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steviewashere · 2 months

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It's Enough

Rating: General CW: Implied/Possible Depression Tags: Established Relationship, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, And Gets One, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Other Characters Mentioned, Bittersweet, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Cuddling

For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is showing up when someone doesn't ask."

💕—————💕

Eddie got a key for Steve’s house when they first started dating. Just something that Steve did as a gesture that said, “You’re part of my permanent fixture of people.” Which, thank God he got a key or else he wouldn’t be able to come check in on his lovely, lovely, lovely boyfriend.

Especially when said boyfriend seems to have gone dark on all the people in his life.

It started with Robin telling him that Steve no-called, no-showed his shift at Family Video. Strange, he had thought. Though, he’d heard that Steve’s done it a few times before. Once when he had a migraine and was vomiting so profusely that he was simply too exhausted to reach his phone. Another, his bat wounds were infected and he was laid up in the hospital. There was kind of recently where Steve just slept through the entire day, nightmares riddling him the night before. Eddie had been there for that day, had to calm Steve down when he realized he missed work, had even held him as he shook from the come down of another nightmare.

So Eddie thought it was a little odd, but not all that different from how Steve can be if given dire circumstances.

Though, then Dustin radios him. “Steve didn’t pick us up from school today. He promised he would, but I guess he couldn’t? I don’t know. I can’t get a hold of him.”

That made the hairs on Eddie’s neck and arms stand up. Because, Steve doesn’t do shit like that. It’s Eddie, usually, who forgets. But Steve? No way, Eddie had thought. Yet, no way turned to, Okay, maybe he did. Eddie made it his duty to pick all the party members up and drop them off at their respective houses.

However, that wasn’t the final straw to make Eddie go to Steve’s.

No, what crumbled his resolve was hearing Max on the radio. She didn’t go to school today. Her limbs aching in a way that made it impossible for her to move from bed. Dustin had told Eddie that. He’s even witnessed it, the poor girl. Her voice came through the radio, small and scared, “Steve?” But there wasn’t a response. “Steve, please, are you there? I—I had a dream about the—“ And her voice trapped in her throat, the cut off of a sob making itself apparent over the radio wave. She forgot to switch to a private channel. She’ll do that, now, apparently. It was mentioned in passing that the channel dial was hard for her to navigate without being able to see all that clearly. She was half-blind, for Pete’s sake.

Eddie comforted her through whatever nightmare shook her. The bats, he concluded. Because, though she wasn’t there to witness it, her mind filled in the blanks easy enough. Vicious, red, raw, bleeding images.

His hackles rose. He beelined for his van. He scurried his ass over to Steve’s house. Because, What the fuck is happening today? And more importantly, He needs me. Maybe that was a selfish thought. Though, maybe, it was a necessary thought.

He creeped through the foyer. Easily realizing that neither of Steve’s parents were home. Tiptoed his sneakers off by the front door. And called out, gentle yet as loud as he could, “Steve? Are you home?”

There wasn’t a response, which made Eddie’s stomach twist. He made his way up the stairs, coming to the cracked opening of Steve’s bedroom door. There was a lump on his bed, Steve’s body. But Eddie couldn’t really tell if he was alive or not, all things considered.

Coming to Steve’s bedside and crouching down, he noticed that Steve was awake. Wide-eyed, glistening, staring through to nothing. Eddie tried to bring a palm up to cup the side of Steve’s face, but that only made him flinch away from the touch. “Stevie?” Eddie hesitated. “Baby, are you alright?”

Steve whimpered in response. He curled farther into his blanket, hands white-knuckling on the edge, head burying itself into his pillow.

Eddie hushed gently. “It’s alright, sweetheart. It’s Eddie,” he tried to cajole. “Just came to check on ‘ya.” He settled down on his butt, criss-crossing on the carpet. Hands folding in his lap. HIs eyes still attentive on Steve.

“Bad day,” Steve muttered.

“That’s alright,” Eddie assured. “It’s okay to have a bad day. Why is—“ He hesitated momentarily. This probably wasn’t going to be a very comforting conversation to have. “Why is it a bad day, Steve?”

He shrugged. “Something’s…Something is missing,” Steve articulated, or at least attempted to. “Like…I don’t know. I don’t know, Eddie. I don’t know.” His voice produced a nasally quality, wet where it shouldn’t be. Getting worked up. “My chest hurts,” he quietly sobbed.

“Oh, honey,” Eddie cooed. He rose up onto his knees. Palms down on the edge of Steve’s mattress. “Can I—Are you okay with me—“

“Please,” Steve cried out. And the way it reached from within his chest made Eddie shudder. It clawed itself out of Steve. Almost bubbling and bursting to the surface. “Please, Eddie,” he had begun to plead, “Come here. I need—“

Eddie took no time at all. Chucking his jacket to the floor. Crawling under the duvet. Curling his body around Steve’s trembling back. He wrapped his arms around Steve’s sturdy torso, hands interlocking and squeezing against the subtle softness of his belly, fingers splaying against his naked skin. He pressed his forehead between Steve’s mole-dotted shoulder blades, brushing his lips over the moles within distance. Shutting his eyes against the shuddering breaths in front of him. Nosing at the top notches of Steve’s spine.

“I gotcha, love bug,” he whispered, “I gotcha and I ain’t going anywhere. Promise, baby. I promise.”

He knew that Steve didn’t like showing himself when he cried. But something about this was different, to its core, Eddie could tell. Something almost hollow and echoing to Steve. Something hungry and aching all at the same time. Eddie never wanted to let go.

Steve shifted in the hold. Turning over completely so that his head was tucked under Eddie’s chin, face burrowed in his chest, arms wrapping around Eddie—low near his hips. He was scrunching himself as to not take up the most amount of room. And Eddie hated it with a great passion. Hated it so much. But realized, in that moment, it was not worth the fight. That, in the throes of loving somebody like Steve, that things need to run their course.

Even as devastating as they are.

Eventually, when Steve calmed and went boneless yet hiccuping in Eddie’s hold, only then did Eddie pull away. Only slightly, as to not startle the stilted air between them. Only to peer a little, to look and gaze and cherish.

Before Steve could even open his mouth, Eddie murmured, “Don’t apologize. It’s alright, love bug. You’ll be okay. Can you…Are you okay to tell me what happened?”

Again, Steve shrugged. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “Just woke up feeling sticky and wrung out and…Empty, I don’t know. Tired.”

Eddie nodded. His eyes sunk in a little, going soft and sad in understanding. “Okay,” he muttered. And cuddled back in, as close as their bodies would let them. “Okay, Steve. That’s enough. ’T’s all I needed to hear, sweetheart.”

Steve sighed against him. His exhaustion noticeable, heavy and armored. Before he drifted, though, he murmured, “Thank you for coming over.”

“Thank you for letting me in,” Eddie responded. His palm slid over Steve’s naked, mottled back. Kissed the top of his head. And pushed himself in closer. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Steve could only muster as a whisper.

And that was enough.

💕—————💕

#stranger things #steddie #fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #mild hurt/comfort #steddielovemonth #day 13

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empress-simps · 1 year

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Danger Meter [2]

》Crash《

▪︎Pairings: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

▪︎Pronouns: She/Her (Fem! Reader)

▪︎Warnings: Language, also probably some inaccuracies

▪︎Genre: Soulmate Au! Angst and fluff

▪︎Synopsis: Your soulmate rarely seems to be out of the High risk zone according to your mark, which makes you worry. Oh well— you already know that the same goes for him.

Note: Thank you for the likes/reblogs/comment! I couldn't help myself so here is part 2!

》 Masterlist 》 Bradley's Masterlist

》 Previous 》 Next

"Crash watch yourself, there's a-"

It was probably your fault, you were to pre-occupied thinking about what happened last night that you processed Hangman's warnings a little too late.

"Shit! Birdstrike! Birdstrike!" You yelled, looking at your controls. "Left engine is on fire! Climbing!" Hangman looks at you, growing worried about you by the second. "Don't tell me she's gonna try to fucking save it." He mumbled, keeping a close eye on you.

You'd try to save the plane even though you're literally about to nosedive into the ground. Hence the callsign 'Crash'.

"Throttling back! Shutting off fuel on left engine, extinguishing fire!" You informed Maverick and Hangman. Maverick can only utter an 'Oh my god' while Hangman could do nothing but watch worriedly.

Bob felt like someone dumped an ice bucket on him as he and his fellow naval aviators listened to the radio to know what's happening on air. His insides were twisting as he wanted to do nothing but to hurl and cry.

Everyone semmed to still as they continued to listen to the radio. "Bird strike..?" Payback mumbled.

"I think I'm going to be sick." Bob uttered, he can feel his head spinning and his hands get sweaty. Pheonix shot a worried glance at him.

Rooster, who was sitting in one of the chairs looked at Bob. "Crash's your girl, Bob?" He tried to read Bob's expression. Coyote intervened, "I think now is not the right time for you to be asking that, man."

Roster nodded as he muttered out an apology to the Weapons System Officer who was intently listening to the radio. As Rooster further observe Bob, he realized two things: Bob deeply cares for you, which makes him think you know each other personally, or you're both romantically involved. And the other one is-

He sure hopes that you and Bob aren't a thing.

Rooster was pulled away from his thoughts, hearing your voice on the radio. He felt a pit forming on his stomach as you yelled, 'Right engine is out! It's still spinning-"

'Crash! You can't save it!' Hangman's voice was heard through the radio. All of them perked up, they never heard Hangman scared before. Not even once, and the fact that he was worried for another person— considering he's Hangman, he'll leave you out to dry.

Rooster's worry grew by the second for his fellow pilot. He ran his hand through his hair, an action Coyote noticed, and without fail he saw something he thinks that's hard to believe.

Rooster's mark was an angry shade of dark red.

Coyote was stunned, his eyes widening as he tried to process his thoughts over yours, hangman's and maverick's shouting over the radio.

"No fucking way.." He breathed out, aviators beside him thought he was talking about what's happening over the radio. Boy were they wrong.

'I can't control it! I'm going down! I'm going down!' Panic and terror laced in your voice, Rooster can feel his chest tightening as he looked down and laced his hands together, finally noticing something wrong with his mark.

The stripe was almost black.

It can't be, what's happening? He looked at it, and looked back to the radio. His head was racing different thoughts per minute. He felt his breathing got labored as he tries to calm himself.

"No.. no.." Bob mumbled, clearly distraught as Pheonix offered a comforting squeeze on his shoulder.

Right, you and Bob are probably soulmates. He needs to put that into consideration, maybe it's just a coincidence? But, having your soulmate's danger meter almost turn black is rare. He read about a study that found out people who's soulmates have a high risk job (i.e being in the military) are reported to be the one experiencing red and black marks.

You— a naval aviator who's about to crash, and him, who's mark is almost black.

'You can't save it! Eject eject!' They heard Maverick yell as Hangman told the same thing. 'Crash! don't you dare join your jet crash!'

'Eject eject eject!'

Taglist [Closed]: @auszimbo

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eveandtheturtles · 1 year

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Leo and the Dragon

I consider this a sequel to Donnie and the Mermaid story. Who knows maybe I'll think of Raph and Mikey meeting their own mythical creatures? A werewolf? A vampire? In fact... Send me which mythical creatures YOU think those two should meet! And I'll make it x Reader stories once I'll pick the winner lol. This can be either be read as platonic or romantic, I didn't have clear intentions for this lol. I just wanted to write it.

Rating: T

Pronounciation: Amoxtli - Ah-mohshtli

Tagging: @dilucsflame33 @madammuffins @turtle-babe83 @thelaundrybitch @pheradream-15 @scholastic-dragon @leosgirl82 @m1dnyt3-w0lf @tinkabelle19(anyone wants to be added to this list or removed hmu)

Enjoy

"911, What's your emergency?"

*sound of heavy, panicked breathing * * someone is running * "There- there were these people with guns- oh god-" * woman tries not to sob * "then there was this monster"

"Ma'am, please calm down. Where are you right now?"

"I- I don't know- we- we escaped-"

Donnie listened to the recording of a phone call taking careful notes. He then approached a map hanging from the wall. Taking some thumb tacks and red yarn he added new spots it connecting individual tracks together.

"Anything new?" Leo approached him.

"Well, we can definitely narrow down the area the creature appears." Donnie took a step back from the map.

The thumbtacks seemed to circle one particular part of New York. There were few odd spots but mostly concentrated within a couple city blocks.

"Alright, do we know anything else?"

"Nope, still just - dark, huge and razor sharp teeth and tail," Donnie pointed to the description notes.

"Doesn't help us prepare any better," Leo sighed.

"What it's worth - I noticed the crime rate in that area dropper by a lot," the purple terrapin added. "So, it might be friendly."

"Didn't someone literally lose an arm?" Leo pointed out

"Self defence?"

"If such that was an abuse of it."

"Tell this to Raph then," Donnie snorted.

Leo shook his head and decided not to argue.

"We'll patrol the area tomorrow and see if we can spot anything.

The patrol was becoming fruitless. They stopped a robbery and an attempt at mugging and Raph got smacked with a purse and scolded by an elder lady, which while funny wasn't the purpose. Donnie promised he had it all recorded, though.

Leo thought of calling it a night when suddenly Donnie's radio came through with the call they were waiting for. Racing through the rooftops of New York they tried to get there before it disappears.

They failed.

Nothing monstrous was in sight. Instead there was a girl was sitting on the steps leading to the back entrance of the building. She was a bright spot stark in the middle of a dark alley with bright feathers on top of her head and brilliant blue outfit. She seemed dazed.

"We should check on her. She might have seen something," Leo said.

"Yeah, just be careful or she might pull a purse of death at you," Mikey cackled and immediately got smacked up the head by Raph.

Donnie shook his head in disapproval but he was trying not to grin.

Leo rolled his eyes. "I'm going. You three try not to do something stupid," he said and smoothly landed in the alley before approaching the young woman.

She was a petite little thing. The tall headdress of yellow-red feathers covered the entire top of her head. Her long, straight hair were thick and jet black. Straight Roman nose, unibrow and sharp cheekbones gave her a distinct look with her light brown skin. On top of that there were multiple piercings on her face. A chain going from a septum to her ear, couple more in each eyebrow and at least 4 in her ear. There were multiple bracelets on both her arms, and anklets on her legs. All of it in silver. Leo wondered how this woman didn't get robbed blind in New York by now.

Her dress was two piece with a long woolen skirt and a poncho llike top. It was all blue and purple.

"Ma'am?" Leo tried carefully. "Hi."

Her head turned abruptly to him. "Oh, hello," she said slowly with heavy foreign accent. She paused. "You're a turtle," she stated.

He tried to chuckle awkwardly. "It's a costume."

She tilted her head. "Oh, I see, like for... Convention?"

"Yeah, something like that..." He shrugged. "Are you alright?"

She blinked at him again. "Oh, no, no I'm quite okay, actually, thank you for asking. Just... uh, deep in my thoughts, I guess?" She smiled a little.

"What about?" Leo said before he could think. The brothers were taught to deal with physical threats but... it wouldn't hurt to console a citizen. Especially one that was quite harmless and strangely calm.

"Just that things don't look how I imagined before coming here I guess," she said slowly.

"Where are you from?"

"M-" she stopped and quickly said. "I'm from Mexico."

"That's far from New York," he noted.

"Yeah, and much warmer. " She smiled. "People were kinder."

He smiled. "Right. Sounds like great place."

"Yeah, it was..." She got thoughtful again.

Leo cleared his throat. "Ma'am, can I ask you - have you seen anything strange here?" he finally got to the main question.

"I'm talking to a very tall turtle man, does it count?" She joked and he snorted.

"Beside the turtle part," he replied.

"No, I don't think so."

"Nothing... monstrous?"

"No, although I saw a man, he was being attacked by a group - they ran away though," she told him. "No monsters. Unless you count those humans."

Leo tried to figure out if she was lying but there were no changes in her demeanor.

"Would you like to sit down?" She scooted to the side of the steps. "You keep standing there."

"Thanks but I should get going.... My brothers are waiting for me..." He said looking back and up to the rooftop. He was sure his siblings were watching him very closely. "Unless... is this where you live?"

"No, not really?" She looked up at the building. "This is where I work. I have to walk back."

"If you want me and my brothers could escort you home?" He offered, ever so helpful.

"Thank you but I think I can manage. I don't really know you," she replied politely.

"Right... well, be careful," he said.

"Thank you, I will!"

It was only when Donnie asked him what the girl's name was Leo realized he forgot to ask... That earned him a lot of teasing.

"Well, well, well, Fearless. I knew Mikey gets brain dead around pretty girls but you?" Raph grinned and tsk. "Disappointed."

"Shut up, Raph," Leo grumbled as he tried to grab his snack from the kitchen cupboard.

"Wow, such scalding reply," Raph continued to tease.

"You know what would be funny? If she was our monster," Donnie threw in. He was sitting at the kitchen table working on his remote computer

"Yeah, how's your mermaid girlfriend?" Leo but back.

"She's not my girlfriend and she's somewhere around Brazil right now."

"How do you know?" Leo looked at him curiously.

"Tracker and waterproof phone," Donnie announced proudly and the others rolled their eyes.

"I am getting valuable data here, guys!" He tried to defend himself.

"Do you have anything on Leo's future bride?" Raph leaned in to Donnie.

