradiselost916 @mmmmokdok @morbid-gaymer @dailyavengering @itsnottilly @helloalycia @randomshyperson @tomy5girls @daenerys713 @ensorcellme @lezzzbehonesthere @imagine-reblog

@sighsam @olsensnpm @tquick99 @feolok @emilyprentisslittlewhore @mvddison99 @iamapotato @yuhloversxx @mjaudrey @upsidedowndanvers @somewhatgreatexpectations @wandavixen @magicallymaximoff @username23345 @coollemonsaresour @littlewinchester15 @aimezvousbrahms @afuckingshituniverse @am-just-a-cosmic-joke-to-me

@ohmygooddamnbisexualmood @diaryoflife @s7uts @newyork1432 @the-anxious-stargazer @hello-mtf @marvelousbelladonna @ima-gi–na-tion @obsessed-with-wandamaximoff @the-camilucha

@itsnottilly @171611 @kaitlynroseb @daisybri7 @drpepperobsessed @bemyvitamin @musicinourlips @marvelousbelladonna @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xastrydx @chasethemoon @naixia00 @lostandsearching @stupidsapphicsstuff @haechanana @the-camilucha @severepeanutartisanhands @owloftheshadows @somewhatgreatexpectations @ywuen @mixed-fandom-mess @loomontoia @ilovemarvelwomen @coxmicbabygirl @cyanide-mustard @mrs-avenger3000 @prentisshoe @andrea-stark @simpforwandanat @abimess @randomshyperson @yourtaletotell @magically-queer-stuff

@imapotatao @iliketozoneout @maximoffbrossupremacy@olsensnpm @psychadelichues @whitelotus00 @taliiiaasteria @tynix @autorasexy @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @hiiraya

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #fluff #wanda maximoff fluff #marvel #lost in the universe

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lovebugism · 7 months

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hi angel! I have a little fictober request … can I pls get holding hands for the first time from the prompt list with steve harrington and shy!reader? maybe they’re in a busy place and steve doesn’t want to lose r so he grabs her hand, not realising how ridiculously flustered she gets <3333

ty for requesting angel :D this can be read as a part two to this fic!

summary: steve takes you to a mall in the city in a desperate attempt to spend time with you, fending off freaks, douchebags, and your anxious tendencies alike (shy!reader, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers cw for mentions of anxiety, 3.5k)

fictober leftovers (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Steve idles between the X-rated horror and thriller sections for several long minutes until he works up the courage to talk to you. You’re a pretty little thing behind the counter, hand in your palm as you scribble into the journal Keith threatened to confiscate from you earlier that morning.

He’s never been this nervous to talk to you. Things are different now. Post-first date, and Steve’s still toeing that wretched line between friends and something more. The puppy love is so painfully mutual, but it’s equally hard to navigate. He can’t come on too strong — not with someone as soft as you — but he’s still got some King Steve left in him. He’s still learning how to be gentle.

With sweaty hands, he walks up to the counter and tries to be subtle about the whole thing. Stealthy, like a ninja. He leans on his folded-up arms and blurts before he means to, “So you’re, like, totally coming tomorrow, right?”

You lift your chin and blink at him with wide eyes. You hadn’t heard him come over, too busy doodling a bunch of nothingness in your notebook. Your stomach whirls at the sight of him. It takes you a moment too long to answer.

“Coming… where?”

“To the mall,” he reminds, then corrects himself with a shrug. “The one in the city— not the shithole we have here.”

“Oh. Uh, I don’t— I don’t know,” you stammer. Steve invited you earlier that week, and you promised to think about it. You did. And you want so desperately to go, but your brain’s too mean, and it just won’t let you.

The disappointment that flashes on his face is fleeting, but you don’t miss it. The hurt softens his features in an unbearable way. It makes your chest ache.

“C’mon,” Steve presses in a gentle lilt. He leans closer to you, eyes twinkling and lips curling. “It could be fun, you know? I mean, everyone’s gonna be there.”

He’s trying his best to persuade you. He has no idea that that’s exactly what’s keeping you from going. Crowds are always stress-inducing, even those of the familiar kind.

“Everyone as in…?”

“Robin, obviously. Dustin, too,” Steve answers, counting on his fingers as he goes. “Max is coming, but Lucas has a basketball thing, so he can’t. And the rest of the little shits are in California, so that’s definitely a plus.”

It’s a dumb joke, but it makes you laugh anyway — a quiet giggle of a thing that makes him grin.

“Uh… Eddie’s coming, too, I think— but don’t let that dissuade you, alright? I promise I’ll protect you from that freak. You don’t have to worry about him.”

You smile because you know he’s joking. You’ve met Eddie a couple times now. He’s always been really sweet to you. Him and Steve just have a strange complex that forces them to be assholes to each other.

“And also, I’m gonna be there. Obviously. So…” he trails off with a wavering smile. So if you don’t wanna come for them, maybe you can come for me, is what he’s really trying to tell you.

“I don’t know,” you repeat, quieter now as you shrink into yourself. You try and fail to meet Steve’s honeyed gaze. “I just feel like I’ll make everything all weird.”

His bushy brows pinch, almost in offense that you’d think you’re anything less than totally perfect. “Why would you think that?”

“‘Cause… I don’t know,” you murmur in a quiet sigh. You don’t want to lie to him, but telling the truth feels so much harder. “They don’t really know me, you know? And I feel like… like I’ll just ruin everything if I’m there…”

It takes Steve a couple of seconds to answer you. He doesn’t know how you could say something that — like you don’t light up every room you’re in. “Well, that’s… that’s just not true,” he argues with a shrug. “They like you. They love you, actually— they just wanna get to know you. And the only way they’re gonna get to know you is if you come hang out every once in a while.”

Your heart flutters. You want to believe him. It’s hard for you to comprehend that anyone could care so much about your presence, so you just nod and don’t say anything further.

Steve is quick to comfort you, almost like he can read your mind. “But if you think it’s gonna be too much, you could always just stick with me. I’ll fend off the freaks for you, no problem.”

His cinnamon eyes glimmer with honey. He looks at you far too fondly to say no.

—————

There’s six of you crammed into Steve’s 733i. It’s already a tight fit, but it’s more suffocating when it’s full of a million different conversations. Almost all of them are pointed your way. Steve tries to bat everyone off of you, but it’s hard to yell at everyone and drive at the same time.

You’re being a pretty good sport about it despite how anxiously helpless you feel.

You wring your clammy hands in your lap and try to regulate your bated breaths, nodding to whatever Max is telling you. It’s hard to hear her because Eddie’s talking to you, too. You’re too scared he’ll think you’re mean if you stop him.

You watch Robin reach for the radio, complaining about all the yelling as she turns up the volume. The cheesy pop song is all you can hear. The conversations around you become a monotone buzzing. You feel like you could just about explode.

“Jesus, you guys are acting like you’ve never seen another person before,” Steve shouts over it all, the only definite thing you can understand. “Let her breathe before she thinks we’re all a bunch of lunatics, alright?”

He’s met with a bunch of muffled complaints, but the noise quietens nonetheless.

Steve glances at you in the rearview, a quick check to make sure you’re still okay. You catch him doing it and try your best to give him a smile. It looks more like a wince.

“Well, it’s your fault for finally bringing someone cool around,” Max argues with all her practiced teenaged ambiguity. “I have to spend all day surrounded by freaks— at least now there’s someone halfway normal to talk to.”

“I’m normal!” Steve insists, face twisted in offense.

“You’re a jock.”

“Hey. C’mon, Red,” Eddie scolds, so obviously playful. “Let’s not go throwing the j-word around—”

The brunette boy huffs. “Thank you!”

“—Jock would imply that Steve’s still cool,” the wild-haired boy continues. “Which he isn’t.”

Poorly hidden laughter fills the small car. Steve nods and mutters beneath it all, “Yeah. Okay. Thanks for the clarification, Munson.”

He glances at you again and finds you cracking a halfway sincere smile. He shoots you a light-hearted glare. “Don’t laugh! You’re just encouraging him!”

“Sorry,” you apologize, hiding your giggle behind your fist. “’M sorry.”

Steve smiles at you, silently tells you he doesn’t really mean it. He’d let Musnon make fun of him all day if he thought it meant he’d get to hear you laugh like that again.

—————

You take your first good breath in an hour when you step out of the car.

Steve shuts it off and gravitates towards you on instinct. His honey eyes are wide as they dart across your flustered features. You see his hands reach towards you, to grab your elbows maybe, but he decides against it.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, quicker than you mean to. “I’m good.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. I really tried to—”

“I know,” you cut him off with a sweet, still quiet smile. “It’s still okay.”

He sighs heavy, like a deep breath of relief. “Okay. Good,” he hums, almost to himself, nodding with a pink grin you could stare at all day. He would’ve let you, but neither of you get the chance.

Your friends start messing around, and the chaos melts into the buzzing crowd surrounding you, and you realize the two of you aren’t the only people on earth. Bummer.

You gather around the large map at the entrance of the bustling mall. “Where should we go first?” Dustin chirps from the front of the crowd. His eyes are as wide as his smile. “Game Player? Sam Goody? Oh, look— they have a RadioShack! I’ve been looking for a new supercomm. It’s on the other side of the building, though, but we can just work our way around, I guess—”

“Jesus, Dusty-Bun,” Robin interjects with a gritty laugh. She stands on the outside of the group, arms crossed over her chest, effortlessly too cool for it all. “Take a breath, buddy.”

“Don’t call me that!” the boy gripes over his right shoulder.

Steve shrugs. “Go wherever you want to. I don’t care.”

Dustin looks to his left, shooting the older boy a glare. “Aren’t you supposed to be the babysitter?”

“You’re fourteen!”

“Well, what if I get kidnapped?”

“No one’s kidnapping you, alright? Trust me,” Steve jokes, only smiling when he sees you trying to hide yours. He puts his hands on his waist and cocks his hip to the side. “They’ll send you right back where you came from. You have nothing to worry about.”

Dustin squints. “Rude.”

“We’ll just meet back at the food court in, like, two hours. And if you don’t get yourself killed, you’ll be fine,” Steve reasons with a nonchalant shrug and a jutted-out lip.

“Oh. Wow. Thanks, Steve. What would I ever do without you?”

He rolls his cinnamon eyes at the boy’s monotone. “Alright, smartass.”

When the rest of the group dissipates, he leans over to nudge your shoulder. It knocks you from your stupor — so deep in your own head you were practically drowning. You blink at him with wide, glassy eyes. “Hm?”

“Do you wanna go anywhere?” he asks with a wavering smile. His laugh is equally forced. “You’re kinda staring a hole into the map there…”

“Oh. No. I was just…” you trail off with a shake of your head. You’re not entirely sure what to tell him, how to make him understand your easily overstimulated mind. “I was just distracted. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. No big deal.”

“Where did everyone else go?” you wonder with a furrow to your brow, noticing the lack of familiar chaos around you.