"Yeah actually - the place you said she works at, it's a jewelry store. She indeed is an employee there. Her name is- and I am going to mispronounce it so hard - Amoxtli De Silva.She arrived to New York about a month ago. Two weeks before the monster became an issue."

They all gathered behind Donnie to look at her photo. Donnie pulled also her home address and other data.

"Raph have you heard anything on the streets?" Leo looked at his red clad brother.

"Well, you're not gonna like it," Raph huffed, his arms crossed. "The girls, runaways and the homeless, they aren't talking. They're all protecting it."

"Maybe it's like us?" Mikey piped in. "You know, protecting people."

"Yeah I'm with Mikey on this," Raph to surprise of everyon agreed. "What?"

"Alright." Leo sighed. "So when we find it, we're going to talk to it. And if it fights us, we'll deal with it."

He left his brothers and went to meditate. He needed to calm down from the day and clear his thoughts.

Most of them about the small human woman he met that day. There was just something about her that wouldn't let him rest.

The next night he let Donnie know to contact him immediately if anything popped up on the radar and went to meet Amoxtli again.

She wasn't on the doorstep again. He hesitated, wondering if he should knock on the backdoor but what then? What if her boss opens up or a coworker?

He wasn't allowed to reach a decision when the door open and he immediately ducked for cover.

It was Amoxtli. It must have been closing time already. She locked the door behind her the paused. She looked around, squinting at the shadows.

"If you wanted to drop by you could have just walked up front to the store," she said.

"How did you know it was me?" Leo dropped down from above.

"I didn't but not many people around here look like human shaped turtles," she gave him a small smile.

"Right," he smiled back. "So um, I realised I haven't introduced myself last time. I'm Leo, Leonardo."

"Hello Leo Leonardo," she repeated and he wasn't sure if she was making fun of him. Probably was but she looked so serious. "My name is Amoxtli." She nodded her head.

So that's how you pronounce that.

"So what were you doing up on the fire escapes?" She asked looking above to where he used to be.

"Ah." Leo also looked up. "I didn't know if you were going to be here tonight. So I kind of waited."

"That's kind of stalker like. Should I be worried?" She arched one eyebrow at him and he cleared his throat.

"I don't think so? I just- didn't want to go up front." He swayed on the balls of his feet.

"Because of your costume?" She tilted her head. Leo wondered if he really saw the feathers in her headdress move or was it the wind.

"Yeah."

"Why not take it off then? Surely couldn't be too hard if you got the help of your siblings," she pointed out.

"Well-"

"Is it because it's not a costume?"

Leo paused again and stared at her. The bluntness of the question just caught him off guard. He wasn't sure if he should deny it or come clean...

"It's alright, I didn't think it was a costume from the start," she reassured him seeing his internal conflict.

"Oh." What was up with him?

She wasn't exactly waiting for him to unfreeze his brain. "Well, I need to go back home. It was nice to meet you Leo." She walked down the stairs and passed him by to leave the alleyway.

"Wait. I need to ask you something," he said suddenly. "Are you the snake monster?" He blurted out.

She turned around to look at him. "I don't think you should be quite using the word 'monster' like that." She stood straight and proud at the full height of her 5 feet. Chin up and deep frown marked her features. She was going to fight him if provoked.

The glare of her froze him. It was hilarious probably to someone on the sight. Him a 6 foot 2 inches terrified. of this tiny person.

Something told him it wasn't the wind that made her feathers stand up on attention. His instincts screamed: "DANGER! RUN RUN!". But he stood his ground. He raised his hands up in a gesture of 'I mean no harm'.

"I just want to talk."

"You have a funny way of stating that," she pointed out. She sighed and looked ahead of herself thinking. "I have been told I jump to conclusion too quickly." Her feathers laid down, her shoulders relaxed a little and her frown smoothed out. "Talk."

Leo took a breath in. "If you don't mind asking - what are you?"

"A dragon," she replied bluntly.

Well, he did not expect that. He shifted his weight, trying to process that news. Honestly, after Donnie's mermaid he shouldn't be surprised. A dragon.

"Alright. Uh, why are you attacking people?"

"I'm not attacking them," she huffed. "I'm protecting them. Not my fault they get terrified of me indiscriminately."

Leo nodded. Yeah, well. That was sometimes a reactiong to him and his brothers. He then groned and realized something. Mikey and Raph were right. They were going to hold that over his head for weeks.

"What?" Amoxtli tilted her head confused.

"Nothing, just... my brothers will make fun of me."

"Why?" Her confusion only deepend.

"Never mind that," he huffed and put his hands on his hips. He took a breath in. "Okay, so if I don't ask you this my brother, Donnie, might not forgive me - can you show me how you look as a dragon? I assume this isn't your normal look."

Amoxtli nodded her head once. "Very well. Just to clarify I can't show you my full form. It's gonna be a halfway one."

"Why?"

She gestured to the buildings around them. "I won't fit."

"Oh."

Then the air rippled around her. A sudden wave of electrostatic energy reached him and his gut once more told him to haul ass out of there. Amoxtli began to change. The blue dress clung to her form and began to stretched then shift into shimmering blue scales. The black hair began to shrink and change colour to match that of her feathers, those on the other hand began to grown down her neck and back. Nails turned to claws and a pair of giant wings sprouded from her back as her body grew to 6 then 7, 10, 13... it kept growing. Legs became a thick tail of a snake. When it all stopped Amoxtli became a briliant winged serpent. Her hands had sharp claws, human features were replaced by those of a reptile. A forked tongue sprang forward tasting the air. Her black eyes were now yellow. Leo didn't know how big she was in the end. The total lenght of her body was probably around 30 feet, while she stood at maybe 10 or so. She towered over him and his own turtle brain screamed at him that this was a predator in front of him.

If Donnie was there with him he'd tell him that judging by the markings on her body Amoxtli was probably a pit viper.

She leaned down on, resting on one hand. "Does this satisfy your curiosity, Leonardo?"

He realized his mouth was hanging open as he took the full sight of her. A mid form. He dared not to think how big she was going to turn on full sized.

Suddenly there was a movement at the mouth of the alley. "What the-?" A gasp and- "Leo!"

Leo looked behind Amoxtli who also got alarmed and in a snap returned to her human form with a loud pop, brushing down her dress. Then there was a woman standing between her Leo.

"You are not taking her mister!" The woman announced.

"Satine... Hi," Leo waved recognizing one of the streetwalkers.

"Hi Satine," Amoxtli said from behind Satine's back, her head poking over the woman's shoulder. "We were just talking."

"Were you now?" Satine glared at Leo. "Raphie told me they were looking for you. Didn't sound too friendly."

"Satine where did you g-" Suddenly now three other women joined them. "Hey! What's goin on here?!"

Now Leo had to explain himself to the newcomers. Something he didn't miss was the watery smile of gratitude that bloomed on Amoxtli's face. Hugs were shared all around among the women. When it was established that no, Leo wasn't going to bring the little dragon to justice they have been left alone with warning looks towards him. He in turn reminded them to stay safe and let him or his brother know if they needed help.

"He's good guy, just too kin on that whole superhero gig if you ask me," Satine told Amoxtli before she left. "Though I don't know you might be into it, Miss Justice Prevails." She winked and followed her friends.

Amoxtli shook her head. "Thank you," she sniffled a little with a wobbly smile.

"They really like you," he noted smiling himself.

"Yeah," she wiped her tears. "It's nice to know..." She looked at Leo. "Do you want to fly up? I need more space than here."

"Fly?"

"Yes."

"Okay...?"

She smiled. "Can I wrap my arms around you?"

He nodded. So she did that, wrapped her arms in his middle. The wings sprouted from her back again and with one, two, three, the wings beat the air. Amoxtli clung so tightly to him looking up, Leo was almost blushing. Could she even lift him up like th-

They shot up in the sky before he could finish that thought. His stomach felt incredibly light and the air caught in his throat. He remembered the time when he and his brothers jumped off of the plane but this time he was secure with this tiny woman holding him safely like he weighted nothing. He looked down at the city below them. They slowly were landing on a rooftop. An idea sprouted into his mind. He would save it for later.

"What would you like to know?" She asked him once they were safely on solid ground. Or concret. She sat on the edge of the building.

That was an excellent question. He wanted to know so much.

"I have a list," he said to which she chuckled.

"I'm sure you do, a lot of people do. So how about I tell you some things and you can ask me something that catches your attention?"

That was agreeable. He nodded. She took a deep breath in.

"I'm part of Silver dragon clan. There are many clans with different types of dragons. Gold, Diamond, Jade. We're not evil like your stories suggest, we used to help people, live in beneficial for both relationship but... that changed. We had to, well, move to a side dimension in order to survive. I'm here because well... I want those days to be back. I want everyone to live in harmony but the longer I'm here the more... doubts I have." She hugged her arms. "Today... today gave me some hope when Satine and her friends defended me. Kindness still is alive."

"Last time me and my brothers were dealing with someone coming from another dimension some mad scientist created a black hole to do that," Leo recalled the Krang. "How did you do it?"

"Well, Royal families can open and close magical portals at will," she explained.

"Oh." Wait, what? "Royal family?"

"Yes, I'm a princess to my clan."

"A princess."

"Yes."

Holy shit. Leo stared at her.

"Is everything alright?" She asked him concerned.

"No, yeah, all is cool, I'm just... processing." He took a breath in. Was this how Casey felt meeting them first time? "Do you breathe fire?"

"No. I breathe light. Or how a friend of mine said - lazer breath."

"Okay then...." One last question. "Since you're a dragon, how old are you?"

"In human years? I'd be...."She thought for a moment, tapping her finger over her mouth. "About 694 I think."

694. "How old is that in dragon?" He hoped his voice wasn't as high as he thought it was.

"Roughly 21 sheds. I'm quite young for a dragon"

"I see." Indeed. "Last question - did you eat a guy?"

"I did not eat a human." She replied seriously.

"That's good..."

"In New York," she added and with one alarmed look he noted the amusement on her face. He snorted. Okay, she got him.

"Are we friends now?" She asked him.

"Yeah, we're friends now," he grinned and she beamed at him happily.

"Good, I love making friends!"

Bonus:

Leo: Can I ask you a favour?

Amoxtli: Yes, always

Some time later in the lair.

Leo: Are you filming this?

Donnie: Is the 14th Pi decimal 9?

Leo...

D: Yes, I am filming this.

Raph: PUT ME DOWN YOU CRAZY WOMAN!

Amoxtli, innocently holding Raph above her head under his shell with one hand: * waves happily *

Mikey: can I go next?! :D

A/N: LOL sorry if this was a bit of a mess. Amoxtli is an old OC of mine. Here's some art done by my friends!

Amoxtli portrait as human (the one with feathers lol) and Amoxtli half dragon form (sans wings) done by Jajna my amazing friend!

How I imagine she'd look like full dragon - just an art I found online, unrelated

Bonus: Amoxtli as Centaur Kirin done by my other friend KTCalamity! (I think it's my favourite look of hers with closest oh how I think she'd look like the human part? lol)

#tmnt leonardo #tmnt bayverse #bayverse turtles #bayverse leonardo #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt 2016 #eve scribbles #tmnt 2014

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liminalpebble · 7 months

Text

Eddie's Education: Chapter 22

Minors DNI

Masterlist link

Chapter 22

As Leia set up the futon for Dustin, fluffing the pillows and smoothing out the fresh sheets, she glanced towards him where he was tucking in the other side. They both knew what Leia wanted to do, and how Eddie would take it.

When the three of them were settled again, sitting on the sofa, music omnipresent in the background, Leia spoke first without hesitation. “Eddie, I want to let Vecna reach me. You two can rotate a night watch, keep headphones on, and make sure that if things go south you can start the music and pull me out.”

Eddie stared at her, eyebrows peaked in concern, but not surprise. He almost whined, “Leia. Pleaseeee. NO. I can't let him get you. I can't let him hurt you. I'm gonna fail again and this time I'm gonna lose you.”

Dustin put a hand on Eddie's shoulder, which he shrugged off as if it burned him. Dustin took a breath and spoke. “Eddie, she's right that it's the best idea. If nothing else, it will keep him from killing the next person, and Leia can look for more clues about how to get to him...or how he's planning to get her to him. We can't go on just what we have.”

Eddie shook his head and rubbed his forehead a little too roughly. Leia came over to him, holding his hands away from his face to keep him from hurting himself. “Eddie, look at me,” she began quietly, as Dustin took his cue to let them talk alone, disappearing to the kitchen. Meeting Eddie's big dark frightened eyes almost shook her resolve...almost. But she knew what she had to do. “Eddie, please let me do this.”

He stroked her shoulder and said quietly, “Sweetheart, it's not my place to tell you what you can or can't do...ever. Just...I think we can be pretty certain he's gonna go for Sam next, and frankly that little piss stain isn't worth risking you.”

Dustin piped up from the kitchenette where he was pretending not to listen, and mumbled around the piece of sandwich in his mouth, “We can't be sure he can...gwwmm...get to Sam. His victims have to be close enough to Hawkins for him to reach them. And if he can't get Sam, who knows who he'll go after next.”

“Exactly,” she replied. “Aside from Ferguson or Sam, I don't really know anyone else he could reach who could be considered my 'enemies', which means he might resort to taking my friends...isolating me.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and huffed, “God, you're right. And usually I love it when you're right, but shit, not this time. Please...” he begged, and then kissed her deeply, squeezing her tightly as if that could keep her here and safe. “Be careful”.

They set up; Eddie and Dustin with their Walkmen and headphones, Leia in the pregnant, deafening silence that had descended around her. It felt surreal after days of constant soundtracks to keep the devil out. Now she was inviting him in.

---------

Sam and Molly had just exited the highway, busy and clogged with the Thanksgiving holiday traffic. Molly sighed with relief as she pulled onto the placid back roads announcing an eventual arrival to the little town of Hawkins, and not much else. It was a nice twilight drive in the middle of nowhere, she thought to herself; a plum-purple sky over rows and rows of rustling corn. She'd turned the radio off, hoping to talk with her boyfriend about his hometown and friends and family, but he was sound asleep in the passenger seat. She felt a little burn of bitterness about that, and couldn't quite articulate why, but it had been building; a loneliness worse than actually being alone.

-----------

Leia didn't expect that she could fall asleep as quickly as she did, considering the incredibly odd circumstances, but she was exhausted in a way she had never felt before and it didn't take long once she curled up in the bed she and Eddie had been sharing. He knelt beside her as she drifted off, stroked her cheek and kissed her forehead, whispering, “I love you sweetheart, my brave smart girl,” and she gave him a hazy little smile saying “be back soon, scoundrel”. Dustin and Eddie took their positions and waited, watched, and worried.

------

Vecna stood suspended in his gnarled tree of tentacles. The texture of his shriveled skin blended perfectly into his habitat. His eyes closed as he drank up power from the thick amniotic fluid of the upside-down, then let his mind traverse the psychic expanse of his kingdom. He slithered through many heads, hearing little flickers of internal dialogue, personal dramas played out between their ears, plans, concerns, deepest darkest desires. Henry swam through all those banal channels of other people's gray matter and scoffed to himself saying, Hmmm not interesting. Then, finally he found the mind he was searching for, a person he had been hunting and tracking since he saw him in Leia's thoughts. This he thought will be interesting. He smiled his dry lipless smile as he dove into Sam's mind.

-----

Sam Huxley was having a dream, but it was a real event; a memory. The trundle and traffic noises of their drive had steeped into his subconscious to make him remember another drive with another girlfriend.

“Fucking Christ, Leia, you can go faster. We need to be there in 10 minutes. You drive like an old lady.”

It was a torrential downpour and Leia's knuckles were white on the steering wheel of her beat up old Hyundai. She took a deep breath, stilling herself, not bothering to respond to his complaints. Instead she focused on the road, on managing the rickety brakes, and on trying desperately not to fishtail into the car in front of her. As Sam's verbal barrage slammed into her harder and harder and his voice rose, she felt the slip of the vehicle as it swerved beyond her control. Leia tried quietly and desperately to ease the brakes into working, but to no avail. The front end careened out, smashing into a telephone poll while the car behind her slammed into the back bumper. She was silent, he was raging, as they got out of the car.

But this was where the memory diverged from the dream. In reality, the man driving the other car ran out to check that everyone was okay. Sam remembered Leia saying over and over , unaware that her own lower lip was bleeding, “god, I'm so so sorry...the brakes just...I'm so sorry” as the man in the gray suit put a hand on her shoulder and said, “Hey...I know...it's alright, I think you need stitches. Is everyone okay in...”.

But that wasn't what was happening now. This time Sam left the car in the downpour to scream at Leia, whom he couldn't make out through the storm. The closer he got, the more he realized there was no Leia, there was no man in a business suit, just a tall looming silent shadow. The shadow came closer, slowly and deliberately, with no regard for the weather. When the gnarled monster with the corpse-gray eyes reached Sam, now inches from his face, he screamed but it wouldn't leave his throat. A large, clawed hand caged his head; red hair and flushed red skin making Sam's cranium look like a berry about to pop. A deep creaking voice said, “Oh Sam, I think you've done enough screaming in your life. Try to welcome the silence.”

---------

Leia's eyes moved behind her eyelids as she began to sink deeper into dreaming. Dustin watched carefully for signs of distress from her or Eddie. After a lot of convincing the younger guy had finally made Eddie lay down and sleep, curling up next to her. Dustin smiled and pulled a blanket over them both as he kept watch.

She was in a foggy kind of dreaming; the kind of nondescript and nonsensical thing that no one remembers upon waking. She walked, slowly and deliberately taking step after step through a misty expanse. Leia was lucid, aware that she was in a dream, and tried to focus on her goal of luring Vecna out. She felt a shiver run through her, feeling very precisely like a worm on a hook. Everything was too quiet, to vacant. He must be busy somewhere else, she thought with dread.

------

Sighing at the silence, and feeling sleepy, Molly finally gave up the idea of talking and flicked a cassette on. It was a Chopin sonata she would have to perform soon. She figured if she couldn't practice, this was the next best thing.

Sam woke with a bloodcurdling scream, making Molly jump and her heart race.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Sam!”

“Fuck...fucking...” Sam mumbled looking around, relieved to be back in the car and not facing an otherworldly monster exerting pressure on his skull. “Weird dream...shit. I have a headache.”

--------

Leia was beginning to pass from lucid dreaming, into a deeper strata of sleep. The mist was darker, more pillowy and encompassing and smooth. It smelled like Eddie; his leather jacket and detergent and the slight smoke of his Camels. She smiled and drifted, but then the darkness changed into a vast night. A vista arose through the pitch black in a spreading low glow. As she moved closer she saw an empty road, with nothing but two cars crumpled together and a telephone pole. Everything was silent as the hazard lights ticked away, bathing the darkness in fleeting vermilion blinks interrupting the eerie emptiness.

I've learned some fascinating things about you tonight, Leia.

She could feel the goosebumps crawl across her skin as she turned to face him. “That I got into a car accident? That's not exactly interesting. It happens to a lot of people.”

His shadow moved closer and as her vision cleared he morphed from a large sinewy thing into the human form she was more familiar with. She swallowed, nevertheless, trying to tamp down a visceral fear of him in any form. “True, but you, Leia, were devastated. This was the final straw of your confidence. This was where you crumpled into a shell of a person, just like that metal heap.”

“That's also not news to me, Henry. I know,” she said stepping closer to him, trying to seem braver than she felt. “You've been in my head. You know I spent most of my life feeling like a failure, a reject, not measuring up no matter what I did. So why does that interest you so much?”

He tilted his head, arctic eyes shooting into her like arrows. He reached out tracing the pad of his finger along the barely perceptible white line of a scar over her bottom lip. “Because I think this is why you could understand me, better than anyone else.”

He again placed his large, frigid hand against her forehead, and a flood of his memories rushed in; the pain of rejection by his family, the rage that followed, the living room of his family home strew with their bodies, the bloody scene at the Hawkins lab, his infernal untamable anger and frustration that no one could see the world his way. He was an apex predator destined to be red in tooth and claw; a force of nature forced into a sterile, white-walled cage, vivisected, used, and cataloged by a man with the audacity to call himself “Papa”. They took his name and gave him a number; 001.

Leia's eyes flicked open and she took in a deep breath. Henry was smiling that perfect, almost angelic smile at her. “See? This is what it made me...this,” he said as his human skin withered into vines and viscus scar tissues which swirled around the naked skull of his face. He grew taller, and his shadow draped over her, enveloping her. To her own surprise, and Venca's, Leia wasn't afraid.

“Why don't you cower from this?” he asked, with a deeper otherworldly voice.

“Because this isn't what scares me about you, Henry.” She reached up and placed her small warm hand gently on the withered muscle of his shoulder and said, “I'm sorry they hurt you so badly. They were monsters for what they did to you...to all of those children. But please, please don't hurt anyone else because of them. Don't let them control you as easily as if that tracking chip were still under your skin.”

He was silent a moment, corpse-like eyes fixed on her inscrutably as she refused to avert hers. “You're making a very clever play, dear girl, but I'm afraid any appeals to my humanity are useless. I'm not, nor have I ever really been, human. Listen to me,” he said as water rose around them, like a flash flood, pounding against asphalt and whipping up a tangy chemical scent of tar and petrichor, “I will destroy Sam, painfully, violently, intimately, and it will make you feel so soooo good to know he suffered and be rid of him. You'll fight the feeling of course, but it will be an irresistible pleasure to see the fall or your tormentor. You will know what I feel and it will grip you. You won't just surrender to me. Oh no, you will walk willingly right into my waiting arms.”

“I won't let you. I won't let you kill him. I hate him, but I'm not going to play god.”

His putrid face moved closer, as the strange waters splashed around her neck. When he spoke it was from mere inches away from her face. “Oh but I am, Leia. I am a god.” His hand clasped around her throat like a vice grip on her soft flesh. Vecna began to lean her back so her scalp stung as the cold waves met it. It was like some kind of strange Satanic baptism and she knew what was coming next. “Sweet dreams, sweet Leia. I'll visit my pet again when my work is complete. Now...deep breath.”

With that he dunked her under, holding her beneath the current as she sunk impossibly farther and farther down, swept off in the dark undertow.

@sunflowerdaydreamer @veemoon @sweetsigyn @hellfirenacht @little-wormwood @elegantkoalapaper

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x ofc #eddie munson #strangers things fanfic #strangers things

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buck1eys · 11 months

Text

Eddie comes round to fix Steve's fuse, and one thing leads to another with the help of a little music

One beer had led to another, and he'd been blissed out on the sofa with his Walkman on and Duran Duran playing on loop when the doorbell rang.

Steve started from his slump and looked at the clock. By the dim blue twilight coming in through the kitchen window, he could read the clock as just gone six. He crept over to the door and looked out. To his surprise, it was Eddie Munson, stood there with a toolbox.

“Hey, Eddie.” Steve opened the door. “What's up?”

“Harrington. Good to see you big guy. You want me to fix your fuse?”

“Oh, yeah, thanks man.” Steve hoped it wasn't too obvious that it Eddie had completely slipped his mind. It was too late to do anything about the beer cans now, so Steve waved him through.

His mother's manners kicked in like a reflex. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Sure, water's fine, or,” Steve heard Eddie chuckle. “You got another beer?”

Steve dug one out of the chest freezer. The girl who worked Thursday nights at the liquor store had had a crush on him for years. He came into the other room and saw Eddie playing with his Walkman.

Eddie pulled a face. “Carnival? Really?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I'll show you where the fuse box is.” Eddie wasn't listening. He was rummaging through the giant toolbox until, with a shout of triumph, he dug out a tape of his own. Then he took out an extremely battered boom box that must have been taking most of the space, and flashed Steve an evil grin.

“Consider this a night of education, Steve.”

The music was horrible, but Steve listened as politely as he could as Eddie took a bunch more tools out the box until he found the right screwdriver.

“My weapon,” he grinned, flourishing it. “So, Henderson says you've been dishing out life advice.”

“God that kid has a mouth on him.” Steve probably wouldn't have been so candid if he hadn't had pretty much the whole six pack, but his head hurt and he was still anxious as hell and, to be perfectly honest, the last thing he wanted was to make small talk with Eddie Munson right now.

To his surprise, Eddie seemed to appreciate his bad mood. “Tell me about it. That kid thinks he knows everything, and he's barely out of diapers.”

It was quite nice, it turned out, to talk about the kids to someone who just knew them as kids, not allies in an epic and frankly terrifying battle against supernatural forces of darkness. Eddie did the fusebox pretty quickly, but the conversation was still flowing and Steve gave him another beer. When the tape ran out, Eddie let Steve choose the next one.

It wasn't much of a choice, Steve hardly recognised any of the names, and in the end his choice was made for him as he picked the only one without a skull on it.

“Oh, shit, this one's Wayne's.” Eddie laughed over the rim of the can. “The Boss, not very metal of you Steve.”

“Maybe your uncle has better taste than you do.” Steve said. He hoped he was right, he knew the songs that got on the radio and liked them well enough, but so far Bruce Springsteen had just been background noise to Steve.

It was pretty good. It was really good. It was, quite possibly, the best thing Steve had ever heard, or maybe that was the beer talking. Still, the pummelling chorus of the first song, the anxious hush of the one about a girl called Candy, and the bleak fire of the final song stoked something in Steve's soul. When the A side ended with a click, the two of them sat in silence for a minute.

“Wayne like this album. Says it's like Bruce wrote it just for him.”

Steve nodded. He was worried he'd say something clumsy and break the moment. The uncomfortable fizz of nerves he normally felt when Eddie was around had been mellowed by the music and the beer into something almost enjoyable.

Eddie glanced at the clock. It was almost nine.

“Alright Steve, it's been real. Maybe Dustin was right, you're not so bad. I mean... a Harrington into Springsteen, who would have thought.”

Steve felt the sting of the comment, and the sadness that Eddie was leaving, and wondered why he cared.

“You can borrow the tape if you want. Second side's better, if you'd believe.”

“Are you sure?” Steve asked. “You've already fixed my fuse box.”

“Yeah, just drop it back when you come get Max. God knows Wayne's got every song the guy's ever written, you're basically doing me a favour.”

Steve pocketed the tape and followed Eddie to the door. It was very dark in the hallway, night had long since fallen. He wondered if the tape was Eddie's way of saying he wanted to see Steve again, and the thought made him bold.

“Thanks, I owe you one.”

“I suppose you do, king Steve.”

“What do I have to do to get you to stop calling me that.” There was something below the surface of his words. They were doing a familiar dance now.

Eddie's eyes were very wide in the darkness. He stepped closer, almost as if he were squaring up to Steve.

“You've got a way to go, your highness.”

Steve could smell him, cigarette smoke and denim and damp, and the peanut buttery smell of weed the clung to his hair. Eddie let the toolbox fall, and the electricity that had been bothering Steve all this time zipped up and hit him like a lightning strike. Everything was darkness. He put a hand on Eddie's chest and could feel his heart stumbling towards something.

And then Eddie kissed him.

It was soft and rough and bitter, the same action he'd done a hundred times with a hundred girls, but it had never felt as terrifying as this. Eddie kissed him, and Steve kissed him back. Then his brain caught up with his body and he panicked. Eddie gasped slightly as Steve pushed him away.

“What are you doing?”

“I...”

“Eddie?”

“Steve?” His voice sounded so goddamn hopeful. He stepped forwards again and tried to kiss Steve, but Steve pushed him away, harder this time. Eddie stumbled and hit the counter.

Steve put his hand out to steady him, already feeling a rush of guilt.

“Sorry man, I just... what just happened.”

“No. Don't worry, it's cool.” Eddie's whisper sounded a little hysterical. “I'm just gonna, I'm gonna go... okay?”

Steve nodded, as though he was talking to a caged animal. But as Eddie bent down and picked up the toolbox without taking his eyes of Steve, it was as though he thought it was Steve who might snap and break at any moment. Then he turned and fled down the fire escape with a clatter of boots.

Steve was left alone in the darkness, with his blood buzzing and a thousand questions on his lips.

from my fic a promised land

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington x eddie munson #*mp

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telltalebatman · 9 months

Note

post the frankie size queen essay

in form of a ficlet as im wating for my food delivery. nsfw btw

"So," Angelo asked her one day. "Mac Gargan, huh?"

"Ugh, don't start this again," she sighed as he laughed. "I've told you already. I'm sorry, okay? I didn't know he's coming to our wedding-"

"Franks, I couldn't be any less mad about not getting married to a girl if I tried. All things considered, it is a miracle it took pops this long to figure out I'm gay, and I never liked lavender to begin with. Nice touch with having lavender in your wedding bouquet, by the way," he added with a grin as she laughed. "Subtle."

"Yeah, I thought you'd like that," she said with a giggle. "I just saw they had this option and went - holy shit, Angel Boy's gonna love it."

"Well, I did love it. Buuuuuut... I didn't get you here just to reminisce about our failed wedding. Come on, Franks. I need to know - why him?" he asked finally, his dark eyes glimmering with curiosity; and Frankie bit her lip.

"Well, he does make me feel safe," she said slowly, wincing slightly as the irony of a guy who once kidnapped her making her feel safe was not entirely lost on her. "He's patient. Like, really patient."

"Uh-uh," Angelo said, rolling his eyes. "Fucking boooriiiiingggggg. I want to know the juicy stuff. Come on. How's your sex life?" he asked in his worst Tommy Wiseau voice; and Frankie groaned. Rationally, she knew this question was coming; and it wasn't the question she was dreading - it was the answer.

"I had never been fucked better in my entire life," she said with a deep sigh. "You know that club bouncer guy I told you about, the one that looks like Don Costa? He has a huge schlong, but can't use it. And Mackie... Holy shit, Angel Boy. Now I know what the Muppet puppets would feel if they ever came alive and felt the hand inside of them."

"Ew," Angelo said with a wide grin. "Gross. Keep going though."

"The first time he put it in I thought he's gonna poke my eye out from within," she continued, her cheeks flushing slightly as she thought back to their first time. "It felt so fucking good. I had never realized how much empty space I have inside of me until he fucked me. It was fucking unreal."

"Jesus, is that why you went radio silent for a week? Because he fucked you so good you forgot how to speak?"

"I didn't just forget how to speak, I forgot where I live," she said with a pained sigh as Angelo laughed. "And I thought to myself - great! Now that I've fucked him, he's out of my system. I can move on with my life now. But then I hooked up with another guy, and... It was just not the same. Nobody could fill me like he did. And it wasn't even a metaphorical, emotional void or anything. No, I mean it in the most literal, physical sense. He filled me up, alllllll the way. I then tried to, you know, get a dildo, but... Eh. It's just not the same, you know?"

"Yeah, I get that. An artificial dick up your ass is just not the same as the real thing," he said, nodding sagely. "Been there. Done that. Disinfected that afterwards."

"Yeah, I sure hope you disinfect your dildos. But anyway, that's how I figured out I'm physically incompatible with anyone whose dick I can wrap my fingers around. If it doesn't make me feel like I'm about to have to go to the ER, I don't want it. Apparently whenever we fuck, I look like I'm having a stroke and a heart attack at the same time, but he kinda likes it. He says it's hot when I can't even talk properly and he can really feel me."

"God, I am so glad we didn't end up married, our sex life would be so fucking bad for both of us. Me, I just can't top. You... Ugh, I can't even say it."

"Don't say it then. Just know that I do not think about you when I'm riding that Burj Khalifa of dicks. All I think about is how good it feels to my esophagus."

"Yeah, okay, Miss Piggy. What I hate the most about this conversation is that it's the same exact for me. And I love being a Muppet. I just wish dicks had fingers, you know? So they could wiggle them inside of me. That, I think, would ruin me completely."

"Oh god," Frankie breathed out, biting her bottom lip. "That would fucking rule. And also result in my eyeballs falling out for real, I'm pretty sure."

"Can the two of you shut the fuck up for five fucking minutes?" Mac asked tiredly from another room; Frankie and Angelo laughed in unison. They were having their weird little conversation in the living room of an apartment Frankie was renting together with Mac - who was trying to take a nap in the other room. Clearly that was not working out, and she hoped he had heard every single word. Because that'd mean a oh so you like it big, huh? kind of sex later on - and the only thing she liked more than his massive dick was when he made fun of her for not being able to string together a simple coherent sentence as he fucked her. "Please. Jesus."

"We'll be quiet now," Frankie said, kicking Angelo under the table. "Right, Angel Boy?"

"Yeah, as quiet as she gets when your dick pierces her intestines," Angelo replied in a sing-song voice; Mac groaned. Frankie laughed. For just a single afternoon, all was right in the world; and when the night fell, once again she forgot her own name.

ohmygodohmygodohgodohgodohgod

"You like it big, huh?" he said as she gasped loudly and grabbed the sheets as she tried to spread her legs even further. "Aww, look at yourself. Can't even talk," he added mockingly as she moaned and arched her back. "Hold still," he added, grabbing her by her waist as he fucked her. "Tell me how much you like it, or I'll stop."

"No," she moaned out, her thought slowing down to a crawl. "Pl... Please... Oh, god..."

In return, he only laughed; and she could feel his laughter, deep inside of herself. His every word, every chuckle echoed through herself; and she

fucking

loved it.

ohgodohgodohgodohgodIMCUMMING

"I barely even moved," he said mockingly as her eyes rolled back and barely any sound got out of her wide open mouth. "Aww, you're so precious. You don't even need friction, you just need to be filled up," he added; and she didn't protest. She didn't argue. Truth be told, she wasn't even sure what exactly was he saying in the first place; all that mattered were his hands around her waist, and his cock inside of her, and his beautiful body towering over her.

holy fucking shit.

he should fist me one day

#4.txt #sorcione #good for her honestly

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gaiuswrites · 3 years

Text

Ashore

Part one | Open Waters

Pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!Reader

Summary: You and Frankie leave the beach with only one thing on your minds.

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 3.6k~

Warnings/tags: smut, ✨butt stuff✨, oral (f receiving), some lovey-dovey shit

Notes: Here we are friends. You don’t necessarily have to read Open Waters to understand the contents of this chapter (considering it’s mostly just booty bumpin’). You can thank heathens @javierpcna and @whataperfectwasteoftime for the debauchery to follow. It’s been a while since I’ve written and I’m genuinely nervous to post this lol but alas. We have arrived. Is it shit? Is it pure filth? Who’s to say hehehe. Cheers bebes x

Masterlist | read it on ao3!