“Eddie and Dustin went to some movie store, and I think Robin and Max are on the hunt for cassettes.”

“Okay...” you nod with a tremble in your voice.

You’re still not totally used to being alone with Steve. Your friends are usually good distractions. They fill your awkward silences with something funnier and talk loud when you get too quiet. When they’re not around it’s just… awkward silences and quiet air.

You get too in your own head, so eager to impress the pretty boy beside you, that you end up putting your foot in your mouth.

Steve doesn’t seem nearly as apprehensive. Instead, he’s beaming at the fact that he’s finally got you alone. He doesn’t have to worry about quieting Dustin when he gets too loud or shoving Eddie away when he forgets what personal space is. It’s quieter with just the two of you — warmer, cozier, easier.

“Wanna go down to the food court?” he wonders, honey eyes sparkling when he looks your way. “I know you haven’t eaten anything yet, so…”

Your eyes narrow, accusing and playful. “How would you know that?”

“Uh, ‘cause I know you,” the boy scoffs like it’s obvious. “I basically have to force you to eat every morning.”

“That’s not true!”

“It so is!” Steve giggles and it’s heaven to your ears, the exact sound of honey. “That’s why I hate not opening with you. ‘Cause if I’m not around to force you to eat the other half of my Poptart, I’m just, like, worrying if you’re withering away or not.”

Your face burns hot. Your heart swells with a similar warmth that borders on painful. You didn’t think he cared so much about you — or that he ever thought about you outside of work or the occasional hangout.

“Fine,” you concede with your arms crossed over your chest, trying not to seem as flustered as you feel. “Let’s go to the food court.”

Steve grins. He follows you in stride when you start to head that way. “Cool. We can go get one of those disgustingly good burgers or something.”

“For breakfast?” you wonder with a light-hearted laugh.

“Yeah! Like, one of those crazy huge ones, you know? The patties are, like, the size of your fist— make a fist.”

You do. You ball your fingers and hold them up between you. Steve holds onto your wrist for further inspection, fingers long and warm and soft. You swallow.

“Bigger than your fist,” he corrects with a laugh. The sweet sound is drowned out by the swell of yelling teenagers. They talk so loudly and over one another that their conversations become a meaningless drones.

Two in particular shove at one another, laughing loud like it’s fun. One of them almost barrels into you — long blonde hair, tight shirt, tighter jeans, and cologne so potent it stings your nose. He just narrowly misses you, mostly because Steve’s there to yank you out of the way.

The boy’s gentle grip on you tightens. He pulls you close until you’re stumbling into his side. With a strong arm wrapped around you, he shouts at the roughhousing teens — “Watch where you’re going, assholes!”

The scrawny boys walk on ahead of you. They seem apologetic, halfway scared at first. When they realize Steve’s not rushing to beat their asses, they chuckle about the whole thing and keep punching each other.

You’re still frozen in shock — not so much of fear anymore, but of how tightly Steve’s holding onto you. It’s an embrace of the firmer kind, a touch so solid you feel immediately safer inside it. You don’t think you’ve ever been this close before. The teenage girl in your heart starts to spin.

“You okay?” Steve asks when the anger ebbs.

“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing tightly and forcing an awkward laugh. “You don’t have to keep asking me that, you know?”

He nods rapidly, then notices how close he’s holding you. Fearful that he’s made you uncomfortable, he uncurls his arm from around you and takes a small step back. “No, I know! I just wanna— I just wanna make sure, you know? ‘Cause I know you don’t like… all this.”

He waves his hands vaguely out beside him.

You’re immediately cold without him holding you. You wrap your arms around yourself to compensate for the lack of him.

“Yeah, but… It’s not the rest of the world’s fault that I’m scared of everything,” you say with another forced laugh, shifting your weight on your feet. If you could melt into your oversized sweater, you would. “It’s mine. So I can deal with it. I have to deal with it.”

Steve nods, slower this time and with a silent sense of understanding. He steps closer to you and shrugs. “I think the least I can do is make it a little easier on you… And I feel like I’ve been doing the exact opposite of that all day.”

“That’s not true,” you argue with the shake of your head.

His chocolate eyes widen. You’re rarely so assertive. “No?”

“No,” you answer, softer this time as you grow sheepish all over again. Your unsure gaze darts from your dirty sneakers to his twinkling eyes until it makes you dizzy. “You’re actually making it more bearable for me, so…”

“Oh. Okay. Good,” he nods with a smile, breathless because his chest is swelling with pride. He knows the world can be a little much for someone as soft as you. It’s good to know that he’s the exception to all that.

He gets lost in the way you look at him for a moment too long. He clears his throat and stammers, “Uh, do you still wanna go get food?” he asks, pointing off beside him. “We can find somewhere quiet to eat so we don’t have to deal with teenage douchebags the entire time.”

Your heart lurches into your throat. It’s practically your love language — spending time alone in a quiet space, with no overt need for conversation or people to fill the void.

You nod, trying and failing to hide the beam on your face. “Yeah. That’d be nice.”

—————

The quiet place in question is a photo booth on the halfway vacant, furthest end of the mall. Closed curtains, small spaces, and entwined breaths. It smells like his deep cologne, your perfume, and a freshly cooked meal. It’s too easy to forget that there’s a whole world outside of here.

You sit twisted on the bench, facing Steve with your burger trays in front of you. You pluck salty fries from the plate with a trembling hand, distantly fearful that you’re not supposed to be eating here. You think being so close to Steve is worth the risk.

“Is this the day you were expecting to have?” Steve asks with a lopsided grin. He takes a big bite of his burger right after and gets mustard on the corner of his mouth.

“No,” you answer, giggling as he swipes the stain away with his tongue. “But not because it’s bad.”

“Hm?” he hums to egg you on. He’s got too much of a mouthful for anything else.

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, equally nonverbal as you chew on a handful of fry crumbs. You swipe your palms together to dispel the grains of salt. “I’m having more fun than I thought I would, actually.”

Steve scoffs in disbelief. “Spending time with me? Alone in a photo booth? That’s a good time to you?”

His tone makes you self-conscious. You feel a little shameful, like a child, because you don’t need much to be entertained. You get all warm with embarrassment, too. Being alone with Steve has always felt like climbing mountains — something short of an adrenaline rush that makes you think you could conquer the world. Maybe you’re too small in comparison to do the same for him.

“Yeah,” you shrug in an inaudible murmur. “I don’t know— I just… I like spending time with you, you know? I don’t really care what we’re doing.”

Steve’s chest swells. From a girl who too often keeps to herself, inherently nervous and incessantly frightened of being a burden, it’s more of a proclamation of love than he ever thought he’d get from you.

“Well, I’m glad we’re on the same page,” he confesses with a crooked pink grin, internally praying his cheeks aren’t as red hot as they feel.

He holds his half-eaten burger out towards you. You knock yours with his, clinking them together like champagne glasses. He takes another too big bite. You go to do the same but get a whiff of the sleeve of your sweater before you can.

“God, I smell like a teenage boy,” you groan, only half-playful. The nose-burning musk from the kid from before has seemingly stuck itself onto you. Like fruit and sage and wood and vanilla, every scent ever made combined.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything, but you definitely smell like bodyspray,” Steve affirms, scruffy cheeks jutted out from the burger in his mouth.

“I think I’ve been tainted,” you giggle, a quieter sound compared to his boyish laughter. “Thanks for saving me, by the way.”

You’re saying it to be nice, but you watch him get all shy about it when you take a bite of your sandwich. He shifts on the bench, like he suddenly can’t get comfortable. When he rubs his palms on his thighs, you can’t tell if it’s because of the salty fries or because they’re clammy.

“Yeah— I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to grab you like that,” he stammers with an apologetic twinkle in his eye and a gaze that can’t quite meet yours. “Just so you know. I was just trying to—”

“Save me?” you interject.

Steve smiles when he sees how softly you’re looking at him. He shrugs. “Well, I was gonna say ‘pull you from the line of fire,’ but sure.”

“It’s okay,” you repeat for perhaps the thousandth time that day. “I didn’t mind. It felt nice, actually— you have really warm hands.”

“That’s ‘cause yours are always ice cold.”

“Well, maybe that’s because you’re not holding them,” you blurt before you mean to.

You freeze mid-bite, eyes wide in distant horror as your blood runs cold. In a desperate attempt to break away from the awkwardness you caused, you muster a trembling smile. “I’m kidding,” you murmur, halfway hidden behind your burger.

You weren’t.

Steve knows this, too, so he smiles.

He’d been thinking about it all day, in truth — how he was gonna get to hold your hand without having to stick his foot in his mouth to ask you. Turns out, a series of unfortunate events and an impromptu date in a photo booth was all it took. And he’s grateful. For all of it.

“No, you weren’t,” he teases, fingers as warm as his smile when he wraps them around yours. He holds gently onto your hand — even though it makes eating a little harder, even though your fingers are cold, even though you tremble.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: fictober!

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adnauseum11 · 4 months

Text

Joint Task Force (John Price x Reader)

You're harbouring guilt and John makes you feel better.

It's still Valentine's Day here, and thus it seems like the correct time to post this. It is mostly smut, heavy dose of fluff.

longer than normal 2.3k words

CW: swearing, explicit sex

feedback welcome!

You aren’t proud of it, but John’s illness the other night scared you. You’re not as quick to needle him and more annoyed than usual when your friends have a go at him during Trivia night. John has a thick skin and manages to laugh it off better than you do, but your touchiness doesn’t go unnoticed. You have to work in the morning and John’s promised to drive you if you want to spend the night. You do, but you’re realizing now it was a trap.

“What was going on with you and your girls tonight? They do something to piss you off?” He’s asking you, blocking the only exit from the bathroom as he casually leans against the doorjamb. You turn wide eyes at him, slowing your brushing motions to spit into the sink. John has got you pinned with his deadly blue eyes, watching for clues.

“What do you mean?” You feign cluelessness.

“Love, you can pull that innocent and clueless bit on just about anybody else. What’s really going on? You don’t normally row with those two.”

You drop the act and pout for a moment before rinsing your mouth. When you’re finished you turn to face him, fisting your hands on your hips.

“I just didn’t like the way they were talking to you. You’re not an idiot just because you don’t have a Masters’ degree. They were being catty bitches.” You sniff, trying to be flip about it but anger bleeding into your tone all the same.

“Try again.” John extends an arm, catching your wrist and using it to reel you in to him, using his bigger body to keep you corralled in the bathroom. He’s clearly not buying what you are selling and knows you too well to turn you loose.

“Well, fine, maybe I should be a little nicer to you, too.” You snap and then press your lips together in frustration, knowing you’ve given yourself away and contradicted yourself with your delivery all in the same breath. Brilliant.

“This about the migraine the other night? I told you, I’m alright, love.” John’s soothing, but you’re still guilt wracked. You feel like an idiot, constantly figuring things out too late. The realization he’s been suffering alone was like ice water to your consciousness. Saying that out loud means admitting to being a shit friend, which means John deserves better. You’ve been spiralling internally for days.