The worst part was, you had to get gas.

Frankie drives. You sit beside him.

The return trip is hushed with anticipation—with sullied stain-glass imagery occupying the void. You've said next to nothing since you packed into the car; the only noise comes from the radio—the preset station phasing in and out as you wind along the backroads leading away from the shore—Journey, Jimi, Led Zep and the like all crackling dry through the speakers.

Everything, each micro-movement, feels stifling— like burning ants under a magnifying glass— each gesture riddled with intention, Frankie’s words echoing clear in the caverns of your mind.

He glances left right at an intersection.

‘Anything?’

He flips on the turn signal, blinking one two one two one two.

‘You gonna let me have your tight little ass?’

He steers the wheel with the heel of his palm.

‘When I cum, it’s gonna be here—filling you up.’

The engine rumbles as you idle at a red light—stalling. Dawdling. The sun spills lazily from the horizon, draining the last of the afternoon’s light with it, bleeding the sky scarlet—emboldening the horizon— and you watch as the setting glow catches the hair on his arm—there, resting on the console between you. His hand fists over the gear, knuckles creasing as they tense around the worn, leathered head. You’re playing a game—a silent, ruleless game. You know he can sense you observing him, can feel the heat of your gaze weigh on the flex of his fingers—the same fingers that had ripped an orgasm out of you not two hours before.

You almost unbuckle your damn seatbelt and fly out of your chair. You nearly break with it, with the unspoken tension filling the car like gas and fuck, how you crave him; how you yearn to put those fingers in your mouth and suck—lave the summer clean off his digits and bob around the long width and—

The light turns green.

Frankie resumes his hand to the wheel, your lewd fantasy dissipating along with it.

It’s minuscule. You would have missed it save the fact that you’re so acutely aware of every fucking breath you two share in the aluminum confines of your old Jeep. It’s a subtle thing: Frankie adjusts his hips— innocent enough— but your eyes flicker over to find the groin of his drying swim trunks tented.

You’re not ashamed to say it— your mouth fucking waters, you salivate— and as if on cue, he squirms again, seeking relief from both the blood rushing south and the blister of your stare. His lips part— the rasp of an inhale as he prepares to speak—before his focus is torn down to the dashboard, an orange symbol popping up in the gauge stealing his attention.

“Shit,” Frankie mumbles under his breath. Looking around, he scans for a nearby station and groans at the realization that he’s just passed one, spotting it in the rearview mirror. “Shit.”

You swivel towards the passenger side window, attempting to hide the I told you so expression pulling wry at your mouth. Not that you’ll hang it over him, but you did inform Frankie that the tank was empty on the way to the beach. You hear another muffled curse come from the man beside you, and the world goes topsy-turvy and reverses itself— the act of Frankie making a grumbled U-turn.

He puts the gear into park with a huff, Van Halen’s solo abruptly cut short mid chord.

The car door opens with a rusty squeal and Frankie clambers out, fishing his wallet from his back pocket and swiping his card through the reader at the pump—but not before he squeezes a palm into the plush of your thigh, thumb searing like a brand into your skin. I’ll be quick.

Fuck, you could have cum right then.

Your gaze follows his movements, dogging after him as he waits on the gas to fill— arms folded across his chest, strong build leaning on the frame of your car.

It’s not a novel concept to you, but God is that man broad. The ratty t-shirt he wears clings to him, pulled taut between the plane of his shoulders, the cut of his tricep apparent even from your vantage point; the corded muscle running up his neck flashing as he watches the digital numbers on the screen tick higher.

Shit, you’re aching for him— you can feel yourself throb into the crotch of your swimsuit. You’d have him right here—in the backseat, steaming up the glass— if it weren’t for the overencumbered bags and rickety beach chairs crowding the space.

With herculean effort, you wrench your eyes off him in search of a distraction, letting them drift to the dark flooring of the car. It’s been dirtied—white flecks speckling the interior—and you won’t be able to get the sand out of the matted carpets for weeks. It’s a nuisance, to be sure, but you have to admit that you’re sort of fond of it; little memories, vestiges in the grains, lingering long after the season ends.

Hello, remember me? each granule chirped, remember when we laughed giddy for hours, maddened by the grace of the sun? Remember when we burned red that time we forgot sunscreen? Remember when we bought soft serve from the surf shack and it globbed sticky down our wrists? Remember when we when we when when when…

Frankie, ever practical, hates it. It’s a pain in the ass, he’s told you, regaling you with the woes only a mechanic would care to know. It ruins the upholstery.

You’ve had your exchanges about the topic—your faux-squabbled back and forths—and yet despite himself, he can’t help but like that you like it. Conceptually, he gets it—it annoys him to kingdom fucking come and he’ll almost certainly take the vacuum to the mats first thing tomorrow, but he understands. He understands it.

He understands you.

You’re like that, you and him. You’re different. You are made of different things, a compository of fractures and fragments. Mosaic tiles. You don’t quite fit—not all of you—but you never force the pieces into any sort of place. You admire each other’s mismatched bits, those sweetly quilted jigsaws, and you hold each one up to the light and point at the unique curves, the notches and swoops there, and say I love you, I love this, I love this too.

When Frankie keys up the ignition and puts the car in drive, he keeps his hand on your lap. Arm resting over the median dividing you, calloused palm sealing over your quad, his fingertips knead a pulse into the meat of your leg with each bump in the poorly paved road— a reminder. A vow. Almost home.

You think he does it just to torture you.

It fucking works.

The sound of laughter parts the front door as you enter— Frankie had made some colorful comment about your absolute favorite neighbors, the ones who always leave their damn garbage bins in front of your driveway— and your key ring clatters as it hits the bowl on the side table.

You discard the bags, plopping the sandy things down in the entryway, and kick off your sandals— bare soles padding along lacquered wood paneling as you head to the kitchen for some much needed water.

The sound of the tap running camouflages Frankie’s movement, you don’t hear him behind you. He’s got stealth in him, harbored there from before. He’s light on his feet when he chooses to be—nimble-like, bordering on feline—and you startle with a bubbly chuckle when you spin around to discover him far closer than you anticipated.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping us hydrated,” you grin, as if it were obvious. You’re welcome.

He hums, the note rumbling against the cage of his ribs, and lessens the distance between you with a single stride. “That can wait.”

He rids you of the glasses, hurriedly placing them on the counter, and meets you in a kiss—and fuck can that man kiss. Frankie, like with all things, is responsive—attentive. His lips are fever-laced and wanton, and he roves against yours like they’re designed to— fated for no one else’s but your own— nipping and tonguing at your honeyed whines, orphaned there in the well of your mouth.

His hands vine up your body, so deprived of the luxury of your form - of touch - and he grabs at anything he can— your hips, your waist, your breasts through the cotton of your shirt— their half moon curves sitting ripe in his palms.

After ushering you up to the countertop, he strips you of your jean shorts, your bikini bottom sloughing down your calves along with them, and hoists your feet onto the fake granite, prying your legs wide for him.

When he gets an eyeful of your gleaming pussy, pearled with arousal, the wind gets punched straight out of him.

“Jesus honey,” he groans, “you been like this the whole ride home?”

Your brain is numb, lagging with lust. You don’t trust your voice to speak—all you can do is nod.

“Poor thing,” he simpers. “Poor pretty thing, all wound up for me—all wet.”

You whimper at his tone—graveled, just shy of condescending—and your knees weaken shut before he snatches them apart.

“Sit still.”

It’s a command, there’s no room for disobedience; he orders it with a soldier's voice—that dead thing he wears like dog tags around his neck. Vice grip widening your legs, Frankie sinks down onto his shins, head leveled with your core, engrossed with the sight of your damp sex quivering.

Blotchy warmth creeps up your neck, like ivy crawling over brick.

He’s staring at you— hungry and possessed and simply staring at your open cunt and you begin to fidget once more—riling under his umbered appraisal.

“Sit still baby girl,” he murmurs, softer now and desperate too—intoxicated with the heady perfume of your heat. “Lemme just— fuck, I gotta taste you…”

When he swipes the deft muscle of his tongue through your slit, your head careens back onto the cabinets, plates and bowls rattling behind the wood.

Oh god, Frankie.

He’s got a talent for this— an excruciating, body wracking talent. He thirsts for you something dangerous, something unquenchable; he tugs at your labia, forming his lips around your clit, lapping at your essence— the ocean musk, that sea foam wet.

You fumble through his hair, mussing the saline woven strands with urgent fingers as you grind grind grind, rolling your hips to meet him in a covetous show of want and he purrs into your pussy as you fuck his face, the scratch of his stubble chafing at your legs.

It doesn’t take long, not with the fervor of how he’s claiming your cunt with his mouth. You soak Frankie’s chin— you nearly fucking drown him with it—and he’s glistening with you when he finally emerges for air, pulling you to him to slant his lips against yours, letting you savor your own taste on his hot tongue.

“Bedroom. Now,” he husks, breath hitching as his nose grazes along your ear, and with two hands under your armpits, he gathers you off the countertop. Frankie lands a swat at the plump of your backside, sending you scurrying through the living room with a shriek—completely bypassing the abandoned pile of laundry left lying on the couch.

He smirks—delirious and ramrod stiff—sauntering behind you, enamored with the pendulum sway of your hips as you lead him to the bed.

You’ve never been here. You’ve never gone this far. You both have tiptoed this narrow line for months; he’s fingered your ass plenty—you have even gone so far as to don a butt plug. You’ve discussed anal—toyed with the idea, flirted in circles around it like tittering birds.

But you’ve never taken Frankie’s cock. Not yet.

He’s been working you loose and limber for the better part of fifteen minutes, delving himself knuckle deep into your slicked hole until you’re sputtering for more— until you’re downright sopping and fucking shaking— and not with trepidation but with desire. Frankie’s made you gluttonous. Frankie’s made you voracious.

You’re starving for him.

“You gonna let me have this now?” He presses a digit over your ass, kissing his thumb into the knot there.

You tremble, nodding frantic.

“Think this pretty little ass can take me, baby?”

He serves you a slap, plush skin jiggling and pricking pink under his palm. You keen into him, in search of the promise he’s been baiting you with and you arch your hips, gyrating back onto fucking nothing.

“Yes. Yes—” You twist, chin corkscrewed around to see him. You want to watch. You want to watch as he disappears inside you— as you swallow him.

“A-Are you sure?” he asks, suddenly gone gentle around the lines fraying from his eyes—those wrinkles he’s hard-earned and won, like badges, like medals—from all his years spent under an unforgiving sun, all of that which he has seen and endured. Survived. Your Frankie, always thoughtful, always checking. A goddamn gentleman, even now—even as his dick brays hard and angry against the soft of his tawny stomach. “Because really, we don’t have to—”

You cut him off with a whimper, splaying your pelvis up to him—spreading yourself, letting him see the filth dripping from your seam, dappling your inner thighs. “Fuck me,” you whine, both holes puckering for him. “Fill me up, like you said you would— please.”

Something shifts across his features like a shadow and his expression morphs until it steels— his pupils dilating to a predatorial onyx— and he spits into his palm, coating his shaft, jerking himself with it.

He hisses as he guides himself into you, as you accommodate around him, as you envelop him entirely— inch by veritable inch. He has to station a hand to the base of your lumbar, struggling to maintain his composure—air rattling in and out his lungs as he attempts to breathe.

“Shit,” he gasps, “t-this okay?”

You fist the comforter, coiling the fabric into a ball. It’s a stretch— it’s a real goddamn stretch— and briefly you consider that he might, in fact, snap you in two...

Francisco Morales is going to split you clean in half—and God, if you don’t you love it.

“Yes - yes baby - keep going. D-Don’t stop.”

He pitches into you, setting a legato tempo— transfixed by the lurid juncture where you converge into one. “You- you’re so tight. Shit, you’re—”

He silences himself with a delicious moan, biting at his lower lip until the vessels there burst and it purples, and deals a particularly aggressive thrust— one you respond to with an ugly wail of your own, eyes somersaulting in their sockets.

You’re both impatient, verging on rabid, and it doesn’t take long for him to set a rougher pace and fuck you faster - harder - hammering into your ass until you see stars, popping and fizzing in front of your retinas, a symphony of guttural grunts and carnal praise fogging up the bedroom.

Your pussy feels so empty you could cry—weeping and gaping and fluttering for him as he takes your tight ring of muscle, fucking himself to the hilt. It’s like he’s behind your brain—like he’s carved his way up your spine and nudging at the nape of your neck with how deep he’s driving into you—restless. Ceaseless. His balls slap slap slap against your puffy cunt and you pant— girlish and buoyant with the dulled smacks to your sore clit.

“Please,” you sob, “Please, I need—”

You can barely push the words out—your mind is of no help and your tongue lolls useless, languid in your mouth. Your motor functions have all but puttered to a halt, every scrap of you fighting to stay above the sensation that’s threatening to drag you under its current. The rip tide of it all, of Frankie’s cock, coursing through your ass, tempting to hurdle you out into the dark, wet blue.

“Tell me,” Frankie rasps, scraping through his throat. “Tell me, pretty baby.”

Your response is pathetic—you can hardly dignify it as a response at all. Your temple is pressed into the mattress, hair knotted with brine and sand, and all you can do is coo.

Frankie folds over you, angling himself to graze his teeth over your shoulder—savoring the salt and sex tang bathing your skin, all those pheromones and velveteen chemicals anointing you—baptizing you anew for him. He’s gruff when he murmurs, his beard grating your freshly tanned skin.

“C’mon sweetheart - hng, fuck - what do you need?”

“My clit,” you rush out, needy. “My clit. Please, oh my god Frankie I-I need you to, I need – oh fuck—” And your pleas are mummed by a rapturous moan as he trails his hand from the hollow of your hip to the apex of your cleft and flicks.

Fuck. Fuck, oh Christ—

There’s a ringing in your ears, buzzing you deaf, making you dumb—or maybe it’s just your heart, beating loud and errant against your skull—you can’t say. You don’t feel human. Frankie’s pounding into that cinched channel and playing with your clit—swiveling eddies into your swollen nub—and you feel like an animal. You feel debased. You feel disgusting and perfect and you’re fucking drooling; cheek squished and mouth agape, saliva pools from your wagging maw, darkening the white linen you’re being driven into.

“You need me in your pussy, too?”

He doesn’t wait for you to answer him— he already knows what you need, how you need to have every part of you gorged on him— and Frankie dips his fingertips into your entrance, hooking them up and up and in, fucking in time to the cant of his hips.

He’s in you. Everywhere, everywhere—every possible neuron and synapse consumed with him.

“You need me like this—fucking you this deep? Fucking both your pretty holes?” he growls, weaving his hand lower to grab a fistful of your hair, rucking your head up. Throat stretched bare for him, your mewls muddle to cock-drunk cries as he spears you on himself again and again and again.

Yes yes yes fuck harder please please Frankie

You're pleading with him—you’ve been reduced to meager begging— and a chorus of slurs sings your release as you contract around him and cum, the cradle of your hips bucking reflexively.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he seethes, “you’re so good for me baby, Jesus fuck—”

He’s close now—his blissed finish drawing nearer and nearer with each sharp snap of his hips. Frankly, he’s shocked he’s managed to last as long as he has; it’s a small miracle he hadn’t cum the instant he slotted himself inside you with that very first stroke.

“Baby,” he warns, losing his rhythm. You saddle your spine, hollowing out the valley of your back and arch pretty and supple for him— preening under his weight. He moans at that, and through your fucked out haze you have the wherewithal to smirk at him, devious and prideful, a wild look owning your eye.

Frankie has to brace himself on your hips, untangling from your locks to bruise into the pillow of your skin— gripping on for dear fucking life as he plows you. You’re strangling him. You’re strangling the thick of his cock until he’s dizzy with it—until he’s feral and blind and he can’t hold on, can’t keep fighting this fucking monsoon that’s raging in his core.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna—fuck me, oh shit—” He shouts, spurting inside you thrust for thrust, painting your virgin walls with his seed. It’s too much— after all that, and you’re still too tight— and he’s overstimulated to the point of delirium. Frankie roots himself still, cum dribbling out your stuffed hole while he rides out the high of his orgasm—his vision, his senses, his goddamn soul, slowly oozing back into him. When he slides free from you, he does so with a pained heave, leaving you yawning with his absence.

You feel shredded. Vacant. You’ve been sent to another fucking dimension all together.

Without wasting another second, Frankie claws you up. You’re easy and malleable, bones and muscles too strung out to protest, and he whirls you around to bar you to his chest—crushing your sweaty body to his with bullet marred arms— the same arms that have taken lives, that have spared them, too. The same arms that link around you, delicate and daisy-chained, like you’re the most precious thing he has.

And you are.

You are.

Frankie kisses you breathless, drinking rich from your cup— tongue greedy and reverent as he kneels there at your altar, praying his sins into your mouth.

So gorgeous, he croons, peppering your face—your flushed cheeks, your perspired brow—with his lips as he tells you over and over and over again.

So good for me, pretty baby

Was that okay?

Fuck, you’re a dream

You’re my best girl—you’re my only girl

Was that okay?

God, you’re my whole fucking world

Was that okay? Was I okay?

Are you okay?