John’s massaging up your arm, having worked out the quickest way to defuse you is to override your nervous system. It’s hard to stay anxious when your methodically being turned into jelly. His sharp blue eyes stay on your face though. It’s like he can sense there’s something else circling underneath your bluster and concern. When he gets to your shoulder he steps back, steering you out of the bathroom and over to bed. You let him, his warm, mollifying touch turning your energy from frenetic to something more malleable.

He's got you spread out on your belly on his bed before you can think of a reason to resist him, his big hands smoothing under the tank top you wear to bed, pressing into tight muscles with practised swipes. There’s an epic battle going on between the anxious tension locked into your muscles and John’s determination to figure out what you’re stewing over.

If there’s one thing John knows how to do, it’s extract answers from people that aren’t eager to give them up. He complains gently about your tank top getting in the way, that he could do this better if he could move more freely. You’re just on this side of ‘too relaxed to care’ by now and oblige him, letting him help you remove it over your head. He doubles down, long slow strokes pressing you into the mattress firmly, forcing little groans out of your lungs. You can vaguely hear him hum in satisfaction; your mind completely focused on his hands.

“Why do you think you need to be nicer to me? I think you’re pretty nice as it is darling.” John presses the issue, not stopping in his work, using the heels of his palms over your lower back. You can hear the smile in his voice and know instantly he’s thinking of the times you’ve put your mouth and hands all over him. You wonder if the flush that’s taking over your face and chest extends to your back and if John can see.

“Do you get migraines often?” You ask instead of answering and John is quiet for a moment. Your brain drifts as his hands seek out the knots along your spine.

“My nerves get confused sometimes. Been around a lot of explosions and gunfire, must have rattled something loose. Not usually as bad as it was the other day.” He jokes gently but he’s being truthful, giving you the answer you’re actually looking for.

“I hate that I didn’t... I didn’t even consider that, John.” You admit to the mattress, completely unable to even partially face him while you force the words past your lips. John’s silent but his hands continue to move, sparking hope that maybe he doesn’t agree with your internal assessment that you are, in fact, an awful selfish person.

You don’t even think when he hooks his fingers in the thick elastic of your sleep shorts, lifting your hips for him automatically as he shimmies them down. His strong hands grip your thigh, running his thumbs up the middle of your hamstring. You’re moaning before you can stop yourself, loud in the quiet of the room. The sensation of his thumbs pressing down firmly on the big muscle enough to make you weep.

“Like that, do you?” You can hear the smile in John’s voice again and he repeats the motion to the same effect.

“My god, that should be illegal.” You manage to slur out and John chuckles, switching to your other thigh. He makes his way down to your ankles and then back up before responding to you. He’s got handfuls of your ass before you know what’s happening.

“This should be illegal. I want a medal for managing to hold a conversation with this to contend with.”

You finally laugh, letting him break your sour mood. Your muscles are so relaxed they feel weighted but you feel lighter inside somehow, your affection for the man pinning you to the mattress only ever growing. When he rolls you onto your back, you’re too suffused with relaxed pleasure to feel self-conscious about being naked with the exception of a pair of panties.

You can see the warm smile stretched across John’s face, making his blue eyes twinkle. It’s reassuring, his solid warmth pinning you down. He leans over you, balancing his weight on an elbow by your head, bracketing you under him before he kisses you. The taste of him is familiar to you now, and a thread of desire begins to spool tighter, low in your belly. You suck on his tongue when he swipes it between your lips, garnering a groan from somewhere deep in his chest. His teeth rasp lightly over your bottom lip, making sparks fly at the back of your scalp and behind your eyelids. He breaks the kiss but only to continue to press kisses over your jaw, nuzzling at your sensitive earlobe before sucking on it gently.

John’s lips are hot, anchoring you in place as he explores down the sweep of your neck. His whiskers drag across your delicate skin, sending shivers down your spine and directly to your pussy. It makes all thought impossible, words nearly beyond your reach. Your fingers find his biceps, the hot press of his mouth dizzying.

John misreads your grip on his arms and pauses, looking down at you.

“Want me to stop?”

“What? No, don’t you dare.” Your breathy voice has a pleading quality that galvanises him, teeth rasping over your pulse point before swirling his hot tongue over the same spot. He’s shifting overtop of you, resting more of his weight on you. His hips snug against yours, his erection slotting against you like a hot brand. You’re suddenly desperate for movement, friction, and hook a leg over his hip, arching against his solid body. John won’t be rushed but knows what you want, and rolls his hips against yours in appeasement. The flash of pleasure stutters your mind and you moan, your leg tightening around his hip.

John’s palm settles on your breast, squeezing the soft flesh with tenderness, the hunger on his face at odds with his touch. Your fingers curl into his shirt, tugging it up and he obeys immediately, leaning back to tug it up between his shoulder blades and toss it. His hand resumes its exploration, his thumb circling your nipple as his hips rock, grinding against you. You’re certain he must be able to feel how wet he’s making you, the fabric trapped between your bodies damp beyond measure.

He bends, wrapping his mouth around the tight bud of your nipple, making you arch, desperate to get closer to the pull of his lips. Your fingers find their way to his hair, gripping the short strands as he groans his approval.

John’s hand has slid down your body and is tugging your panties down, leaning back to guide your leg down off his hip while he strips the last stitch of clothing from your body. You have to release him to let him work and you do so with a whimper, dropping your hands down over the hard planes of his body. You can only wonder at what John sees – flushed cheeks and wild hair, legs spread and eyes glassy with desire in the semi-darkness.

“Alright, love?” John asks, leaning over you to plant another searing kiss on your lips, returning to his place between your legs. You can feel him leaning, hear his bedside drawer and realize he’s getting a condom.

“Can I?” You ask breathlessly and if John’s surprised, he hides it well, the expression on his face pure mischievousness.

“Not if you want this to last more than a minute.”

Leave it to John to be sarcastic while he’s hard as a rock, with your legs wrapped around him.

He’s propped himself up on an elbow, the other hand wrapped around the base of his cock to guide himself into your body. The blunt head of his cock sinks in and you can’t help the answering moan that sounds suspiciously like his name. John curses, his hips flexing as he slides home, your head tossing on his pillows.

“Fuck me, you are gorgeous.” John groans, pressing his face into your throat, setting a steady pace with his hips as he moves over top you. Your fingers dig into the back of his shoulders, gripping his big muscles as he strokes into you, again and again. You can feel the coil of tension tightening in your belly, each rocking thrust just grazing your clit.

“John” You gasp, and you want to tell him to move just slightly, want to tell him where you need his touch but when his blue eyes meet yours a wave of emotion closes off your throat, leaving you panting helplessly. He hitches your thigh over his hip, grinding into you, understanding somehow anyways, making you moan wantonly. The sounds of your pleasure only drive him on, the slap of skin a counterpoint. Your hands slip off his shoulders, the heat between you making you both sweaty. Your nails rake down his side, tearing a groan out of his chest.

He shifts again, leaning back to slip his arm under your leg that isn’t hitched over his hip. The back of your knee slides into the crook of his elbow and the change in angle is enough to nudge you to the edge of orgasm. Your eyes go wide as you feel your body respond to John’s thrusts, your inner muscles low in your abdomen fluttering on the precipice. You can’t help but call his name again, needy and high pitched. You slip your hand between your bodies, stroking your clit and drawing John’s gaze. It doesn’t take long for you to fall apart.

He hunches over you, his rhythm breaking as your entire body clenches around him, a wailing cry rattling out of your throat. John’s hips stutter as your body clutches at him, his thrusts turning shallow as his orgasm slams through him.

You spend the next few moments panting, John's forehead resting on your shoulder as he tries to catch his breath.

“Sorry sweetheart –“

His voice is ragged, rumbling against you.

“god John, why are you sorry for making me cum like that?” Your eyes are drifting shut, every muscle in your body feeling like lead after the massage and then orgasm. You are certain your brain is partially liquified.

“mm, was going to make it last longer.” He murmurs into your ear, making your back arch and your nipples tighten all over again. You force your eyes open to look at him and the tenderness on his face makes your throat close again.

You make a small noise and grip at the thick muscles of his shoulders, which he seems to understand and kisses you repeatedly. He pulls out, disposing of the condom and brings you a water on his way back to the bed.

You haven’t found the energy to move an inch so John rolls you onto your side, spooning you tightly. You clutch at the arm he slings around you. Sleep drags you under, still tightly gripping John’s hand.

Taglist:

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#fanfic #call of duty #captain john price #john price x reader #john price cod #john price x f!reader #john price x female reader #captain price #fluff and smut #this work has smut #guilty conscience #safe sex #sex positive

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janaispunk · 6 months

Text

takes one to know one

another extra from the dress series universe, but can be read as a stand-alone!

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

word count: ~3.3k

summary: “Not a sound,” a deep voice snarls into your ear. A familiar voice. You turn your head ever so slightly to make out his face over your shoulder, your wide gaze meeting his, the brown eyes that you know so well almost black as he drinks you in. You whimper against his palm and he smirks.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (18+ only!), consensual non-consent (it’s not explicitly mentioned but they have a safeword), Dave breaks into reader’s place and chases her, dom/sub dynamics, dom!Dave, sub!reader, degradation kink, knife play, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected p in v (reader is on birth control), rough sex, slapping, spitting, choking, established relationship, hints of fluff because i can’t help myself, able-bodied reader, Dave pulls her hair, as always: let me know if i missed anything please <3

i want to make it very clear that cnc has been discussed between the both of them before and that reader is consenting throughout the entire scene that i’ve written here. still, check the tags and if this kind of content upsets you, please don’t read it 🤍

a/n: I’m still struggling with the plot for the main series, but I was horny aaaaand that’s really all I can say for myself. Because I know of several people who have written or want to write about some variation of the ✨knife riding✨, let’s not open up some kind of plagiarism discourse about this, please <3 I got my inspiration from this post and I know others have too, and honestly, I’d read a thousand fics about that shit because it’s fucking hot, so to anyone who wants to write it: PLEASE DO IT

dividers by @/saradika-graphics <3

find my full masterlist here!

You’re sat on your couch, headphones over your ears, typing away on your laptop when a large hand wraps over your mouth, trapping the surprised scream that’s fighting its way up your throat. The headphones are roughly pulled away as you’re frozen in shock, your heart hammering in your chest.

“Not a sound,” a deep voice snarls into your ear. A familiar voice. You turn your head ever so slightly to make out his face over your shoulder, your wide gaze meeting his, the brown eyes that you know so well almost black as he drinks you in. You whimper against his palm and he smirks.

You hadn’t expected him for another few days and you sure as hell hadn’t expected this, but a twisted sensation of anxious excitement is thrumming through your veins.