You swoon, helpless to the contented sigh that seeps out from you like mist. You’ve gone limp against the breadth of him. He has reduced you to rubber, left wobbling in his grasp, and you’re so damn full—your heart and your body—all of it. You feel unequivocally complete. You feel safe, you feel home.

You are home. Francisco is home.

He’s flattening out the nest of your hair, taming the damage he previously delivered to it, earning from you a sleepy grin into the muggy crook of his neck. And with the last of your waning strength you hold his pieces up to the light—the light you left on in the hall as the night grew dark around you, the one who’s yellow glow your naked bodies bask in now, and you say

I love you

I love this

I love this too

tags:

@krissology @heartsofbeskar @madhattervanessa @andiesturgss @sharkbait77 @tenderwhat @javier-pena @pedros-mustache @frannyzooey @chasingdreamer @djarinsbeskar @thosewickedlovelies @juletheghoul @not-the-droids @filthybookworm @pilothusband @letterfromvienna @keeper0fthestars @greatcircle79 @day-off-inkyoto @mermaidxatxheart @lawfulgranola @heatherbel @quica-quica-quica @stuckonthefiction @janesbrontes

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x fem!reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #francisco catfish morales #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfic #Frankie morales fanfic #Frankie catfish morales x reader #frankie x you #frankie x reader

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qslovebot · 3 years

Text

KISS FOR YOUR LIFE: SPENCER REID

Summary: A BAU case leads the reader to take on an undercover role to flush out a ten-person mafia. Before the work can begin, things go awry and the reader has to improvise and pretend to seduce Spencer to keep her cover and arrest the real unsub.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings/includes: talk of murder, mentions of sex, suggested past experiences with misogyny, suggestive jokes, unsub is a radical feminist, swearing, arrests, guns, making out, sort of fluffy end.

Word Count: 4159

A/N: Written like an episode. I removed Rossi so... AU? First actual fanfic on here, tell me what you think?

Today was your first official day at the BAU, switching from two floors down as an underestimated agent to upstairs, with the Big League. Agent Hotchner decided he needed new, young-minded blood. He was notorious for picking the best of the best and after an intimidating interview with him and his brooding questions, he decided he wanted you on his team.

You had been here before, of course. You frequently visited the ever-chatting Penelope Garcia for lunch, sometimes in her office, sometimes heading downstairs for a slice of pizza or a salad. She vented about her issues, while you talked about the constant misogyny that ran through the men on your floor. She was five years older than you and decided that as your 'elder' she would put on the angry soccer mom look and kick their asses. But, lucky for you, two floors upward, the men didn't act like children on the job, so Garcia could keep her regular look.

Here it was, glass entrance, high ceilings. The air smelled like paper and was filled with a fresh sort of low mumbling and the small clicks of the keyboards. A semi-fresh start. Today you would organize your new desk, sort files, meet the others...

"Agent (Y/L/N), we have a case in Boston, we will be briefed on the jet. Get your things ready, we leave in twenty-five minutes," Agent Hotchner said as he walked by. He didn't stop for a single second, those dark dress shoes clomping heavily to the desks of your new fellow agents to inform them as well. So much for your plans.

Not wanting to appear unready, you rushed to set your things down and grab the few things you needed for the case. Hotchner had said always bring three spare outfits rolled to the smallest packing size possible, toiletries (toothpaste, toothbrush, hairbrush, and feminine hygiene products) as well as one extra pair of shoes. Those were already packed into a small bag, so in with those went your notebook, pens, and highlighter. You came prepared, so in no time, you were on the jet for the first time, exhilarated.

A hand was extended to you when you took your seat. It belonged to a man with caramel skin and a dazzling smile, "You must be (Y/L/N). The name is Derek Morgan." Anyone who used 'the name is' seemed like they felt superior in some way. It was used in the media to introduce someone of importance. 'The name is Bond, James Bond', ran through your head as you gratefully shook his hand.

"My name is Emily Prentiss and I... didn't quite catch your first name," a woman with a v-neck sweater also reached to shake your hand. "I think I may have heard it, but I must have forgotten."

"(Y/N)," you replied with a small smile. It felt nice to be greeted with kind eyes, rather than greedy ones. "It's not a very memorable name, don't worry."

Emily looked apologetic, but soon reverted to her previous smile. I was greeted by the blonde woman across the aisle, too far to shake my hand. "My name is Jennifer Jareau, I'm the media liaison, but you can call me JJ, everyone does. It's really great to meet you- for a moment I thought Penelope had made up a friend as a result of too many hours in front of a screen."

You laughed a little, ruffling your hair. She seemed outgoing, but I had already started profiling Derek Morgan and I wanted to stop there. Agent Hotchner sat down with someone I had never noticed on my visits to Penelope. I had noticed everyone else here on this jet at least once before, but... not him. How had you missed him?

He stood at about six-one, maybe six-two? He was thin, much the opposite to Morgan's greatly muscular arms. This man was calm-looking, quiet. His clothes said that maybe he was meticulous and orderly- he looked like the kind of person who didn't own a single pair of sweatpants. His face was chiselled, with a sharp jawline and cheekbones that carved the shadows on his face. His eyes, however, were much softer. Long eyelashes and dark eyes made them bigger, but they were slightly blocked by bronze-toned brown curls that at the end of his combed and gelled hair, wrapped around his jaw, neck, and face.

He was beautiful, if you were entirely frank with yourself.

And he didn't even notice you were there until Hotchner nudged his arm in a way that said 'say hello' the same way one would introduce two toddlers. You were sure you weren't a toddler and nor was this man, but it appeared you both may have been the youngest there.

When he looked your way, you wanted to look away, but couldn't. He seemed surprised to see you there and you were trying to play off the staring by introducing yourself. "Hi, I'm SSA (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I don't think we've met, it's nice to meet you." You extended your hand and he just shook his head no, his lips pressing into a tight line.

He didn't shake hands, you realized. Probably a slight germophobe. You cleared your throat, "I'm sorry if that was an uncomfortable gesture, I didn't know." Humiliating.

The tall man opened his mouth to say something, shut his mouth, opened it again but then turned a little pink and sat down immediately next to Hotchner and stared at his hands that were folded in his lap. You had thought you nailed pretty much every introduction, but this one? Fuck.

You reverted back to your business with a sigh, patting your knees. It felt like you had somehow lost something. JJ whispered to you, silently pointing to the tall man, "Dr. Spencer Reid, human encyclopedia, dictionary, and knows pretty much everything." You nodded a thank you and she nodded back.

Derek Morgan, however, tapped Emily Prentiss on the shoulder and mumbled, "Reid did his 'pretty-girl-freakout'."

Emily gasped, "Oh, he did!

The two seemed to have forgotten you were in front of them and they noticed your confusion in unison, both of them freezing up and chuckling nervously. You smiled an extremely awkward smile and left thinking about Dr. Spencer Reid for later as you got to the case.

This was about a female mafia boss who seemed to take on the personality, style, and characteristics of the taste of rich men and kill them after having sex with them. The woman was reported and seen by one witness to see her and that was the only person outside of this mafia who had seen her face, so they were working with the sketch artist and would have the picture ready and accurate upon our arrival.

Victimology was simple, she was after men who had too much power. She probably identified with being a radical feminist. She was after their money and had sex with them to dethrone them on the way. Possibly bordered on a personality disorder considering she seemed to be entirely all-in to her 'disguises'.

The funniest thing was the way they all looked at you when you announced those lines. Perhaps you would work yourself out of the 'child' stage faster than you thought.

The BAU hit the precinct in much less time than I had expected and on the ground, running. You were immediately given things to do and you were on top of it all, every order. That was until the drawing of the Mafia leader AKA 'The Seductress' was pulled up and the whole BAU gasped at how she looked EXACTLY like you.

"Do I need my cuffs?" Morgan joked. You had covered your mouth in disbelief and the rest of the room was doing double-takes.

You laughed nervously, "I swear... that isn't me, but oh my god..." Morgan was laughing and Emily and JJ whispering and had confused smiles. Spencer Reid stood in the corner, his hand on his cheek, seemingly studying the photo. He looked statue-like, borderline godly.

"Can this be used to our advantage?" Hotch launched back into technical thinking, brow furrowed. You looked at him, mouth open, but immediately shut it out of professionalism. What was going on in his head?

Reid spoke up, "If we position her just right and at the right time in one of the hotspots for that group, we can possibly get her to somehow trick the other members into some sort of turn-in."

Her. Indirect. Did you do something wrong?

"Or a simple appearance could start gossip and a possible flock to where she was spotted. As long as people aren't seeing double or reaching to do so, she can play as The Seductress." Emily said, looking at you. "Are you up to try, (Y/L/N)?"

All eyes on you. Your first day turned to chaos. But this was your job and you would prove your place here. So you agreed and in a whisk of an afternoon, you were transformed into the mirror image of The Seductress while you were talked through the plan through a radio. Turned out, so prove a professional place, you needed to make yourself look ridiculously unprofessional.

Pinned up hair, dark cat eye makeup, a dress similar to hers that happened to be on hand. Long, deep red, with a long slit up the side and your tits were practically falling out of it, but the dress fit and they were secure, so you dealt with it. There was no other space for a gun other than the side of your thigh where The Seductress kept hers knife. Now, you had to get going, meaning you had to face the BAU in the getup.

When you walked out, Derek Morgan hooted and whistled and Emily gave him a look that said 'oh lord' like an annoyed sibling. You smiled a little and essentially just kept walking, figuring if you moved, it would give them less time to stare at your tits.

Turning the corner, you noticed that Dr.Spencer Reid was much redder than he had been earlier on the jet. So maybe he really did think you were pretty. You caught yourself smiling at the thought, but shook your head free of any ideas. Professional! No crushes on Spencer Reid!

You arrived near the scene, dropped off by Hotchner. "You know what to do. Reid will be going with you to the crateyard, he will also be nearby when you head in. If you see The Seductress, do not make the arrest. If you can, lure her."

You nodded. Wow, first time in the field with the BAU and you had the leading role. No pressure, no pressure, just... everyone depending on you. But the pressure came back when you realized you had heard right and Reid was going with you, alone. You had done really well with the job so far today, minus finding the tall doctor extremely attractive. He came to stand beside you and since he was much taller than you were, you were sure he could look right down your dress without even trying. Not like anyone had to try, but he had the upper hand.

You ached to cover yourself, but that was a major risk. The Seductress was confident, she wouldn't cover-up. You got into the tinted car with Reid, him in the driver's seat and you in the passenger's seat. Silence crept up, but he turned the engine over and headed east to where the mafia was to meet up.

"Some first day," you mumbled nervously.

Reid seemed to think you had said something to him and he talked to you directly for what seemed like the first time. "P-pardon?" He had a stutter when talking to you and to be honest it was cute but there was no time to crush!

"Oh, I was just remarking to myself on how this is my first day and I'm already... so... out there." You sighed and pat your knees. The jitters crept up, but so did butterflies. "Nervous, I'm nervous."

He looked over and swallowed hard, so hard it was audible. Was he fighting the same urge to be friendlier or was he just fighting the urge to look at your tits like a twelve-year-old boy would? Either way, you were glad he was with you. He smelled like books, leather, and cologne and it was oddly calming.

You reached the other side of the crateyard in a few more minutes and he handed you your gun, which you shoved into the holster on your thigh. "You're going without a vest so... k-keep focused," Spencer said- and it seemed like he had so many words jumbled on the tip of his tongue, but refused to say them. You thought he was afraid to annoy you, as you knew he liked to give lengthy explanations. "I'll be behind, uh- the crates."

You smiled at him and watched him look away, his curls falling in his face. God, he was so gorgeous. If this went wrong, you were glad you would go with that shy look of his in the front of your mind. He pulled on his vest and you put out a hand and stopped him. "If they see you with the vest at all, in any way, they'll know what's happening."

He nodded, keeping his eyes from yours as he pulled on a plain black jacket over the vest. For a genius, he seemed to have his mind a little fuzzy tonight. In the dark of the night, the only lights were flickering lamps on high-beamed poles. Your heart was beating hard as you waited for the signal to begin to move.

"G-good luck," Spencer's words fumbled out of his mouth and I looked at him for a moment where he looked right back at you. He chewed on his bottom lip, eyelids fluttering as you tried to look anywhere else and there it was- the radio signal. The tension that was there in that brief moment defused. You gave him a small smile before opening the car door and standing tall, in the aura of The Seductress.

Spencer waited until you were out between the crates to leave the car. You heard the door shut gently behind you, but his footsteps were silent. Much quicker than you thought, there was a gruff voice that didn't belong to Spencer. "My lady, may I say what an honour it is to have you join us this evening." You spun to face a man in a dark suit. You didn't have The Seductress's voice, so you nodded in the most gracious way you could.

"Bernard and Lolita are waiting inside the abandoned building for the small exchange as well as the rest of us, but Mamacita... you're being tailed by the FBI." He said, pointing to the crate that hid Dr. Spencer Reid. Fuck, fuck, fuck. "I'll go kill him for you!"

So flat out, he wanted to kill Spencer Reid, a rotting smile on his face as if it was an act of kindness. He knew Spencer was there, he saw... but you weren't busted? God, this man was stupid.

"No," you said, in a quiet, yet strong voice, grabbing the gruff man by the shoulder pad. "He is my kill."

The man grinned an evil grin and you did your best to smile evilly in return. You showed him your gun and he rubbed his palms together. "The gluck and Glock," he chuckled. "Can I watch?"

He thought you were going to fuck and kill Spencer. Your heart skipped a beat and you tried hard not to show it. Oh no... how to work your way out of this... Spencer couldn't help you. Or... could he?

You glared at the man, "No, but I know that his team is on the way. Get Bernard, Lolita, and anyone else in on the next killings from that abandoned building and run straight west. Do not stop. I will catch up to you once I'm finished with the agent here." You improvised the best you could and this stupid man bought it. Little did he know that the team was stationed Westbound.

"Got it," his face was dazed and malevolent. "But I'm not leaving until I know you've got this handled, my lady."

"You question my skill?" You shot back, still acting.

He looked scared for a moment, "No, not at all, I just... You're a lot shorter than I was expecting."

You stared daggers, "And you insult me?"

"Just wanted to know you had it covered... in case something is fishy here..." was he really catching on or was he confused and just running through the precautions?

Fuck, you had been so focused on the cover you forgot you were a profiler. This man was small-minded, probably brought into this ordeal through family ties. Since he was so stupid, he was trusted with less... hence why he was outside the building as the lookout, rather than in on the meeting.

Why he wouldn't leave- he was so incapable of proper interaction he had never had the chance to be with a woman. Watching was the only way he would ever see. He was stupid and he was stubborn. He was not going to leave until he saw the beginning.

The best thing would be to let him stay for proof. "Fine. But when I give you my look, you run and get everyone running straight West." You narrowed your eyebrows at him and he looked like he was going to sweat out of his skin. But... this meant...

You had a few seconds, you rushed over to behind the crate to where Spencer stood, his gun in hand. "W-what are you-" he questioned in a whisper-yell.

"He's onto me, I need you to go along with this- can I kiss you, Dr.Reid?" You whispered back. His eyes went wide and his cheeks flushed pink. Once again, being professional called for being unprofessional. You really didn't want to kiss him- at least not now, not like this. He wouldn't speak and the mafia man was coming. "Reid, if I don't do this, he won't flush the group West and we'll both be shot and if not shot, targeted by a mafia!"

"Y-yes!" he practically squeaked, his back to the crate he was hiding behind. This really was the only way- this other man would not be talked down, because he was taught to just shoot, rather than listen and understand. "I'm sorry if I-"

You cut him off by reaching up, grabbing the collar of his shirt and kissing him. It took him a moment, but he kissed back. You could feel the heat off of his cheeks. The first day on the job, you had embarrassed yourself, gotten dressed like a Mafia killer, played the part, and now you were kissing Dr.Spencer Reid in a crateyard... and he was surprisingly not a bad kisser. He was a little sloppy the first few seconds but moments later, he figured it out. His one hand went on your jaw, the other on your waist, both of them shaking. You could tell that the shaking wasn't because the man watching you both right now had a gun, it was you.

You were making out with him, hard. Your body was pressed to his tightly against the crate and Spencer was holding you there. Your hands were still gripping his shirt. Messy altogether but your lips met in every perfect way. It was good, but for work. This was when you knew to stop- you had convinced the other man. You pulled away, turned your head and mouthed to the mafia man, 'GO' and he ran.

Now things would be extremely awkward. You pushed yourself away from Spencer whose hands stayed on your waist and face until you were entirely out of his reach. You laughed anxiously and he stood there, hands behind his back. That was... that was wow, but... it was for the case. For the case.

It was time to get moving. Spencer knew it, you knew it. The real Seductress was on her way. You turned your head over your shoulder and he was moving slowly, head down. You fought off a small smile. He was entirely red, gun still held loosely in his hand.

You turned your head and were met by a sharp blow to the face. Both of you had let your guard down. Stupid.

"I don't like impostors," said the female voice that was the source of the blow. Hell, it was her. Spencer clocked his gun into place and you turned, elbowing The Seductress in the chest. She returned with another hard blow that you ducked, spinning around her and kicking the back of her leg. She recovered quickly and shot up, punching you in the stomach. You lost your breath for a second and she took the opportunity to punch you in the jaw and pull a knife.

"Put the knife down!" Spencer called. His voice was stronger facing a woman with a sharp knife than it was when talking to you alone. "I know who you are, you want what's right for women, correct?"

The Seductress narrowed her eyes at him like her next meal, leaving you on the ground. Would Spencer shoot if she threw that knife? Odd she didn't have a gun on her. She must have been relying on the others for more protection. You stood up quietly, watching her slowly advance on Spencer. He had your lipstick smeared over his lips, he looked rough, but he held his gun out in front of him and had the other hand up to reason with her. "Men like you think yourselves above women. You, FBI, you think yourself better than men and women alike because you're the authority. Tell me, how do you like your women, Agent?"

He gulped, eyes flickering to you. You pulled out your gun. "I think... I think I'm a weak man and I'm no better than anyone. I don't deserve women." Spencer said, looking at the evil lady. In person, she looked a lot less like you.

"Lies. It's the instinct of men to feel superior to women. You'll have a lot less instinct when you're dead!" She snarled, lunging at him with her blade out. You pulled the trigger, she fell to the ground. Not dead, but wounded to pass out. Spencer narrowly jumped out of her way, watching her knife clatter to the ground.

You looked up at Spencer, bewildered. You had done it. You saved the case, took down a murderous mafia boss. It was only when Spencer pointed at your face and said, "Y-you're bleeding, (Y/N), are you okay?"- that you noticed your cut lip and the blood pouring from your forehead. But you also noticed he called you by your first name.

He reached a hand forward but retracted it when you winced from the sudden pain. Adrenaline took the pain away temporarily, you supposed. There were still things to be done. Spencer called for backup and a medic and watched as you cuffed the woman. She wasn't going to die, but she did need help.

Once medics arrived, Spencer drove you both back to the Westward situation, where ten arrests had been made. You were in a state of haze, so how Spencer's jacket got around your shoulders was a mystery. When you stepped out of the car, you were greeted by the rest of the agents.

"Are you okay?!" Prentiss was the first to greet you both. She grabbed you by the shoulders and looked at the nearly-dried blood on your skin. "We got worried when you didn't follow soon after, you got her?"

"Yeah," you smiled tiredly.

She grinned back. "Fill us in on the details on the way back, okay? Let's get you two cleaned up."

But Derek Morgan found Spencer, "Hey pretty-boy, is that royal rouge you've got on your lips there?" he teased. Spencer panicked and looked into the mirror of the nearest car, seeing that he did in fact have your lipstick on his mouth. He tried to wipe it off with his wrist, but it still stained. You wiped your own lip with your thumb and Derek caught you. "Okay, Miss Newbie, I see you."

Your eyes widened and Emily raised her eyebrows at you, a teasing smile on her lips. "It was to keep my cover. It's what sent those guys your way, one of them has serious sexual issues." You made sure they knew it- to save yourself and to save Spencer. Derek Morgan spun away with a huge knowing grin, back to Hotchner who was conversing with the Chief of Police. Emily pulled you away to the other medics and you shot Spencer a smile as you went.

He smiled back, still wiping off his mouth.

-tags

@ellyhotchner @softhairedhotch <3

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #dr spencer reid #derek morgan #emily prentiss #aaron horkey #spencer x reader #bau #mgg #fanfic #fanfiction #cm #reid #baby 🥺

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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

Text

driver’s license ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 2520

request?: no

description: in which a new song reminds her too much of her ex, and leads them to reconnect

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing, angst, sadness

based on this song (of course)

masterlist

Who knew that a song by a 17 year old could cause so much hurt to be brought back for me? Not to bash 17 year olds or anything, but when I was 17 I could never write something so heartbreakingly beautiful.

I was on my way home from work when the song came on the radio for the first time. I was captivated by the lyrics immediately and found myself having to pull over because I couldn’t stop crying. It took a solid five minutes and having to play my happy playlist on Spotify before I finally felt okay enough to get home, however the minute I got in through the door I found the song on Spotify and listened to it all night.

The lyrics connected with me in a way that a song hadn’t in years, and the pain in the singer’s voice opened up fresh wounds that I had thought were long closed.

She's so much older than me She's everything I'm insecure about

Of course he ended up with her. Even if he hadn’t actually left me for her, he always told me there was nothing between them besides on screen chemistry. And now they were dating and supposedly “so in love”.

And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me 'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

He wrote so many songs about me. He played every one of them for me after writing and recording them, just to get my approval and my okay to put them out. They were beautiful songs - songs in which he promised forever. He’d always said he was going to marry me one day, make me the mother of his future kids. His “forever girl”.

Can't drive past the places we used to go to 'Cause I still fucking love you, babe

God...did I ever still love him.

Our relationship didn’t get a proper closure. At least, not on my end. It all happened so fast. He came home after a long tour and was silent the whole night. He didn’t even try to make love to me the way he always did after being away from me for so long. The next morning, he told me over breakfast that he had lost feelings for me. He asked me to get my things and take them back to the apartment I still had despite basically living out of his home. Then he left, saying he didn’t want to be there to watch me leave.

After that, it was like he stopped existing. Well, it was like Colson Baker stopped existing. Machine Gun Kelly was everywhere, especially after announcing his new relationship with Megan Fox, in which he made sure to post pictures and videos with her basically every week. But the Colson I knew and loved stopped existing. He blocked me on everything, even my phone number. He didn’t reach out to me, neither did Casie. I figured the latter was because her father told her not to, which almost hurt more than the breakup did. I loved Casie like my own daughter, and I loved Colson more than anything. And in the span of 12 hours, I lost both of them.

I credited that non-closure to the reason I had such a hard time moving on, even after being broken up almost a year. I really thought I was okay, until I heard fucking Olivia Rodrigo singing about her own heartbreak, and it made me remember mine was still fresh.

On one day that my thoughts were becoming too dark to bare on my own, I decided to go out for a drive to clear my head. I turned on the song, just to make myself more depressed I guess. I wasn’t really paying attention to the road (not good, I know) and, I guess by some muscle memory, I found myself driving down Colson’s street. I hadn’t realized where I was until I saw his familiar house, which his familiar car in the driveway...and his familiar tall frame getting out of it.

My breath caught in my throat and I was sure I was about to crash the car. I looked at him for a little too long, every good memory we ever had rushing back in that moment. He was looking down at his keys as he bumped the car door shut with his hip. I wondered if Megan was in the house waiting for him, and found that that thought hurt me more than actually seeing him.

I saw his head lifting, looking in my direction, for a split second before my eyes darted back to the road. I hoped he couldn’t see me in the driver’s seat, or that he didn’t see me looking at him. I hoped he just thought I was a random car passing through the neighborhood. If he couldn’t see that it was specifically me driving, there was no way he’d know it was my car. There were too many cars like it.

My heart was racing and I could feel tears welling up in my eyes again. I knew I had to pull over, but I was still too close to his house to feel comfortable stopping. I blinked my tears away and continued driving, trying to steady my heartbeat as I drove to the coffee shop just at the end of his road. The one we always used to go to.

I got out and went inside, hoping that getting something to eat and drink would help me to settle down before I drove home. I ordered an iced coffee and a muffin and took it to sit in a booth tucked away in the back of the coffee shop. I was trying to distract myself with my phone when someone approached and spoke.

“Hey.”

My whole body tensed up as I looked up to see - of course - Colson stood over me.

“Hey,” I said. I cringed at how hoarse my voice sounded. God, pull it together (Y/N).

“I thought that was you driving past my place,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets awkwardly.

“Yeah, sorry,” I said, trying to come up with some excuse on the spot as to why I was in the neighborhood. “I haven’t been to this place in so long and found myself craving some coffee. I guess...it was just muscle memory to come through your way to get here.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “I...I actually got a little excited. I thought...I thought maybe you were coming over for a second. I forgot...”

His voice trailed away.

How could he forget we broke up when he was the one who dumped me? And he was the one who moved on soo effortlessly?

“Can I sit?” he asked.

I shrugged in response. “Free country.”

He chuckled at my joke, and my heart did an involuntary flip. God, I missed that laugh.

He sat across from me in the booth and looked down at his hands. I stared down at the food in front of me, suddenly feeling too queasy to eat. Instead, I took another sip of my iced coffee.

“How have you been?” he asked.

The questioned annoyed me.

How have I been?! Well, let’s see: you absolutely shattered my heart, went MIA on me and took your daughter with you, started seeing the much older, much prettier actress that you told me you had no feelings for and decided to rub it in my face through social media, all while I have been so broken for nearly a year that I constantly have friends and family checking in on me to make sure I’m still alive. How the fuck do you think I’ve been?!

I decided not to respond that way though, even though I was aching to make him feel bad for what he did to me. I knew it was the smarter option to try and be the bigger person in this situation.

“I’ve been okay,” I responded, trying to be as vague as possible. “Not too much as happened really. Still...same old me.”

I didn’t ask him how he was, because I already knew. He knew that I knew, because how could I not? His face was plastered everywhere, usually sucking on Megan’s face as well.

“It’s cool to see you,” he said instead. “I...It’s been too long.”

“Well, it tends to be hard to communicate when you block someone on everything overnight.”

I quickly took a sip of my iced coffee, almost wishing that would put the words back in my mouth.

Colson winced. “Yeah, that was...that was wrong of me. I...I’m sorry.”

“Why the fuck are you here, Colson?” I finally snapped. So much for being the bigger person. “Couldn’t you have just watched me drive past in peace? Did you have to follow me?”

“I felt like I had to,” he said. “I wanted...I wanted to know I hadn’t just seen you this time like all the other times I saw a car that looked like yours. I had to know if it was actually you this time. And I...I had to see you in person again.”

“You could’ve called at any time,” I reminded him. “Or messaged on social media, or even just texted. You could’ve even sent a fucking letter, Colson! If you wanted to see me that bad, you had ways of reaching out. You decided not to, you decided that the break up meant I was non-existent to you anymore.”

“I know!” he snapped back, his hand hitting the table and causing the contents on it to rattle. All eyes in the coffee shop were staring at us for a brief moment before going back to what they were doing. “I fucking know, and it was the worst fucking mistake I’ve ever made. I’m so sorry, (Y/N), I was a complete idiot.”

“Sorry means nothing to me, Colson,” I told him. “Sorry doesn’t undo the year of heartbreak and agony you put me through. Sorry doesn’t undo the fact that you left me for six months to go on tour, that you texted and called me every morning and every night to tell me how much you loved me and how you couldn’t wait to see me again, even on the night before you came home, only to do a complete 180 the moment you got off the plane. It doesn’t excuse the fact that you told me to take my shit and leave the place I had considered a home for two years because you were ending the five year relationship that you claimed to be so deeply in love with. And it especially doesn’t excuse the fact that mere months after the break up you were all over Megan fucking Fox!”

He was silent for a long time. His eyes were becoming moist with tears, and I could feel a lump growing in my own throat. But I couldn’t break. I refused to do so. Not in front of him, not right now.

“I’m such a fucking idiot,” he finally breathed, his voice cracking slightly. “You have to know how much I truly do fucking love you, (Y/N). That never went away. It’s still there, you’re still my forever girl in my heart. But when I came home from tour...my manager called me as I was boarding the flight and told me that there was a plan in motion to get promo for the new album and for the movie with Megan. They wanted Megan and I to date for PR, to be all lovey dovey in front of the cameras and to gush over one another constantly. I reminded him about you and he told me I had to break up with you. He gave me no option, he said either I did that or I was being dropped from the label. No album, no movie, no...no nothing. Just the loser who was still being referred to as the idiot who got his career destroyed by Eminem.”

It was a shocking revelation. I had known Colson’s manager, he seemed like such a nice guy. He didn’t seem like the type to give those kinds of ultimatums. But there was that saying about a wolf in sheep’s clothing...

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.

“It was easier to make you think I just wasn’t in love anymore,” he said. “I didn’t want you to think I was choosing my career over you, cause I’d never do that. You meant - you mean - the world to me (Y/N). You’re my everything. I just...all the hard work I was putting into everything, for all of that to go to waste, for everything to flop just because I didn’t want to fake date my co-star. I was afraid of the power my manager held over me so...so I just did it. I went along with the plan. I pretended to be hopelessly in love with Megan when I had no feelings for her at all.”

He reached across the table and took my hands in his. I jumped and thought about pulling away from him, but I couldn’t deny that it felt nice to feel his touch again.

“I love you, (Y/N),” he said. “More than anything, you’re the person I want to be with. That bullshit with Megan, it’s long over. We just haven’t made it known publicly, but it will be announced. I want to try and pick up where things left off with us. I want to have you back in my home - in my arms - preparing to marry you someday. Please, (Y/N), can you please forgive me?”

It was the words I wanted to hear more than anything. I had dreamt about hearing Colson ask to take me back ever since he had broken up with me. At that point in time, I probably would’ve jumped at the chance, too. But this time, I slowly pulled my hands away from his. He looked at me in confusion.

“I can’t,” I told him. “Colson, you really fucking hurt me. You left me with no explanation, not even any closure. I get why you did it, but you have to understand that you telling me now isn’t going to undo a year’s worth of hurt that you put me through. I don’t know if anything will ever undo that at this point.”

I stood from the booth, taking my coffee with me and leaving a heartbroken Colson looking up at me with puppy dog eyes.

“There’s this song I’ve been listening to,” I said. “It’s called Driver’s License. I think it’s the only accurate way to describe how much you hurt me when you broke up with me. I encourage you to listen to it, then you can try to take me back again.”

I turned quickly and left before he could see me cry.

#machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #colson baker #colson baker imagine #colson baker x reader #mgk #drivers license #olivia rodrigo #imagine #one shot #angst #song #song prompt #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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interact-if · 3 years

Photo

Day 2 of Pride Month interviews! You know them, you love them…. give it up for Ames!

Ames, author of Attollo and Metamorphosis

Pride Month Featured Authors

“…and it was a singular, terrible thought, which burrowed itself into your mind like an engorged maggot. This was not a man nor a monster. This was a concept, an ideology, a terrible myth, which had personified itself to stand before you now.You were, to put it simply, screwed.”

After several years of radio silence, you receive a message from your younger sibling that carries a strange sense of urgency to it. Either out of familial concern or boredom, you embark on a journey from your residence to your sibling’s apartment in New Hampshire to see what’s going on and, hopefully, be home before the weekend.

Too bad it’s never so simple.

Demo: Attollo, Metamorphosis (TBA)

Tags: cybernoir, thriller

(INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT UNDER THE CUT!)

Q1: Tell us a little bit about your project(s)!

Attollo is a cyber-noir horror set in a walled city off the coast of the Atlantic that’s been a victim of a nuclear disaster. After several years of radio silence, you receive a message from your younger sibling that carries a strange sense of urgency to it. Either out of familial concern or boredom, you embark on a journey from your residence to your sibling’s apartment in New Hampshire to see what’s going on and, hopefully, be home before the weekend. Too bad it’s never so simple. Attollo is a 17+ game that deals with heavy topics and a lot of moral questioning; from cults to corrupt government, it has no shortage of monsters in the dark—both metaphorical and literal.

Metamorphosis is a crime/horror story based in the world of crime scene cleanup, where there are three simple steps: Get the call, clean the scene, and don’t ask too many questions. These are the rules that you live by under the employment of Noctua’s Crime Scene Services, and you credit them for keeping you alive.

However, after a routine house call brings forth nightmares of memories that are not your own, you find yourself pulled deeper into Noctua—a city of both monster and man—in a bid to find out the truth behind the murder of Deirdre Callow, and better yet, how her memories came to be yours. Your job mandates that you don’t dig too deep—but could this finally be the exception?

Metamorphosis is 18+ and will have explicit content; follow the last moments of a stranger to find out not only who took her life, but how this connects to the underbelly that Noctua works so hard to hide.

Q2: Why interactive fiction? What drew you to the medium?

Lmaoo, oh man. I think it really all began last summer when I first found examples of interactive fiction. I don’t even remember how I came across it, it might’ve been that I saw it mentioned in a post or I saw it as a tag on Itch.io, but at some point, last summer I began to investigate it more. I think what really drew me in was the ability for the player to control the narrative; it was like playing an old RPG, but modernized, and the fact that I could see a story unfold that was influenced by my decisions was so fascinating to me. Not to mention that IF allows so much more character depth than regular novels, in my opinion.

I’m 99% sure my first exposure to interactive fiction was through the game Crème de la Crème (a fantastic game, by the way) and I just enjoyed it so much that I went haywire for the genre. Then Temple of the Endless Night came out (another fantastic game that I’m looking forward to!), and that was really the turning point for inspiring me to give it a go. Now, almost a year later, here I am working on my own two games!

Q3: Are your characters influenced by your identity? How?

My bisexuality doesn’t have much of a major influence on the game, but I do think it contributed to the way that I view and write relationships. I figured out my sexuality around high school (I kissed a girl in high school and found out I liked it just as much as when I kissed a boy) and since then I’ve been very involved in the LGBTQ+ community of both my hometown and uni town.