Your eyes flit over his figure, taking in his dark clothes, more casual than you’re used to and a black cap that you’ve never seen on him before that accentuates his hard jawline and his dark eyes. A buzzing desire shoots through you before you can stop it. He quirks an eyebrow, seemingly amused by the reactions replaying on your face.

You take another breath, your brain running a mile a minute, clocking his hold on you that’s strong but not as strong as it could be and the door in your back that leads out of your apartment. Before you can overthink it, you twist out of his grasp, driving your elbow into his side sharply. His surprised and slightly pained intake of breath barely registers with you as you bolt for the door, your bare feet hitting your hardwood floor. You throw the door open and fly down the stairs as quick as your feet carry you, adrenaline pumping through your veins.

You’ve never played the scenario like this before, but the thought of him chasing after you, his dark figure hunting you down, and the things that he might do to you once he’s caught you, have you breathless with excitement.

You step out onto your street, which is thankfully almost empty in the early evening hours, and take off to one side without thinking. You don’t dare to turn around to check if you’re being followed before you dart into a small alley between two townhouses and press yourself against the wall, praying that he didn’t see and will pass you without noticing.

Your breath is coming in short pants and your gaze is glued to the street while you’re staying hidden in the shadows, determined not to miss him when he -hopefully- passes your hiding spot.

It feels like several minutes tick by, and while you can’t really be sure in your current nervous state, you start feeling anxious. You begin to creep towards the opening between the houses when a hand covers your face for the second time this night, the other hand wrapping around your wrist in an iron grip.

“Boo,” Dave whispers into your ear from behind you, making you jump, his body crowding you in as he spins you around to face him.

“Thought you could run away from me?” he smirks, his hand moving away from your mouth to possessively wrap around your neck. “Let’s get you back home, doll.”

He keeps a tight hold on your slightly trembling body, much tighter than before, and the adrenaline is slowly being replaced by more nervous excitement as he leads you back to your place, up the stairs until you’re standing in front of the door. He pulls the keys out and opens up, shoving you inside before he slams the door shut behind the both of you.

He holds your weary gaze while he locks the door, then he’s on you, pushing you against the wall, his hands clawing at your body, sliding under your shirt and tearing at the waistband of your leggings.

“P-please,” you whimper, pushing weakly at his hands.

“No,” he growls, capturing both of your wrists and holding them above your head while he glares down at you.

“You thought that was funny, huh?” He motions with his head towards the door, his voice an angry snarl. “Thought you were smart, that you could trick me?”

“N-no, please, I-” You shake your head, your voice thick with tears that are brimming in your eyes. He gathers both of your wrists in one hand, the other hand roughly slapping your cheek and causing your head to fly to the side.

“Shut up,” he spits, “I don’t want to hear another word from you, is that clear?”

Traces of real fear are coursing through your veins, but this is exactly how you wanted it to be, exactly how you had asked to be treated. Despite the fear, you feel wetness gathering between your thighs, and desire blooming in your whole body.

“Please,” you try again, not sure what you’re even begging for, just playing into the feeling of being completely at his mercy that you enjoy so much.

His hand hits your cheek again, twice in quick succession this time, and a whimpering moan escapes your mouth. “Not another word,” Dave repeats, his cold eyes boring into yours. He reaches for his belt and raises his hand a moment later, holding a knife that looks concerningly big, especially with how close it is to your face. He presses the blade against your throat and you freeze, your heartbeat loud in your ears and your eyes wide, your entire focus on him.

“Not another word, or you’ll regret it. Is that clear?” he asks again, his voice low and drenched in coldness. You manage the tiniest nod, scared to move against the blade that you can still feel on the delicate skin beneath your jaw.

“Good,” he grins, slotting his knee between your thighs and it takes everything in you not to grind down onto him. He removes the knife from your throat and presses his mouth onto your skin instead, his hands sliding under your shirt and groping at your tits while he sucks and bites on your neck with a roughness that is surely going to leave your skin sore for days. He kneads your breasts and pinches your nipples, sending jolts of equally pain and pleasure through your body. Your head is leaning back against the wall, your eyes pinched shut and high pitched whimpers falling from your lips.

He stops abruptly and gathers your face in his hand, squeezing your cheeks between his thumb and his fingers. “Stop complaining,” he snarls, “you think I can’t feel the way you’re soaking my pants right here?” His other hand cups your mound over your leggings, fingers digging into the drenched fabric and you can’t stop your moan, nor the way your hips buck to chase his touch when he pulls it away again.

“Desperate little slut, so fucking easy, just waiting around for someone to come and fuck you, weren’t you?” You try shaking your head and he tightens his hold on your face. “Don’t lie, sweetheart,” he says, his voice a cold whisper, “you love being treated like this. Love being put in your place. I think you should thank me.”

You give another small shake of your head and he lets go of your face to wrap his hand around your throat instead. His hold there tightens slowly and your eyes grow wider as he arches an eyebrow at you. You start feeling dizzy and your hand flies to his wrist, tugging desperately, but he just chuckles, squeezing your throat tighter. Desire burns between your legs as you’re gasping for breath, finally giving up on the defiance, like you both knew you would.

“Thank you,” you force out, almost choking on the words, and Dave grins triumphantly, loosening his grip on your throat.

“See,” he coos, leaning closer until you can feel his breath on your face, “that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He grabs your neck again and maneuvers you into your bedroom, where he orders you to strip, to show me what I came here for, doll, while he leans against your doorframe, watching your trembling form with a smirk in his face. You do as he says, pulling your shirt over your head and your leggings down your legs until you’re standing in front of him in nothing but your panties.

His eyes flit over your body, lingering on your breasts with an expression of hunger on his face, until they stop at your underwear. “Those too. Unless you’d rather have me cut them off?” The knife is back in his hand and he’s twirling it mindlessly. Your gaze follows the motion for a second, mesmerized by the casual ease with which he’s handling the weapon, until you remember his threat and hastily strip out of the panties, leaving yourself completely bare while he’s still fully dressed.

He stalks towards you, crowding you in and his fingers wander between your legs, swirling through the wetness at your entrance and making you gasp when he flicks your clit. “I knew it,” he grins smugly, “you’re so fucking wet for me. Like it or not, sweetheart, you love being treated like this. Best to just accept it.” He leans in to bite at your neck again, still playing with your clit while his other hand splays over your ass, causing you to flinch when the knife’s blade makes contact with your skin there. You’re helplessly turned on, so many sensations all over your body that you can barely process and you wrap your arms around his neck without thinking about it, just wanting him to give you more, to make you feel good the way you know he can.

“Good girl, there she is,” he whispers into your ear. Then he pulls back, stepping around you and throwing your naked body down onto the bed, looming over you, the knife still clutched in his hand. He straddles your thighs, smirks at you and pecks your lips, then he pulls back and drives the knife into the mattress beside you in one fluid motion, tearing through the material until only the handle is visible, sticking out of your bed.

A small scream had escaped your throat at the sudden motion and another slap lands on your face. “There,” he grins, the amusement clear on his face. “You so desperately want to have your cunt filled - use this.” Your stare flickers between him and the knife a couple of times, understanding slowly growing inside your mind.

“Y-you want me to ride? …T-this?”

Dave pets your cheek almost affectionately, then nods towards the handle. “Exactly. And you better get on with it, you don’t want to test my patience, do you?” You gulp and shake your head, wearily eyeing the intimidatingly large piece of black material that’s sticking out of your mattress. Dave clicks his tongue impatiently and you scramble to your knees, positioning yourself until you’re hovering over the knife.

Your insides are burning with the humiliation that he’s putting you through, but there’s also a twisted sense of excitement bubbling inside of you, knowing that no one but him would push you like this, which is why no one like him makes you feel like this. Your slick is dripping down your legs and you know that he can see it, with the way he’s watching you closely as you’re still hovering, anxiously biting your lip.

You look up at his face and despite the cold and cruel mask that he’s been wearing all evening, you can still see the fire in his eyes, making you feel warm, telling you that ultimately, despite everything, you’re safe with him and he wants you to enjoy yourself, will push you to enjoy yourself if necessary. He doesn’t say it, doesn’t take you out of the scene, but his voice is still clear in your head, speaking words that you’ve heard a hundred times. For me, sweetheart. I know you can.

You take a deep breath, your brows furrowing in concentration, and start sinking down. It’s an awkward angle at first and you need to adjust your position, but then the knife’s handle is pressing against your entrance. You gaze up at Dave again, whose eyes are trained on your pussy, watching eagerly as you sink down further. It feels strange, not unlike a toy, you think, but the shape isn’t exactly right and with a toy you wouldn’t be worried about cutting yourself with a wrong move. Your walls stretch around the foreign item and you gasp at the sensation, the feeling of finally being filled up giving you the sweet pleasure that you had been craving.

You begin moving your hips over the handle without further instruction from Dave, sliding up and down in careful motions, still aware of the sharp blade that’s currently buried in your bed, but sparks of pleasure are traveling up your spine nonetheless.

Dave reaches out to tweak your nipples again and you arch your back towards his touch, causing him to laugh. “That’s right, slut, fuck yourself on my knife. You’d do anything as long as that greedy pussy gets filled up, wouldn’t you?” You nod mindlessly, chasing your pleasure, the whole situation sending your arousal into overdrive.

Standing beside you, Dave finally pulls his dark sweater over his head, then opens his belt buckle. You eagerly drink in the sight of him, his broad chest and shoulders, his strong arms and his softer stomach, the smatter of dark hair disappearing beneath his waistband.

“Please,” you whisper, once again not certain what you’re even asking for, but you want more, more of him.

“Open your mouth,” Dave demands, leaning down to your level when you obey eagerly. He spits into your mouth, his saliva pooling on your tongue, the degrading but weirdly intimate motion making you moan desperately. “Keep it open,” he mutters as he pushes down his pants and underwear in one motion, your eyes flying to his cock before you can help yourself. He glides his hand along his length slowly, watching you while you’re still riding his knife, your combined saliva pooling in your open mouth and the desperate longing clear on your face.

He steps closer and taps the head of his cock on your tongue, eliciting another moan from you when you feel the familiar weight. “Yeah, need all your holes stuffed, one just isn’t enough, huh?” He doesn’t wait for an answer and thrusts into your mouth, holding your head steady as he presses his cock into your mouth until he’s nudging at your throat. You try your hardest not to gag and shudder in his grasp, tears spilling from your eyes and mixing with the spit that’s drooling out of your mouth.

He pulls back a little, letting you suck on him instead while you try to keep up your rhythm on the knife’s handle. “So good,” he groans, his hand curled in your hair, “taking me so fucking good.” He starts fucking your mouth again in quick thrusts and tweaks your nipples until you moan around him, the vibration causing his grip in your hair to tighten. “Think you can come like this?” he pants, “does riding my fucking knife while I’m fucking your throat turn you on that much?”

You nod as best as you can, pleadingly looking up at him. “Dirty fucking slut,” he snarls, landing another slap on your cheek that has you clenching almost painfully around the knife. “Go on then, touch yourself.” Your hand flies to your clit at his words, rubbing at the tight bundle of nerves and shuddering at the pleasure that’s thrumming through your veins. You come almost embarrassingly quick, the different forms of stimulation flooding your senses until you’re writhing on your knees, moaning around the cock in your throat as waves of pleasure roll through your body.

You faintly register Dave getting on the bed behind you and his hands on your shoulders. He pulls you off of the handle roughly and you fall back against his chest, still on your knees, barely keeping yourself upright. “Good fucking girl,” he coos into your ear as he pulls you into his body, his large hands pressing into your flesh. “You’re a quick learner. No need to get hurt when you’re obedient like this, see?” Then he pushes your head back down until you’re at eye level with the handle, still drenched in the wetness that your pussy has left behind. “Open up,” his cold voice demands from above you, underlining the order with a sharp slap to your ass when you don’t react quick enough. “Clean up your mess, make it all nice and shiny while I fuck this dirty little cunt.”

You feel a new wave of wetness between your legs at his words and obediently close your lips around the tip of the handle, moaning at the taste of yourself. “Just like that,” you hear Dave from behind you before his hand is in your hair again, pushing you down further. His other hand’s fingers are digging into your hip as he’s lining himself up and thrusting into you in one rough motion. Your scream at the sudden stretch gets muffled in your mouth and you hear his faint chuckle before he starts moving, setting a brutal pace right from the beginning that has you writhing, your hips stuttering with the force of his thrusts.

“That’s it, good girl, take it just like that,” Dave pants, his voice wrecked, “good fucking girl.” Getting praised while being in this degrading situation has your head spinning. You hear the wet squelch every time his cock presses inside of you, the smack of his flesh against his, the touch of his hands feeling so rough but so right on your body.

Dave is groaning behind you, sliding into you in hard thrusts that make your eyes roll back into your head and moving against your g-spot again and again. You feel yourself tightening up around him, more wetness seeping out of you until you can’t take it anymore. You tip over the edge, your whole body tensing up, shudders running through you as stars explode across your vision and your pussy clenches around his cock rhythmically.

You hear him swear behind you, his hips stilling and his hands pulling your body back against his chest, his cock pulsing deep inside of you and painting your walls with his release.

“So fucking good,” he murmurs and presses a gentle kiss against the soft skin under your ear. You nod, your mind still dazed but a tired smile growing on your face.

He gently pulls out of you and moves your body up the bed until your head is resting on the pillows. He cleans you up, peppering your entire face with kisses, muttering praises against your skin, replacing his demanding hands with soft, featherlight touches.

You watch with wide eyes as he carefully pulls the knife back out of your now ruined mattress and puts it down on your nightstand. The handle is still glistening with the remnants of your spit. Dave catches your eye and grins in that cocky way of his that almost makes you want him between your legs again immediately.

“Don’t worry. I’ll buy you a new one.” You smirk and stretch your arms out towards him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him down into a kiss, his lips softly moving against yours, the dominating persona all but blown away.

“You better,” you murmur against his mouth and his responding chuckle makes you smile.

tags: @amanitacowboy @planet-marz1 @catchallfangirl @joelscurls @reddedmiller @iamasaddie @guelyury @theywhowriteandknowthings @corazondebeskar @vabeachazn @mellymbee @bbyanarchist @untamedheart81 @missladym1981 @no1-nosesitter

i’m going to stop using a taglist, so if you want to get updated on my fics, please follow @janaispunknotifs and turn on notifications <3

if you liked this fic, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment, you’d really make me suuuuper happy! 🤍

#janas fics #the dress series #dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader #dave york fanfiction #dave york smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedrostories #the equalizer 2

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ang3lik · 1 year

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Ethan landry x fem!reader

Ethan has a crush on the reader but the reader doesn’t really know him and it is revealed through a game at a party.

𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞

#pairing:: ethan landry x fem!reader #w/c:: 1k. #a/n:: i haven’t proofread this because it’s been hard writing this past week and posting a fic each day, so any grammar or spelling errors, please let me know. hope you enjoy !

everyone sat in a circle at the fraternity party.

music blasting through the speakers filled your ears as the strong smell of alcohol filled your nostrils. the room was warm and loud as people danced and chatted. chad placed his empty beer bottle down on the floor in the middle of the circle, looking up mischievously as he spoke, “a simple game of spin the bottle.”

he smirked as he looked around, locking eyes quickly with ethan who glanced even faster at you. chad was the first to spin the bottle and luckily enough for him it landed on tara. anika giggled to herself quietly, tara gently slapping her arm as she leaned over the middle giving chad a small peck.

chad sat back in confusion hoping for more than just a small peck, but he’d keep trying. tara spun the bottle next, hers landing on quinn, as quinn stuck her hand out, wanting a kiss on the back of her hand. tara laughed lightly and she took hold of her hand licking the back of it as quinn shook her hand out in disgust.

everyone laughed out loud, as she wiped her hand on the material of her jeans, laughing mockingly as she spun the bottle. it landed on some random guy, she stood up walking over to him as she plopped down in his lap, immediately making out with him.

mindy rolled her eyes from where she sat making an ‘ugh’ sound as a boy sat across from her decided to spin. he landed on mindy who immediately looked up. “absolutely not.” she said, looking him up and down. you laughed under your breath as ethan also snickered across from you.

mindy blew a kiss to anika from where she sat, anika blowing one in turn as she spun. it landed on you as you smoked at each other, your lips puckered as you kissed your palm, blowing a kiss to her as she caught it in the air, placing it on her heart.

you leaned forward, spinning the bottle as you watched it turn quick. you were kind of anxious as to who it would land on, but the alcohol seeping through you calmed you slightly with a buzz. it stopped slowly as your head spun as you realised it landed on ethan.

everyone turned to look at him, his skin paling as his heartbeat quickened. he looked around at everyone before looking at you, waiting. he rose slightly into his knees, everyone watching on to see if he was really finally going to kiss you. you rose slightly too as you got closer to him.

feeling his warm breath on your face as you lord into his dark eyes, pupils blown wide. his big hands took hold of your face, tilting it to the right gently looking down at your lips before he connected them. your heart swooned as finally he was kissing you.

your lips moving in tandem with each other, breaking apart before pressing back onto each other quickly. the kiss lasted nearly a minute before you sat back abruptly. ethan left in the middle before he collapsed back into his ankles too, a love struck smile on his face.

chad patted his back gently as he swooned over the past moment looking back at you as anika was leaning into your side, a sickly sweet smile on her face, as a sweet smaller one matched on yours as you looked at him too. the game had ended but long after, mindy getting annoyed she kept getting random boys and everyone grew tired anyway.

as you stood up, grabbing your jacket getting ready to leave, a calloused hand grabbed hold of your wrist gently, turning around to where ethan stood.

“can we talk?” he asked. “sure,” you answered, fast, giving him a reassuring smile. “how about you walk me back to my dorm?” you spoke, holding your hand out for him to take. he took ahold of your hand, slotting together perfectly. you said your goodbyes as you left the house, walking down the road, before ethan spoke up.

“i like you.” you barely caught onto his words, he let them out so fast. “me too.” you said. he processed your words carefully, before you laughed, “i mean me too, as in i like you too.” you continued to laugh lightly as he watched you.

“you do?” he asked, sounding confused. you hummed in agreement with your previous statement.

“but you never told me.” he uttered. you laughed again, “you never asked.” he began to laugh at your words, realising this was probably just the tipsiness inside of you, making you giggle. he nodded along to your words too. it was true, he never did ask.

you neared closed to your dorm, before you murmured, “also, chad told mindy who told anika and of course she told me,” just loud enough for him to hear.

“oh! well that’s…” he cut himself off as he tried to find the right word. he stuffed his hands in his pockets, stumped. you reached your door as you learned back on it slightly. deciding on how you wanted the night to end you leaned forward, rising up on your toes, to reach his height, “i’d say that’s pretty good, because if i didn’t know, i wouldn’t get to do this.” you uttered, before kissing him the second time that night.

the kiss was a lot more comfortable, the pressure being under watchful eyes, no longer there, and your nerves were just replaced with a warmth. his tongue swiped over your lips lightly as you opened up, letting him in. his hands came out of his pockets landing on your hips, as believed to lean back on the door again.

you broke the kiss before he could get hotter. his breath coming out in uneven pants, his eyes still closed. as he opened them to look at you, you giggled again at how sweet but disheveled he looked. you pushed down the handle on your door, stepping inside before he could get hold of you, “goodnight, ethan.” you spoke, before closing the door gently, smiling bright to yourself.

he stood on the other side, standing there dumbfounded for about a minute, before touching his lips lightly, beginning to walk away from your door.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @astarborntowrite @liyahsocorro @anonoussy @gr4veyardg1rl

also this was literally ethan in the hallway outside your dorm:

and then he skipped home 🥰

#★ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 ★#scream #scream vi #scream 2023 #ethan landry #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x reader #jack champion #jack champion fluff #jack champion imagine #jack champion x reader #black!reader #latina!reader #asian!reader #plus size!reader

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sprite-writes-fanfic · 3 months

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Hello, I was wondering if you could do either 2003-2012 or bayverse headcanons or scenario with a crush reader that is emotionally a bit like Raphael? They are a bit more friendly than him and equally funny, kinda over independent on the “being taken care of” department, gets guilty and either lashes off or exclude themselves out of situations when they are anxious or feel overwhelmed by being “a problem”, doesn’t know how to lower their guard , neither believe they are worthy of someone’s heart, but deep inside they are affectionate and very loving (literally Raphael lol)

Hopefully this makes sense, if not (or if you don’t like the request) you can just ignore it

Thank you and have a good day / night

I will try my best anon! 🫡 Gonna do Bayverse because I feel like it would fit more for this scenario! (Also I fucking love the Bayverse turtles and I feel like I should start including them along with other turtle interpretations <3)

⚠️ Requests are closed, I am just putting out requests that I got before I closed them! Have 2 more to post out, posting another one today. Working on the other one currently as well. I will not do other requests until I’m off break, asks are still open though!

Lean On Me

🐢💙❤️Bayverse TMNT x Reader💜🧡🐢

Word Count: 692

CW: Gender neutral reader, referred mainly as ‘you’, probably not on-point with what anon wants but I tried my best TvT, sorry if this isn’t exactly what you asked for anon 🙏, fluff!

🐢💙Leonardo💙🐢

💙 You and Leo will probably bump heads quite a bit with this stubborn nature of ‘not needing help’. My dude will not stand for it, he will help and protect you, no if’s and’s or but’s. Anytime you try to exclude yourself, he’s joining you, doesn’t want you to feel alone ever.

💙 Anytime you lash out he just takes it. He literally fights with Raph all the time. Will let you cool down, give you much needed space, then ask you to meditate with him to help clear your mind of these negative emotions.