I think this involvement, like being able to hear about other people’s experiences and share my own, has made me feel a lot more comfortable writing some of the characters in the game. Although Attollo and Metamorphosis both don’t focus heavily on relationships (both have murder in them, which I feel is a bit more pressing), I do keep the option for any RO’s to be romanced by anyone, regardless of gender or preference, because that’s simply what I’ve become so attuned to. In terms of side characters relationships as well, I think my involvement and my own experiences have allowed me to write far more diverse relationships than I might have, and I think that this has also allowed a more fulfilling experience for players when reading through.

I also have incorporated some struggles that I’ve faced before because of my identity into the games. For example, I and a few others have faced issues with religion due to who we are, and I incorporate this into both games. Dreamwalker, Pariah, and Sysba from Attollo all have shadows of this experience in their character origins, and Ilali and Ariston from Metamorphosis has a major point involving identity and beliefs. Both games also have undertows of ostracization and division between groups, which is also something I’ve experienced in the past. Being able to grapple these moments and control them via a narrative has been eye opening for both myself and others involved, and I’m hoping it can be a learning experience for the readers as well.

Q4: What would you like to see more of in LGBT+ fiction?

I think, now, the amount of progress in LGBTQ+ fiction is expanding at a wonderful rate. There are so many interactive fictions with options to select sexuality, select gender, select beliefs, etc. However, despite this expansion, there’s still a good deal of backlash against some aspects of LGBTQ+ fiction.

For example, as a bisexual woman who has dated men, I know there are some individuals who may not consider me a part of the LGBTQ+ because of this aspect. Not only is this incredibly disheartening, but it’s a viewpoint that I think should be educated against, and fiction is a fantastic pathway to do this. Another example I can think of is a friend of mine who identifies as asexual but is sex-neutral rather than sex-repulsed. Most people can’t believe her when she says this, and she often faces backlash for this declaration as well. This is another thing that I think that, with exposure through a medium such as fiction, can be worked on.

What I’m trying to say here is that I think LGBTQ+ fiction can be a brilliantly educational platform—if used right. Although it already teaches so much with what it has, I think having that representation of different subgroups of sexuality, of their experiences and beliefs, so people can become aware and knowledgeable of these options, is something I’d like to see more of.

Q5: What or who are some of your biggest inspirations?

Oh man, I struggled to list off inspirations because I know I have some, but as soon as someone asks me who they are my brain just goes ‘brrrrrr’ LMAO.

In terms of the games that I write and the worlds that I build, I think David Lynch and Robert Chambers are probably the two that I somehow incorporate. Attollo and Metamorphosis both have a lot of surrealist horror, which are what these two really specialized in. Shirley Jackson is also another person who inspired me a lot when it came to the writing and creation of Attollo, especially the intrapersonal relationships between the characters.

In terms of life, this is something else I really struggle to answer. I don’t really have celebrity inspirations or anything like that, but I do get inspired by my close friends and sister a lot. Seeing them go through the struggles that they face and absolutely thrive really drives me to push through my own struggles. They’re the strongest, most brilliant group of people that I know, and I consider myself incredibly fortunate that I can be a part of their lives. Not only that, but we also all collectively encourage each other to push further and to chase our dreams (as cheesy as that is LMAO) and that’s something that I think is another stroke of good fortune. I struck gold when I met them, and they’re some of the biggest inspirations in my life.

Q6: What’s a super vague spoiler for your current project?

For Attollo, I’d say ‘Home is where the heart is.’ For Metamorphosis, to quote John Berendt, ‘Always stick around for one more drink.’

Q7: Lastly, what advice would you give to your readers?

What advice would I give to you all? Oh my, I’m not exactly a wise woman here, but I’ll do my best to give you something lmaooo. I think what I really want you to walk away with, from both my stories and this interview, is that if you’re passionate about something, then share it with the world. Don’t let anyone deter your passion.

I remember listening to this painter once who commented to his friend how he ‘really liked painting’, and his friend’s first response was ‘but are you good at it?’. He then compared this to the scenario of walking; would you say, ‘but are you good at it?’ to someone who said, ‘I really like walking’? No, because it simply wouldn’t make sense, and it doesn’t make sense to say that to anyone who’s doing something out of passion.

To put it simply—if you love something, then don’t let anyone take that passion from you. I began writing these stories because I’m passionate about Attollo and Metamorphosis; I love each character, each bit of lore, and I share it with you because I want you all to enjoy it as well. Am I the best writer? God, no. Does everyone like what I write? Definitely not. But will I let this stop me from writing, from enjoying what I’m doing? Never, and I want you to do the same.

Explore your passions, embrace your passions, and let what makes you happy continue to do so

#if: events #Pride Month 2021 #pride month #queer authors #queer fiction #queer creators #interactive fiction

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Omertà👄18

Warnings: noncon sexual acts and rap, fingering, blow job, blood, violence, death, some elements may be untagged.

This is dark!Bucky and dark! Loki and explicit (with sides of dark!Steve and dark!Thor). Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your father was a bookie and taught you everything you know about numbers. After his death, you were taken on as a bookkeeper for Loki Laufeyson, resident crime boss in Manhattan. But can you keep your place in the background when a man from Brooklyn threatens to drag you to the forefront?

Note: Did I write another ending? You’re damn right. Enjoy another finale as I try to decide what I’m doing next because I dunno...

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

masterlist

The red dress slid up on your thigh as you crossed your legs. You tapped your bottom lip with your fingertips. The radio buzzed with some British punk group you’d never heard of as Thor gripped the wheel and reclined. You sensed his quick peek over at you and looked back from the corner of your eye.

You were anxious even if you were confident. You had no idea what Bucky had planned but you knew that this trip wouldn’t go as smooth as expected. You sighed and leaned back as you dropped your arm and uncrossed your legs. You had to get Thor off-guard, it was simple enough to distract him.

You let your hand trail along your thigh and took a deep breath so your chest rose. Your hem slipped up even further and you closed your eyes. He hummed and you tried not to grin. You knew he was fighting to watch the road and not you. The moment you appeared in the short red number and matching lipstick, he was on the hook.

“Long ride,” he said coyly, “it’ll be nice to get away, eh?”

“From those two? Any day,” you answered as you opened your eyes, “I’ve just been so…” you let your fingers dangle down between your thighs and quickly retracted it as if it wasn’t at all deliberate, “tense.”

“My brother can be a handful and that American,” he said, “I can see how you’d be so worked up.”

You squirmed and pushed your knees further apart. His hand suddenly clapped down on your thigh and he squeezed. He glanced in the rearview and you bit your lip. You rested your hand on his and felt his fingers go rigid.

“Loki--

“He doesn’t know about before, he won’t know now,” Thor growled as he kneaded your leg.

“I don’t know…” you let your voice trail off, “he’s already so mad at me--”

“I won’t say a word,” he purred.

You swallowed and watched your own fingers. You had to do it. It would dull his defenses. You urged his hand up your skirt and pushed your pelvis forward on the seat. He barely kept the car steady as he felt your bare cunt.

“Oh, honey, you want it badly, don’t you?” he pushed between your folds without hesitation, “no panties…”

“Habit. Your brother demands it,” you rasped as he rubbed your clit. You couldn’t help but quiver.

He was quiet as he kept his fingers moving and listened to your shuddering breaths. You played them up with moans and groans as you arch your back and gripped the door.

“If you prefer me, I could…” his fingertips slickened as they explored further and he prodded along your entrance, “I could take you away. You’ll be far enough before he even knows.”

“Oh…” you gasped, “but… why would you… do that?”

“Look at you, honey,” he taunted, “that cunt--” he shoved a finger into you as he leaned awkwardly over the space between your seats, straining to keep his gaze on the road, “I can’t even fault my brother for his distraction.”

“God,” you squeezed his hand between your thighs as he pushed another finger into you.

It became less of an act as you latched onto his wrist and rocked your hips. His thick digits filled you and curled as the tide rolled through you. You were close to cumming, all the better as he had to buy into your desperation.

“You’ll really take me away?” you whined, “really? I have no other way out but-- you.”

“If you fuck me like you fuck my hand, I’ll keep you forever, honey,” he snarled.

You exclaimed and covered his hand with yours as you tilted against him hungrily. You dug your heels into the floor and lifted your pelvis slightly as you came against his palm. He snickered at your delight and let you ride his hand until you finished.

You fell back limp and he reluctantly removed his hand from your cunt. He reached blindly up and pressed his fingers against your lips. You braced yourself and took in his fingers and sucked your taste off of them. He drew away and sat back in his seat as he rubbed the front of his pants.

“Did you mean it?” you asked as you felt between your legs.

“Fuck my brother. We’ll leave right now,” he said, “I always did like his toys better.”

“We should stop by the shop,” you murmured, “I know where he keeps his stash.”

“His stash?”

“You could have everything that’s his,” you whispered, “everything.”

He considered the suggestion and exhaled. His squinted through the windshield and groaned.

“When we get to the shop, I want you on that desk,” he said as he continued to play with himself, “can’t wait to fuck you in that little dress.”

“I can’t either,” you reached to his lap and he caught your hand.

“No,” he said, “I want to see it all.”

You retracted your arm and pouted. You hugged yourself and shivered dramatically. He glanced over at you again.

“That day in the office, I haven’t stopped thinking of it,” he said, “I can see you’ve suffered just as much as me.”

Your smirk was interrupted by the sudden veering of the car at the impact of another. You cried out as the rubber screeched over the road. The car skidded over the lanes and turned horizontal with the rest of traffic. Another bump on the tail and you were rolling. The airbag deployed and blinded you as the glass and metal crunched past the railing and into the ditch.

You panted in shock as the vehicle stilled at last and you felt along your face and body. There was blood dripping from your hairline and some aches in your neck and back, but you could move and you were alive. You put your palm against the roof and unbuckled the belt and kept from falling on your head. The welts of the restraints burned at your chest and waist.

You squatted and looked over at Thor. He hung from his seat but there was much more blood on him and his blond hair was stained with it. You crawled out through the window and fell into the dirt.

You heard footsteps as they carefully descended the incline and you looked up as a silhouette neared and came clearer. Steve approached the other side of the car and bent to look in the driver side. You heard his voice as he poked the unconscious man inside and he stood again.

“Get up,” he demanded as he came to you, “no time to waste.”

“What?” you let him pull you to your feet, “you were supposed to be at the shop--”

“We’ll get there,” he dragged you up to the rail and stepped over.

You struggled to get over the metal barrier yourself and he nearly had you off your feet as he thrust you towards his waiting car. He opened the passenger door and pointed you inside. You dropped into the seat and touched your sore neck. He closed the door and rounded to his side.

“What’s going on? Bucky said--”

“Bucky wants to make sure you’re not fucking with him,” Steve interrupted and his eyes fell to your skirt. You barely realised how high it was as you were still spinning from the crash.

“You could’ve killed me--”

“You’re a smart girl. You had your seatbelt on,” he said as he bent between the seats and fixed your dress, his fingers lingering on the fabric, “we’ve got a whole day… we get the money and have some fun while Bucky takes care of that other moron.”

“Money?” you asked.

“You’re his little bookkeeper, I’m sure you have the combination to that safe he keeps nestled in the back of the shithole,” he turned the engine and pulled out from the gravel, “a healthy price for your… defection.”

“Fine,” you said coolly, “I’ll help you get it. But what about Lopez?”

“I’ll take care of that fat fuck but that’s another debt,” he replied.

You were quiet as you rubbed your shoulder and tried to clear your head. You were slightly dizzy but fought through it as you tried to redirect your plot. There was still a way out of this. You just had to deal with this idiot instead.

“That day in the club… Fucking Buck, he can be so selfish but I think I’ve waited long enough,” he hissed, “you don’t even know what you haven’t had, sweetheart.”

You looked at him and he met your eyes briefly. You fought not to show your disgust and just batted your lashes.

“Do we have to wait?” you asked as you shook off the cobwebs.

“Hmm--” his voice caught in his throat as you stretched between your seats and touched the front of his pants, “oh.”

He squeezed the steering wheel as you leaned over and rubbed his crotch until you felt it harden. “We’re not far,” you said and held in a grunt as a pang stabbed your neck, it wasn’t as intense as before, “but we have time.”

“Sweet--”

“This is what you wanted… Bucky won’t like it--”

“He won’t know,” Steve interjected, “shit, I can’t--”

You unzipped his pants and he went silent. You slipped your hand down his boxers and pulled out his dick. You stroked him as the noise of the traffic flowed around the car. You held him firmly and moved your hand. It would end soon enough.

He groaned and tensed as you worked him steadily. You’d learned to read men, to use them. They did the same to you but they taught you just as much. The only way out was their own tricks. As you sensed him nearing his release, you placed your lips around his tip and swirled your tongue.

He gasped and his foot pushed down the pedal. You moaned around him and moved your hand faster and faster. It sickened you but you had to commit. You couldn’t let him see through the cracks.

He came in a hot spurt and you struggled to swallow it down without gagging. You sank until he poked at your throat and drank him in. His legs shook and he swore as you lapped up the last of his cum and pulled off of him with a pop.

You sat up, dizzier than before and wiped your lips. He shifted in his seat and brought one hand away from the wheel to zip himself back up. He sniffed and rolled his shoulders.

“That was fuckin’ good,” he said, “I see why Bucky didn’t give up.”

“You know what he’ll do if he finds out,” you said sharply.

“Oh, you can keep me quiet, sweetie,” he said with a crooked grin, “just like that.”

You closed your eyes and collected yourself as he took the ramp and you readied yourself for what came next. You didn’t know if you could do it, if it would work at all. You’d come this far though and couldn’t turn back. If you failed, with all that happened, it would only be worse than before. So you couldn’t.

You watched the streets of New York and as you got closer to the antique shop, you had to keep your hands from shaking. The adrenaline buzzed inside of you. Your mouth was dry and your limbs felt numb. You peered over at Steve as he pulled up to the curb and he looked over at the façade.

“Stay behind me,” he winked as he reached to his belt and unholstered his gun, “I got Lopez. You head for the safe.”

He got out and you did the same. You circled the car as he headed for the front door with his gun low against his thigh. He grabbed the handle and pulled. He raised his hand before he entered and you stayed back as the gunshot echoed from inside. You felt a twinge in your chest; you liked Lopez but he was one of them.

You followed and let the door fall closed behind you. Steve laughed to himself and nodded you ahead of him. You went silent, past the chipped statue and that old grandfather clock.

The office was stolid and still. It brought back a sense of nostalgia and yet felt like a prison. Steve entered behind you as he tucked his gun away.

“Better hurry,” he muttered, “too bad I made so much noise or we could stick around… maybe you could finish what you started.”

“We’ll go somewhere else,” you shrugged as you looked around and went behind Loki’s desk.

You pulled out the drawers and pretended to search. Really you were wasting time, trying to put Steve off alert. He watched and crossed his arms.

“What are you doing?” he grumbled.

“Just making sure we’re not missing anything,” you slid shut the drawer, “whatever, nothing there.”

You went to the cabinet and rolled over your office chair. Steve sat in Loki’s cushioned leather seat and leaned back as you opened the cabinet and bent behind the door and began to wind the numbers. He put his feet up and tossed around a glass orb that usually sat on Loki’s desk.

You turned the handle and the loud metal clank filled the office. You reached inside and pulled out a money bag and loaded it up with the stacks of bills within. You zipped it up and tossed it over the door and it landed on the desk heavily.

Steve sat up as he smiled at the thick pouch. You shoved your arm back in the safe and pulled out the gun on the higher shelf, stowed with the priceless Victorian pocket watch and a pair of diamond cufflinks.

You stood as Steve took the bag and sat straight. His face paled with surprise as you pulled the trigger and the bullet opened his chest. The chair wobbled under him as he dropped the money and gave a brittle croak.

His hand went to the wound across his front and you kicked shut the safe. You swept around and bent to pick up the money bag. Steve trembled as the blood pulsed from him and the chair creaked.

“Pity,” you said with a smile, “looks like you did miss something.”

You angled the gun and admired it as you hugged the cloth pouch under your arm. You shrugged and left him to his death thralls. You went out into the front room and stopped at the rack of gauche vintage coats. You pulled one on and hid the gun in the inner pocket as you secreted the money in the sleeve.

You exited and stepped out onto the sidewalk. You blotted away the dried blood along your forehead as your heels clicked and you blended into the steady New York foot traffic. You were done running from behind. You would be out of the city before anyone thought to look for you and with the bulk of Loki’s savings you would always be a step ahead.

👄👄👄

End

170 notes · View notes

jaykayblr · 3 years

Text

And it went like ; Doyoung | One-shot

Pairing : Doyoung × Reader

Genre : fluff, strangers to friends to lovers au, college/university au, mutual pining, café is kinda main here.

Warnings : slapping, crying, teeny bit of angst, kissing. Don't worry it isn't anything extreme.

Summary : it all started with two cups of iced americano.

Word count : 2.7k

Taglist : @starrdustville @thechoppersan @cupidluvstarrz @ncvltrtchnlgy @jenoleemonade @bluejaem

Author's note : ahh, this is my first One-shot. Based loosely on request that @starrdustville sent in my previous blog. Leave a comment to let me know what you feel about this one. I have worked for this one for a week and I am kinda proud of my improvement but I feel I could have done better now that I have read it almost ten times, but lemme know what you all think!. I hope you all like it! If there are any mistakes, please let me know.

You glance up from the screen of the mobile to greet the orbs of the male who had entered the class. The brown eyes roamed through your face and then looked away, choosing a place in the class’s backward.