💙 Will sit down with you multiple times and have talks with you, each time finally getting closer and closer to how you feel. Has the patience of a god and will wait as long as he can, don’t test him he’ll wait as long as he can. When you finally open up about how you feel, he’s good at reassuring you that he’s doing this because he wants to and because he cares for you. Is sure to give you words of affirmation every day until you finally feel comfortable to bring your walls down with him. And trust me when I say he definitely mentally celebrates, many kisses were given the day you did.

🐢❤️Raphael❤️🐢

❤️ Raph gets it, he really does, you’re a little more friendlier than him, but when you lash out he sees himself in you. He goes to you a lot to help you talk, and sometimes in return he’ll talk to you too. Therapy for each other.

❤️ Probably the quickest of the brothers to work you through these issues. Again, he gets it because when he looks at you and how you act based on your emotions, he can only see himself, and he doesn’t want you to go through a lot of emotional pain he went through.

❤️ Big old cuddle bug with you, once both of your shells are broken through. Doesn’t really leave you alone often either so you don’t dwell on these negative thoughts and try to close yourself off again. Anxious thoughts can lead to overthinking and he knows that pretty well.

🐢💜Donatello💜🐢

💜 Donnie is a little awkward in the emotional department, (and I honestly say that for every Donnie, not always the best in the emotional-department), so he’s kinda having a hard time here. Doesn’t mean he isn’t trying though. He’s trying to give you the right words in order to help.

💜 But he does what he doesn’t usually do, listen. He’ll hear you out if you ever finally break down your walls, and he won’t interrupt because it’s important to him to know how you feel. He’ll work on solutions when you’re done.

💜 He really does care about you, but when it comes to being lashed out at or you trying to exclude yourself, it kinda catches him off guard. But he stays on it, he lives with Raph after all. Has pretty good patience with you and will keep that patience going for as long as he can push it. Overall, he does pretty well and has a lot of patience, and will put his gadgets to the side for you.

🐢🧡Michelangelo🧡🐢

🧡 Mikey’s happy that you’re more on the friendlier side at the very least, but he kinda flinches back at the times you lash out. But no worries, he’s persistent. Surprisingly goes for advice from his brothers and his father and actually listens.

🧡 Will approach you with this newfound information and tries to be as reassuring as possible with you, though please do forgive him when he messes up, he’s trying so hard for you. :(

🧡 Always by your side a lot of the time and is always reassuring, he’s getting you to do stuff with him to keep your mind off the ‘what if-’ not here honey, not gonna happen. He’s a lot of fun and with him it kinda makes your negative emotions and thoughts melt away before you're smiling and laughing with him. The day you finally cuddle and kiss him, I think he actually kinda starts to tear up. He’s proud of you, truly, and he’s happy that his Angelcakes is comfortable enough with him.

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halemerry · 10 months

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hii first of all, i absolutely love your metas on GO s2! your breakdown of the last few minutes of ep6 was really insightful and i love you for your meta about aziraphale and his role as a protector - it is a very astute look into his character and motivations which not a lot of people acknowledge in their theories/speculation after s2.

more to the point of this ask: this is something i've been mulling over and is the only thing that still doesn't make sense to me in ep6. why is crowley so nonchalant, or at least not noticeably worried, about the metatron showing up to the bookshop (a space he is very protective of) and taking aziraphala away for a talk after aziraphale has already been threatened by micheal? throughout the whole season crowley has been extremely protective over aziraphale and is very much aware of the real danger he is in (re: the book of life). this is also right after crowley has returned from heaven and has learned what the metatron was willing to do to gabriel to ensure 'institutional integrity' and that much bigger plans were afoot. i find it hard to wrap my head around his calm demeanor when the metatron enters the scene and takes aziraphale away, even if it's supposedly for a harmless talk. i wonder if you have any thoughts/speculation about this?

(opps this got too long and rambling). i would love to hear your thought but ofc please don't feel pressured to answer :) love your posts about the season and i look forward to reading more from you. have a lovely day!

Hi!! Thank you so much! This ask has had me by the throat basically since you sent it. It sort of touches on some things I already wanted to write about so forgive me if this spirals a bit.

So in a lot of ways I think this is a question that can have a one word answer. But since I do wanna talk about the way the show gives us this answer I actually want to start with Nina. Specifically I want to start with the thing she tells Crowley as Aziraphale’s off with the Metatron.

“You’re the hard bitten one that can’t trust anyone ever again and Mr. Wherever He Is is the soft one that still believes in magic people being basically good and all that."

I’ve talked a little bit about this line before in my meta about the build up to the Confession here because I think it’s important to view from the perspective of how it preps Crowley for the following conversation he’s about to have. But, aside from that, I think it's really important because it's wrong. Nina is describing herself here, not Crowley. She’s projecting her own issues onto him and Aziraphale in the way that she perceives herself relating to them. Crowley himself is actually the one that calls out her trust issues for what they are explicitly.

Nina doesn’t trust and she sees herself in Crowley far more than Aziraphale both in demeanor and aesthetic so she assumes he doesn’t trust either. But she has it backwards. Because Crowley isn’t hard bitten as much as someone who tries very hard to be perceived as such. And, most importantly in this specific context, Crowley actually trusts quite a bit.

And he nearly always has. Even as far as back as the Starmaker.

Just look at the way that the Starmaker and Aziraphale both talk about interacting with God. Aziraphale is nervous, anxious and pretty much immediately clocks that what the angel that would become Crowley is saying is going to get him into trouble. But the Starmaker? Even upset about the information he’s been given, he remains confident in the fact that it can’t hurt to ask a few questions. He trusts there to be no consequence for expressing an objection. He trusts that his opinion is valued. Even if he ends up wrong here there’s no inclination at all that he thinks his words will be taken inappropriately. And even the Fall itself doesn’t burn this out of him.

We see him trust Aziraphale, the cherub who was supposed to be guarding Eden from things like him, not to smite him on sight. And trusts him enough to not only have a conversation but express his own worries about his own actions. He then approaches Aziraphale like a friend at the Flood and makes no attempt to censor his horror at what is happening there.

Job is the first time we see Crowley act in a way that implies mistrust between them. This is the first time they’ve met since the Flood which I suspect is contributing to his reluctance to be honest with Aziraphale here. They fall into their roles and then very rapidly fall out of them. The fact Azriaphale reaches out to Crowley here is important. As is the moment where Crowley asks Aziraphale if he’s sure. After Aziraphale more or less agrees to be all in something changes. Crowley is surprisingly honest about his view on the world, mostly trusting Aziraphale not to use it against him. He places himself in front of a host of angels, trusting that Aziraphale would not expose him. And then later he’s even more honest, admitting to Aziraphale he’s lonely in an attempt to show solidarity.

The entire Arrangement could not exist without them trusting each other. Crowley’s pushing at Aziraphale’s boundaries is a constant exercise in trusting that Aziraphale will come around eventually - or that he at the very least isn’t about to weaponize the treacherous things Crowley is saying against him. As early as 1601 we see Aziraphale voicing active concern for Crowley's well being. We then see Crowley actively trust Aziraphale with both their safeties in 1941 - whether it’s trusting Azriaphale to save them from the bomb about to drop on them or trusting Aziraphale’s trust in him to not accidentally discorporate him during the bullet catch. They even explicitly talk about their mutual trust in this year during their shades of gray conversation.

During Armageddon Crowley shows up trusting that Aziraphale will help him fix this and once Aziraphale agrees never once seems to consider the idea that Aziraphale would hide anything from him (even when Aziraphale is actively doing so).

He also critically knows that Aziraphale tried to reach God and got himself discorporated as a consequence. And likely specifically knows that Aziraphale talked to the Metatron and came away from that conversation realizing that Heaven would not help him. It's worth noting whether Crowley knows this bit or not that in this conversation Aziraphale not only explicitly questions the Metatron's authority but also uses the conversation to extract information from the Metatron.

Aziraphale leaves this conversation with an active lie to the Metatron and attempts to call Crowley to tell him everything he knew. He then continually chooses Crowley over Heaven. They pick their own side and help stop the world from ending.

And then, all season, Aziraphale keeps proving that the trust Crowley has always had in him is well earned. Aziraphale, even more than Crowley himself, brings up ideas of 'us' and 'our side' and 'our car'.

Aziraphale openly talks negatively of Heaven. Not only does he agree with Crowley's disbelief that Heaven managed to stay in charge sending people like Muriel down, but he even goes a step further, implying that they perhaps never had control over earth in that way.

He also, most critically, immediately and without hesitation, tries to turn down the Metatron's offer to even have a conversation. Aziraphale, who has also just brought a group of archangels to order, reaffirms his lack of interest in Heaven right then and there in front of Crowley. Right when the Metatron has reaffirmed the threat of the Book of Life is out of play.

Crowley trusts Aziraphale. He always has. And more than ever lately Aziraphale has given him proof that he doesn't have to worry about where he allegiances lay.

But. It's also worth noting. I don't think Crowley is as chill as he maybe seems like he is. Yes, he's sprawled out and speaking casually here, but to some degree this is a bit of posturing. He's playing it cool and also not encroaching on the control Aziraphale has managed to wrangle on this situation. But he also doesn't just let them wander off either. As soon as they hit the door, Crowley is out of the chair and walking to the front of the shop to watch them leave through the window. He's keeping tabs as they walk away.

He then banishes Muriel and promptly starts to clean. Now I'm always a little wary to mix Book and Show canon, but I do think his cleaning of the bookshop (as well as him carrying around stacks of books while babysitting Jim) are manifestations of Book!Crowley's tendency to want to stress clean. He's keeping himself busy and gets done too quickly then promptly glances at his watch before throwing himself into the chair with a frustrated noise. He's anxious and stressed the entire time Aziraphale is out of his line of sight.

In other words, Crowley's not actually as calm as he's presenting himself to be. He's trying to take that nervous energy out in a way that doesn't conflict with giving Aziraphale agency. Because he trusts his angel. And that in part is why it hits him so hard when it all blows up in his face.

#good omens #crowley #good omens meta #good omens spoilers #gos2 spoilers #good omens season 2 #answers #oh yeah this got waaaay long #oops

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cerosin-bis · 4 months

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Nikto hcs pls? if theres some you got for scraps.

Of course.. Of COURSE it is my pleasure!! I do not stop thinking about Nikto like ever. First main hc post here (it's old but still relevant) and then many more in my nikto tags. the one about his youth is also relevant to my view of the character. Here are more Nikto headcanons:

He fidgets when he thinks. Not when he's anxious or upset (in that case he just stands like this 🧍‍♂️ he's perfectly still and it's terrifying. it means he's holding back.)

Very self-aware about the way he processes things, which allows him to plan out & avoid certain situations when needed.

Actually has a lot of self control in general, but if he indulges in one (1) thing - usually the thing is an unhealthy coping mechanism - then the dam breaks immediately. It's basically all or nothing.

Extremely funny when he wants, mostly because he can deliver anything with a perfect deadpan and has a *lot* of wit. It's not that hard to make him smile either, if one has the right type of humour - and in his squad, everyone does.

Doodles of him! i will post the full doodles of my friends' niktos one day. ok. My take on Nikto is that he got nerfed by life because bro literally had too much for him he was too huge too handsome.

a lil more under the cut about my face hc for him.

Features of my version of Nikto weren't actually really defined from the start save from the sad mohawk tbh. After drawing him semi-consistently for 3.5 years I can now list them and it's.

chemical burns, mostly limited to the middle and left side of his face + left shoulder - with a defined pattern on his face (that probably no one noticed because my lines are that messy 👍)

burnt/cut top part of his left ear

almost no eyebrows remaining. a few hairs on the right side.

very little facial hair

fairly big nose with the left nostril damaged like his upper lip is (prolongating his cleft lip sort of)

square jaw, with a slight underbite

stitch marks on some smaller, different scars mostly around the chin

a few cigarette burns under his chin/neck

#headcanons #my art #nikto #cod nikto #ask #nikto hcs

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pathetichimbos · 8 months

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Well, guys, a single person told me I should make this into a post, and so now you're all getting another fabulous take on Thomas Hewitt I've been looking for an excuse to talk about.

Question: 'Do you think realistically would it be hard to get into a relationship with Tommy?'

Short Answer: Yes! And no.

Ha, you really thought there'd be a short answer to this? No, let's dive in.

Thomas, on the surface, is a very awkward, to himself kind of guy. He doesn't like stepping out of his comfort zones, and he hates change. He thrives on strict routine, and isn't one to do something without being told. (ex: he doesn't take initiative at the slaughterhouse, he does exactly as he's told and doesn't stray from those rules)

He has an extremely strong sense of familial bond and ties to his family, he wouldn't betray them for anything, (and yes, that includes you too). It's a huge cultural things in small towns. It doesn't matter who your family is or what they've done. It's true ride or die mentality.

Considering these things, if you want to hope to have a relationship with him, you're gonna have to take up their lifestyle. Every part of it.

If you've ever been to an old southern woman's house, you know how insulting it is to refuse food. It's practically the same thing as spitting on their shoes and slapping them in the face. If you refuse a home cooked meal, especially when you're still considered a 'guest' in the house, you will end up on their bad side.

And Thomas is a Mama's boy, through and through, if his mother doesn't like you, he doesn't like you.

And that mentality is only doubled for the Hewitts. Their family has starved, and if you've ever struggled for food, you understand why they won't let it happen again. I could go into a whole in depth analysis on the Hewitt family and their cannibalism, but let's get back to Tommy.

Thomas doesn't trust people easily. It's in their family, in his blood. The Hewitts (especially after they start murdering people) are suspicious and unforgiving people. People will often assume that they became isolated after the town died out and everyone left, but in reality, they were isolated long before that, as Luda Mae, Hoyt, and even Monty (though much less than the other two) wouldn't tolerate Tommy's mistreatment and abuse.

And as for Thomas' personal distrust, I can almost guarantee there were several times people would pretend to be his friend or even go as far as 'asking him out' only to immediately burst into laughter and mock him the moment he got excited.

Now, he's much more closed off and distrusting of strangers kindness and friendliness.

...But, he's a huge romantic.

He absolutely loves the idea of having someone to love.

His favorite books Luda Mae would read to him as a child were the princess stories. He would dream of being the prince charming, saving the princess from the retched beast so they could get married and live happily ever after.

But, as he got older, he started believing he was better fit for the role of the filthy monster that never falls in love.

Packaging all this up into one neat present, you get a pretty clear idea of what kind of man Thomas is.

So, how does one actually end up in a relationship with him?

It's simple! In the most complicated way possible.

First, is actually meeting him in a none murderer-victim setting, because once you hit that area, there's really no going back. If he's told you're next, you're next.

He's going to be really suspicious of you, no matter what you do really. Even if you do become 'friends', he's a rather anxious man, and he's going to have doubts for a long time.

You're going to have to get on everyone's good side. Like I said before, he cares deeply about his family and their opinions, and being around them and accepted by them is a non-negotiable. And I don't just mean Luda Mae, I mean everyone, including Monty and Hoyt.

Speaking of Hoyt, that will have it's own ground rules as well.

Thomas, despite being a big hunk of a man who could easily toss around someone twice Hoyt's weight, is not the man of the house. Hoyt is like a father figure to him, and he looks up to him. Well, not in every way, but you get the picture.

He isn't going to take well to you bad-mouthing Hoyt. Of course, he doesn't care if you want to rant about the man's annoying presence sometimes, but it depends on how close the two of you are and what you're saying.

If you try to accuse the man of being abusive, or not caring about his family, Thomas isn't going to like it. Hoyt is a mean hothead, sure, and by today's standards, most people probably would consider him abusive to a certain extent, but this is a small southern town in the 1970s.

Hell, most of the 'abusive' traits Hoyt show are still practiced in small towns to this day, and are considered normal behavior. Again, I could go into a whole spiel about Hoyt's character and actions, but I'll get to the point.

If there is one thing true about Hoyt, it's that he cares about his family. Every action he takes is in their interest, and he'd put his life on the line to keep them safe, including Thomas. Hell, he protected Tommy as a kid just as much as Luda Mae did.

So, yea, really any bad talk about his family is going to get you on his bad side.

But, let's say that you follow these rules, and you mesh well with his family and him, how long will it take for Tommy to actually catch feelings for you?

...Pretty much almost immediately.

Thomas is reserved and untrusting, yes, but he catches crushes faster than a Tommy-hater can catch these hands. (for reference, that's really fast)

He's a sweetheart, and eager to be loved and accepted, so the irrational, romantic side of his brain eager hops on the Y/N train the moment you show him any real affection.

But as for actually loving you? That's going to take a really long time.

Luda Mae always raised him on the idea that love can't exist without trust, and he takes that to the extreme. He literally won't consider a relationship with you until he can completely trust you with his whole heart.

And once that trust is earned and the two of you become 'official', that's it. He's in it for life. In his eyes, you're the only one for him, and he takes that belief to heart. So it is extremely important that you only enter the relationship when you're 100% ready. He won't understand the concept of needing a 'break', or time apart. Once you're in it, you're in it, and if you ever leave, there's no coming back, and Thomas will leave your life entirely, with the rest of the Hewitts shunning you as a result.

Because of this, it's also important to remember that there really is no such thing as 'harmless' flirting with Thomas. He doesn't understand the concept of friendly flirting. He's either going to assume that you're mocking him or that you actually do have feelings for him.

Communication is a huge key with this man!!! He doesn't pick up well on hints or social cues. Be up front of and honest about you're feelings or he will have no idea how you really feel, and it'll only cause heartbreak and confusion in the long run.

...Well. Now that I've practically made a How-to Guide on romancing Thomas, I think I'll call it here. Good luck on attracting your local Hewitt boys. See y'all in the next one.

#thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt x y/n #thomas hewitt x s/o #slashers #slasher fandom #slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher x y/n #slasher x s/o

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jayjj7 · 4 months

Text

chapter 17. realization

prev. | next | masterlist

after receiving the news from haerin about your whereabouts, you get off the bed you’re on.

“shit!” the first step you take is into a bucket, your second step you take to try and balance yourself is supposed to be the floor but you step into another bucket knocking it over. this unbalance causes you to trip onto the floor with a loud crashing noise due to the…5..? buckets around the bed..?

you groan from the pain and that’s when you notice the throbbing headache you have but before you can get up from the floor, the door swings open.

“y/n?” danielle walks in with a first aid kit in hand. a panicked look is on her face as she expected you to be on her bed but instead are on the floor.

“oh my god y/n! are you okay? do you feel like throwing up? are you too hot? too cold? do you want-“ danielle rambles as she squats down to your height to help you lift yourself up from the floor. this is when you notice you’re not wearing your scrubs, you’re wearing a grey hoodie with black sweatpants. as hard as you try to remember, you don’t remember changing out of your scrubs. the last thing you can remember is being in danielle’s car.

“what? no dani i’m fine, seriously” you look up at danielle to see subtle eye bags on her face.

out of instinct you grab her face, tracing your thumb underneath her eye. “you didn’t sleep did you?”

“no i was so worried about you. come i made you breakfast” she brushes off the fact she didn’t sleep much last night way too quickly as she grabbed your hand to lead you out of her room.

danielle had served you some warm stew and scorching hot ginger tea. it was at this moment you realized how…orange…her hands were..?

“thank you dani i really appreciate it, you didn’t have to do all this really” you thank as you blow on your soup to cool it down.

“this is all my fault y/n i have to fix it” her voice is sad, probably exhausted because of how little sleep she got. danielle sits down next to you on her dinner table, tired, one arm is posted up supporting her head.

“no it’s not, don’t beat yourself up for that please” you look at her with a smile to try and cheer her up but her expression is serious.

danielle can only sigh, “i made a doctors appointment for you. it’s in a couple hours” she avoids eye contact, fidgeting with the zipper of her sweater.

“you what?” you drop your spoon in your soup.

“dani is hate the doctors” you whine, covering your face.

“but y/n, you’re a doctor?” danielle has genuine confusion painted on her face.

“but not for people!”

yes you’re veterinarian but you were always scared when you had your bi-yearly checkups at the doctors. ironic you became a vet knowing how anxious being near a hospital made you. there wasn’t anything that prompted you to be so scared of the doctors or anything, no bad experience as a kid, just a phobia.

so there you were: sitting in the waiting room, awaiting your name being called, danielle next to you, trying to call you down with pictures on her phone, explaining the story behind each picture. danielle’s almost motherly demeanor helped you ease up a bit, laughing quietly every once in a while. leaning your head on her shoulder and closing your eyes helped you feel grounded. that was until your name was called by a doctor who had walked out.

“y/n?” the doctor calls out after looking down at her clipboard.

suddenly your calm state was erased and anxiety filled your body as you froze. heat rising in your body, unsure if you should run away or not. thankfully danielle was there to assist you. she was the first to stand up and help you up by holding your hand and rubbing your back. she treated you as if you were unable to move properly but in reality you were just scared shitless.

as you and danielle walk up to the doctor to follow behind her, she interrupts.

“oh sorry only relatives are allowed to be let in with the patient” the doctor holds her hand hand in front of danielle as a ‘stop’ motion.

panicked at being left alone, you say the first thing to pop in your head to counter this obstacle.

“she’s my s-“

“i’m her wife” danielle smiles as she rubs your back.

“my mistake, come on in” the doctor instructs as she lets you both in. your face heating up as you follow the doctor into a room, danielle taking a hold of your hand.

taglist : [ @modanisgf @greenniee @milfcr @idkwhatim-doinghere101 @urwyf3 @flolio @imahallucination11 @pandafuriosa60 @kaypanaq @nnewjeansstuff @haerinkisser @brocoliisscared @starrynini05 @l-e-e-woso @kimminjiswife @herlv3r ] taglist is open !! comment to be added !

#danielle x reader #kpop #kpop smau #kpop x reader #kpop gg #newjeans x reader #newjeans smau #newjeans hyein #newjeans danielle #newjeans haerin #newjeans minji #newjeans hanni #newjeans

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rottingparts · 1 year

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Opportunity

[Mirage x Fem!Reader x Noah]

Summary: Given the opportunity, you'd definitely find out what it's like to be with a Cybertronian. Luckily for you, your crush happens to know a really cool one.

Warnings: SMUT! 18+! MINORS DNI! Being suspended in air, oral (fem receiving), Mirage standing there ominously as you make out with Noah, basically PWP

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This is written with she/her pronouns. I promise, I will post more than Mirage my brain is rotting right now it's horrendous. If y'all like this, I can definitely post a way, way spicier one later! Noah/Mirage is so phenomenal and I want to sandwich myself between them!! -Rot

You lied on your bed, eyes wide open and breathing heavily. You needed to calm down but Mirage plagued your mind. You were unsure on what his and Noah’s relationship was, just because of how flirty Mirage had been with you. He was also flirty with Noah. And Noah was… Noah.

Your eyes shut tight and the only thing you could think of was Mirage winking at you the day before. He winked at everyone, but… The way he winked at you specifically had you weak in the knees.

“C’mon,” You whispered to no one but yourself. You were at war with your own mind. You did have the biggest crush on Noah, then Mirage came barreling into your life. You were sure you liked the both of them, but Mirage just happened to give you more attention than your friend.

You could hear your phone ringing and you groaned. You were pulled from your woes and stood up grumbling. You hurried to the kitchen and picked up the phone. Your fingers played with the phone cord.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” Noah answered. Your heart jumped. “Can you come to the garage?”

Your eyes narrowed, looking dead ahead at the wall, “Why?”

“Just come on!” Mirage’s voice rang over the phone.

“Okay.”

They line clicked, he had hung up. You scrunched your face, wondering if that enthusiasm was going to come back to bite you in the ass. You ignored that feeling and hurriedly got dressed. It was close to midnight and you weren’t even questioning why your friend and his potential boyfriend had invited you to a garage.

You had never walked so fast in your life. But once you reached the garage, you grew anxious. You raised your hand to knock and the door swung open. “Come in!” Mirage’s head was poking out. You hurried in when you heard Noah yell for Mirage to get his ass back inside.

“Do you mind locking that?” Mirage asked nonchalantly. You looked at him with wide eyes, prey caught in headlights. “Oh! Not in a weird way. We don't need anyone walking in and seeing me!”

You nodded slowly, turned and locked the door. When you turned back around Noah leaned against a toolbox and Mirage stood close to him. Mirage looked excited, chomping at the bit. You couldn’t tell if it made you more or less comfortable.

“Noah…” You swallowed hard, taking a small step further into the garage. “It’s kinda late, I’m assuming what you needed was important?”

“Oh,” Mirage smirked, “now you’re worried if it’s important. You seemed awfully excited to come down here when I asked you~”

“Mirage.” Noah nudged him. He looked back at you and his facial features softened, “Look, Mirage-”

“And Noah-”

“And me…” Noah looked ready to fight the Autobot. “We were wondering-” Noah suddenly seemed at a loss for words. Mirage nudged him and Noah looked up at him with an anger that was palpable.

“Buddy,” Mirage grew tired of the waiting, “Just ask-”

“I don’t want this to be weird!” If looks could kill, Mirage's spark would have stopped.

“Fine,” Mirage stepped away from Noah, and towards you. Noah’s face dropped and he was sent into overdrive, short circuiting it would seem. Mirage kneeled down once he reached you and smiled widely, “Noah and I wanna know how you feel about us?”

The sound of you gulping could be heard across the garage. “I don’t know- I mean, I don’t know what you two are, but I’m not judging. In fact,” You put your hands up, and you looked at Noah “I, too, would jump at the chance to have a Cybertronian, uh, significant other…” You ended it as a question. You did not want to assume what they were doing, but you needed to get the point across.

“That’s not what he meant-”

“Oh! You would?!” Mirage lit up, “How about two ‘significant others’?” He put air quotes around the end of the sentence. You could feel Noah cringing. “A Cybertronian and a human?” One his optic ridges rose and he inched closer to you.

“Mirage, what happened to being subtle?” Noah sighed.

“Like, you two?” You pointed at Noah and Mirage. “Because I’m assuming you don’t mean Bee-”

“No!” Mirage almost yelled. “No. Not Bee. Me! And him.” He pointed at Noah. You nodded and took everything in.

“You don’t have to.” Noah jumped in. “I don’t wanna ruin our friendship. And this is getting weird thanks to my car.” Noah did everything but roll his eyes. Mirage looked upset by Noah saying that. But looked back at you when you started to talk.

“Okay.”

Noah froze. Mirage threw his fist up and almost hit the ceiling. You snorted at the reaction. Noah stepped forward and gave you a confused and baffled look.

“Okay?” He cocked his head, “You’re okay with this?”

Your enthusiastic nod helped calm him, but he was still visibly confused. “Yeah!” You nodded again, a little faster, “I mean, I’ve liked you for awhile now, but never said anything because Mirage seemed to like you- And I couldn’t really tell if you liked me back-”

“You humans are so cute!” Mirage laughed at the sight before him, “Noah doesn’t shut up about you. Even if he has been inside of me, he still thinks about being inside-”

Noah almost screamed. “Mirage, shut it!” Mirage snorted and focused back on you. They were both focused on you. “What now?”

“We just see where it goes!” You smiled at the two of them, shrugging nonchalantly. “Do you mind if I stay here with the two of you, though? I don’t feel like sleeping now.”

“Of course,” Noah nodded, “I mean, I don’t mind. Please, feel free to stay.”

Noah, being your friend, already knew a good bit about you, but Mirage didn’t. So, you sat with them and told Mirage about yourself. Just the littlest of things seemed to intrigue him. He and Noah both looked at you with such fascination.

You locked eyes with Noah, and words stopped forming. Your heart fluttered and you blinked at him. You were going to ask him what he was doing but you didn’t get the chance. Noah pressed his lips to yours, his left hand gently cupping your face. Noah, without thinking, pulled back fast. You were stunned.

“Why’d you stop?” Your voice was soft, as if you were afraid of being caught. As if Mirage literally was not sitting there watching.

Noah’s eyes widened. He didn’t think this far ahead. Mirage grew antsy. “Kiss her again, or I’ll kiss her for you.”

Noah almost launched himself at you. Both of his hands cupped your face and his lips were on yours in seconds. You were almost knocked off the table you were sitting on. Noah’s lips were soft, and while he was excited to finally be kissing you, he wasn’t sloppy about it. You were eager for more, so your lips parted, letting his tongue slip in.

Without thinking, you opened your legs, and Noah scooted himself between your thighs. Your arms wrapped around his neck and the both of you were as close to each other as you could possibly be.

“I want to kiss (Y/N) too!” Mirage was bursting at the seams.

You remembered he was there as Noah pulled away from you. You looked at Mirage and back at Noah. “Are you both sure this is okay? I don’t wanna overstep-”

“Yes!” They both smiled. Mirage, crouching down in front of you, kept talking, “If you’re alright with it of course.”

You nodded at him. Mirage was inches from you now, your eyes half lidded and his optics watching you intently. “You can kiss me.” The words left your mouth and Mirage’s lips met yours. He was focused, his kiss was not as fervent as Noah’s, and was a lot more gentle. He knew he could not get reckless. He did not want to hurt you.

Your hands cupped the mech’s cool face and you ran your tongue across his bottom lip, effectively deepening the kiss. Mirage was making out with you and it was Noah’s turn to watch. He was growing impatient.

“Mirage, you aren’t even that gentle with me!”

Mirage pulled away from you and your hands fell to your sides, resting on the table. Noah looked at Mirage with furrowed brows and you smiled. Mirage rolled his optics and sighed, “I don’t want to hurt her…” Noah looked like he was about to argue, “Look, buddy,” Mirage started in on him, “You’ve been inside of me! We know each other! (Y/N) has yet to experience that, we are still getting to know each other-”

“Whatever-”

“Stop arguing, I’m not going anywhere, both of you have ample time to do whatever you want.”

That got their attention. “Whatever we want?”

“Well, yeah. I’ve liked Noah for a while, and I’ve never been with a Cybertronian before… So, really, I’m up for whatever. I’m curious as to… How this works.”

That was exactly everything they wanted to hear. The night was about to get better, for everyone involved.

-_-_-_-_-

Mirage had you in his servos, dangling above the ground. His grip was strong, you were not going anywhere without him being aware of it. His lips pressed to yours and you were a moaning mess.

Noah’s lips were pressed to your inner thigh giving gentle kisses up towards the heat between your legs. He was using Mirage holding you up to his advantage. His teeth scraped the soft skin and you whimpered.

You were naked in Mirage’s servos. Completely bare and vulnerable. And excited. Your breathing was ragged and your body was limp, letting both Noah and Mirage do whatever they wanted. You trusted them. Noah and Mirage both seemed very capable of whatever it was they were achieving. Your brain was too foggy to fully comprehend their plan. You were just along for the ride.

Noah’s lips met your folds and his tongue was quick to lick a stripe up your pussy. Your hips jerked slightly and you felt Noah smile against you. His hands were holding your hips, his fingers potentially bruising you. Mirage however, was not bruising you. He was being gentle and you almost wanted him to be a little more rough.

“So good,” Mirage pulled back and your head fell back, a soft moan falling from slightly parted lips. “So good for us,” Mirage praised you, causing you to squirm.

“Please,” You started to beg, “Noah,” Your hands grabbed for whatever they could hold and that was Mirage. “I wanna cum-”

Noah did not respond with any words, instead he smiled again and you felt a finger push inside of you as his tongue circled your clit. Mirage’s mouth collided with your neck and lied there, the feeling of being held in the air still a weird one to you. Your legs dangled, but only slightly, as Noah held on to them like a lifeline.

Once another finger pushed inside of you, your eyes were rolling. Noah knew what he was doing. You wished you had come to him sooner. The sound of him eating you out like his life depended on it was heard throughout the garage. You really, really hoped Reek was not coming back for the night.

Your body tensed, a knot forming in your stomach and your toes started to curl. A loud cry for Noah left your lips and your hips bucked. Noah kept on going. As you rode the wave of pleasure Noah started to slow down.

Once he pulled back from you, you were left a mess in Mirage’s grasp. He looked down at you, examining you closely. You looked up at Mirage through half lidded eyes and smiled, “What?”

“I need you to moan my name like that.”

“Hm,” You bit the inside of your lip, “you two aren’t done yet, are you? I have plenty of time to moan your name.” Your brows furrowed and you gave him a serious look.

“Not after that look we’re not.”

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