Mysterious brown eyes were the first thing you noticed about the new transfer student. He was aloof, remaining silent throughout the class. You could never find him chatting with anybody. He consistently preferred taking the last seat in the class. He was suave, with soft boyish qualities. You had been looking at him at whatever chance you received for the recent few days. It was challenging to not acknowledge him; the dude had silky soft hair through which he would run his hand occasionally throughout the class. The transfer student wore dark colors, which made him appear even more alluring than the rest of your class boys. He was lean and was taller than you.

Straightening yourself when the professor started the class, you forced your mobile away.

Focused, the educator went on about defining the antique architecture of Rome. It was an interesting subject - but you found yourself gawking at the new student. It looked as if he acknowledged your stare, because there was a slight smirk stretching on his cheeks when you continued gawking at him for two solid minutes. You glanced forward and tried paying regard to your lecturer.

Same routine, but different.

You are carrying two drinks of iced Americano in your hands. The route you picked was busy with the science graduates bustling out of their classes. You should’ve kept your eyes up to prevent what was about to happen. You soon knocked into a hard chest with your Americano staining the said man’s hoodie. Before you could lose your balance, a pair of sturdy hands holding your arms held you. You couldn’t speak. As you realized the situation, you backed away to bow towards the guy - to sputter an apology, until you hear that man’s voice.

“Calm down, woman,”

You couldn’t convey anything. You were so enthralled by the individual’s voice that you forgot your locations. His voice was deep and silvery. The phrase sounded unfamiliar to you, coming from him. His accent was mind-numbingly hot - even if you had heard only two words coming out of his mouth. You view up to examine the new guy from your class. His eyes have a playful glint at them, as he grins at your obvious staring. You quickly move backward and apologize to him.

“I am sorry. I am so sorry, oh god I am so sorry” you bow to him multiple times. You gain the attention of the surrounding science graduates who chuckle to themselves but keep moving. He catches you by your arms again and interrupts you from bowing to him again and again and instinctively makes your heart thump a thousand times faster than ever.

“It’s fine, I will clean it and it will be fine”

“At Least let me help you clean it, please?” you asked, and he nodded.

That was a year ago.

Currently, it’s the fourth year of your college and you and doyoung are two best buddies. In this one year, you both have turned into devoted friends who can’t live without each other. Sounds cheesy, yes, but that is exactly how it is.

[From doyoung; ]

WhErE ArE YoU?!

You chuckle seeing your mobile screen flash with his messages. Sitting in your economics lecture right now, learning something about marketing. You look around to see if anyone is looking at you. The half the students paying attention to the professor and the other half are sleeping or doing their own thing. You glance at your professor who was extremely focused on teaching the first benchers. You quickly type a reply.

[To doyoung; ]

In class! What do you want?

You hear the buzzing on your phone after a few minutes.

“Your boyfriend is texting you” your seatmate mutters beside you and you just chuckle - not at her but at the constant buzzing of your phone showing that your best friend is turning impatient.

[From doyoung; ]

Which one?

When will it end?

Ah, respond!

[To doyoung; ]

God! Doyoung!

Economics and in 15 minutes.

It wasn’t late until you heard three more buzzes from your phone. Your seatmate - somi wriggles her eyebrows at you.

[From doyoung; ]

So there is this new cafe near our college.

I want to go!

Please come with me?

[To doyoung; ]

Ok, fine.

Pick me up from the football court.

[From doyoung; ]

Yes, madam!

“You both are one weird pair” you flinch when you see somi snooping at your phone over your shoulders.

“Then stay away from us,” you say and put your phone inside your pocket.

“Just confess to him. His female admirers are increasing day by day. Only yesterday I saw Jasmine confessing to him.”

“Wait what?!” you almost shout, gaining the attention of the professor and a few students. The professor glares at you and goes back to teaching.

“Yes, and don’t worry, he rejected her” she rolls her eyes as you sigh in relief.

“But it will not always happen. Listen, if you don’t confess to him, he will eventually start dating someone else,” she says with a stern look, as if she is scolding you.

“I know, but can you please not scare me? I am just nervous! We have been friends for so-” somi cuts you off.

“You all have been friends for a year and you don’t Wanna ruin it and end this friendship by confessing, right?” she says and you nod while looking down. “Baby, if you don’t let him know your feelings, he will always think of you as a friend. Is that ok? He will eventually start dating some other girl. Is that ok with you? Are you ok with seeing him with another girl?”

You shake your head. She was right; has always been. Somi always told you to confess to doyoung, but you really didn’t want to ruin the relationship you had with doyoung. He was the most precious person in your life. And it has been like that for a year now.

Doyoung had shown no interest in any other girls - including you. So you never really thought about the possibility of him dating. But now as somi stated this possibility - it made your heartache. It made you experience a weird heaviness in your chest that you couldn’t exactly pinpoint.

Were you really ok with that? Are you ok with seeing him in the arms of another girl? Were you ok not taking up the chance to date him? Were you ok giving him up? Would he reject you? Or would he reciprocate your feelings? Are you really ok with taking up the risk?

These thoughts swirl your mind as the class gets dismissed.

You and somi get up and walk towards the exit when somi stops in front of you and looks you in the eye.

“Do it before it’s too late. Time doesn’t wait for anyone” and she leaves like that - provoking something in you.

Maybe it’s about time you do something about it.

Standing near the football court, you watch some guys from the foreign communications playing football. Their loud cheers surround the campus. You sit near the benchers thinking deeply about the risk of confessing to doyoung.

Somi’s words ring in your head. You feel a pang of jealousy in your chest when you imagine doyoung with another girl.

"Ha!" you flinch and look behind to see doyoung laughing like he won a trophy for scaring you.

"Ahh, you scared me!" he internally coos at the little pout you made without realising it.

"Lets go?"

The fragrance of vanilla hits your nostrils the moment you step inside the cafeteria. The little bell rang, alerting the barista of your arrival. A grey-haired barista looked towards both of you and grinned. You glanced around; the cafe was bustling with people. The chattering of young couples, friends, and teenagers filled in the shop.

Intertwining his hand with yours, Doyoung pulled you towards a corner seat. As you both settled, the same barista walked up towards you two.

“what can I serve this fascinating couple today?” she chirped in a very calm voice.

You were going to deny her assumption but doyoung cut you.

“so what are you having?” he inquired, propping himself on his forearms.

“um, I guess, caffe latte?”

“ah-ha! I was considering the same!” he looked towards the barista “two caffe latte please?”

“sure, anything else?” she asked, her eyes creasing at the sides as she beamed at you two. Returning the smile you looked towards Doyoung with a raised eyebrow as if asking him ‘do you need something more?’. he glanced at the menu card in front of him. “hmm, croissants?”

"coming up," she exclaims and goes back to her work.

"and oh, this time I’m offering to pay!" as soon as you announce that, doyoung’s expression changes to a frown, demonstrating his displeasure. Before he can say anything, you resonate "whenever we go out, you never let me pay! This time I’m paying and I don’t wish to hear any disagreements!"

"Y/nnnn" he whines and you shake your head at him.

Falling in comfortable silence, you both listen to the soft jazz playing on the radio of the cafeteria. After a few minutes, doyoung glances at you, hesitance apparent on his face.

“what happened?” you urge him. He just shakes his head and busies himself by looking at his nails. You want to question him further, but you see the same barista walking up to you with your orders.

Placing it on the table, she leaves while smiling at you both.

"I assume she likes us," doyoung whispers while slurping his latte.

"don’t change the topic, doyoung. what happened?" you urge him, with your voice stern.

“have you ever thought about dating y/n?” you freeze when he asks that. Luckily, he is looking downwards, so he can’t read your expressions cause he is good at that.

“mm, why?” you start feeling anxious when he doesn’t speak.

He sighs and shakes his head, mumbling a ‘nothing’. you grow more frustrated at that.

As you swirl your fingers around the brim of your cup. Your thoughts going insane, ‘does he love someone?’ ‘is he thinking of dating?’ ‘am I too late to confess?’ you feel your eyes brimming with nervous tears. You face away from him when he looks at you.

“Y/n, I wanted to ask you something?” you look at him in the eye, and wish that he won’t notice your wet eyes. He slowly takes your hands in his, his thumb gently brushing over your fingers. He looks down and takes a breath.

“I want you to keep quiet and let me finish, ok?” you nod at him, not speaking anything cause you know he will pick up your emotions from the tone of your voice. He sighs and moves closer to you.

“y/n, I have- I have, um, I realize we have only known each other for a year, but this one year has been the best year of my existence. I have never laughed so frequently in my life. I’m grateful for everything you have done for me and- and just- I am just grateful for this friendship. Listen, I hope this doesn’t sound too sudden. And I hope nothing changes in our relationship after this. But- I-” he halts and takes a deep breath. You instinctively hold his hand tight as you predict his next sentence. Your tears threaten to pour as you shut your eyes in order to hold them back. Your heart thuds in your ribcage and you pant. You glance at the ground to avoid breaking down in front of him as he tells you about his girlfriend. You hear him let out an unsteady sigh and-

“y/n I Love You!”

You couldn’t stop the tears that gushed out from your eyes. You sink back on the backrest and cover your face with your hands and cry your heart out. Your cries fill the cafe as everyone becomes silent and looks at you. You cry louder as you realize he likes you back, your best friend likes you back, doyoung loves you.

On the other hand, Doyoung panics when you cry, he loses his calm when you cry louder. His eyes swell with tears as he thinks that he fucked up royally to make you cry like this. He knew it was a terrible decision. He knew you didn’t like him back, but he still took the risk and ended up making you cry. You got emotional easily but never had you cried so loudly as you did now. He avoids the pointed stares of the people who scowl at him for making a girl cry like that and goes down on his knees towards your chair. He tries to hold your hand but you just tighten them on your face. His tears fall as he holds the armrest of your seat and turns you towards him. Gently but firmly he removes your hand from your face and his heart shatters when he looks at your tear filled face. He feels a pang of guilt in his heart. What was he expecting? you evidently didn’t love him back? He holds your hands and starts crying with you. The people around both of you watch this scene unfold, some looking annoyed and some watching with pity.

“I’m very sorry y/n,” he sniffs “I didn’t mean to make you cry,” his voice is heavy as he swallows hard. “I don’t know what I was thinking when I said that” he gulps again, “you clearly don’t love me-“ you cut him off as you slap him. His left cheek stings as his face falls. The people in the cafe gasp. doyoung looks down as the realization dawns over him. ‘he screwed up, he ruined everything’.

“stand up” your voice is small but commanding and he obeys. He looks down as he gets up.

“look at me” and he obeys but gasps when you kiss him hard on his lips. You are holding the collars of his black shirt with which you pull him closer towards you. A loud cheer fills the cafe and the people shout and scream while watching this dramatic scene unfold in front of their eyes. He comes back into reality and pulls you closer and kisses you back passionately, erupting an even louder cheer from the audience. You wrap your arms around his neck and his arms take their place on your waist. You both kiss as if you were waiting for this - which was also true.

You both pull away and break into laughter. The surrounding people are smiling, some are even taking videos. The couples peck each other, the old barista smiles widely and her eyes shine in adoration.

“so does this mean…”

“yes” you respond with a wide smile adorning your face. doyoung brings his hand to cup your cheek.

“from how long?”

“a year,” you say, making him smile. “what about you?”

“one year too”

“so I guess we both are idiots?” you ask, chuckling.

“hmm”

“you are late. But I will forgive you for that if you agree to be my boyfriend.” he chuckles at that.

“deal” he asks and pulls you closer.

You bring your palm to cup his left cheek. “does it hurt?” you ask, and he nods whispering ‘badly’ near your cheek. “I’m sorry,” you say and pull away to look in his eyes to show your honesty.

“It’s fine. You can make it up to me,” he says, pulling you closer again.

“how?” you ask.

“kiss me,” he says and you don’t waste a single second more to kiss him feverishly.

the cheers roar loudly, again.

love...

174 notes · View notes

sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years

Text

Sweet Honey and Iced Tea (Part 2): Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.3k

tw: none

masterlist

inspired by "coffee" by Miguel (OH GOD THIS TURNING INTO A SERIES PLEASE SOMEONE STOP ME)

"What would your father think about your behavior last night?"

You stare at your mother, headache mounting, and sigh.

"Dad's in a coma, so he can't think," you reply, rubbing your temples. "Besides, isn't it a good thing to be seen with rival clans?"

"No!" she yells, standing up from her seated position behind the mahogany desk.

"Don't get worked up," her adviser warns, and she sits down, running her tongue over her teeth.

"Your father would be mortified if he saw you fraternizing with a lesser clan, especially one that's tormented our family for generations with their... underground activities." Your phone buzzes in your lap, and you look down at it, seeing an unknown number scroll across the screen.

1 New Text Message

"Are you even listening to me?"

"Yeah," you grumble. "I just don't see the issue. If we can absorb a lesser clan into ours, wouldn't we just become more powerful?"

"At the cost of a fruitful marriage to a more powerful clan?"

"I never said marriage," you retort, and your mother scoffs, waving her hand at you.

"I know how Toji Fushiguro looks at you. Every clan head meeting we've attended, he's been right there, trying his best to get your attention. We all see it." You frown, shaking your head slowly.

"Toji's just a friend."

"Sure," your mother replies. "And let's hope it stays that way."

He's just a friend... you think to yourself as you walk around in the backyard. We just got drunk and explored the dynamic, is all.

You open your messages and look at the newest one, reading the text once, twice, and then a third time.

It's Toji. Just wanted to make sure you got home okay; you left before I could give you a ride.

I'm good, you reply. Just got chewed out by my mother for even being near you lol

You send it and save his number under the name "T. Fushiguro" before your phone buzzes again.

Meet me at the school courtyard at 7. I really have to talk to you about everything.

You consider replying and telling him "no," but then you know you won't get some answers to questions you'd been thinking about. So you reply, "sounds good." and leave it at that.

_____________________________________________________________

The fountain provides a nice perch for you while waiting for Toji to appear with his brooding green eyes and dark hair. And he does, right at seven pm, wearing a black hoodie and holding his car keys in his right hand. When he sees you, his eyes turn from brooding to soft and he holds his empty hand out, looking you over from head to toe.

"Let's go for a drive."

He's silent as you ride in his Charger, navigating the streets with precision and speed while the radio plays grunge rock in the background. You can feel the night before between you, the passion and tenderness Toji willingly showed you blooming out of his coldness, like a Scorpionweed growing from clay soil.

"We need to talk," he finally mutters, parking in an empty field. You turn to him, examining his face for any sign of displeasure. When you see nothing but thoughtfulness, you relax. But only a little. "I don't know if you've taken time to really think about our little situation."

"I have," you assert, looking at your shoes. "It's not hard to imagine how both of our families feel about--"

"Forget family. I'm talking about how you feel." You look up at Toji, who arches a perfect brow at you. "What do you want out of life?"

You'd never really thought about this. What did you want out of life? Other than becoming the family head, what would you do? Live life in service to others? No.

"I want to be able to do what I want, regardless of how my family feels about it." Toji gives you a smile, nodding.

"And... last night? Did you do what you want?"

Yes.

You imagine the look on your face is enough of an answer, because then he smirks, reaching into his backseat for something. He hands you a rectangular black box, tied tightly with a black ribbon and the signature of a famous designer on the front.

"Toji..." you breathe, and he waves his hand dismissively.

"Consider it my graduation present to you."

"But I--"

"Your little rice cake was enough of a present. That was the first time anyone had been nice to me and expected nothing in return." You unlace the bow and slide the top off the box, revealing a gold chain and sphere pendant necklace. At a closer look, the pendant is made from malachite, which just so happens to be the same color as Toji's eyes.

"Just something for you to wear whenever." You loop it around your neck, but struggle with the clasp, and Toji motions for you to turn around so he can place it on you. When he finishes, he smooths his hands over your shoulders and presses a kiss to your neck before pulling back. "There's more." You shift the black cloth aside and a stack of folded-up notes are presented to you. They're wrapped together with a rubber band, and you frown, picking up the pile carefully.

"What're the--" You realize where these notes are from, and Toji shifts back against his car door, looking at you blankly with crossed arms. "It was you?"

"You would've known if you took the time to read them." You undo the rubber band around the stack and take the top one, unfolding it right then and there.

Y/n,

Saw you as I almost got my ass handed to me during my final initiation last week. I know you'll never read these, but seeing you there made me remember reminded me of the time you pushed me down on the ground and I scraped my knee. I could hear you in my head telling me to get up... so I did.

Thanks, I guess. This will be my last little note. I've kind of written these as journal entries to help me make sense of my feelings... but now that my dad's dead but now that we're going to be seniors, I can't pay Gojo to keep quiet and pass these to you. Hopefully, I'll get the guts up to come and talk to you someday.

T. Fushiguro

"How long?" you wonder, letting your hand fall to your lap.

"How long what? Have I been writing those?"

"No," you mumble as you fold the paper back up neatly. "How long have you liked me?"

"Since the day you pushed me. But it was innocent back then; not really comparable to how I feel now." You take this information in and then turn back to him, confused.

"What happened with your little groupies?"

"Nothing, they were just status symbols. Made me look less suspicious and gained points with my associates. You were right; we wouldn't have gained brownie points being friends with each other," he grumbles, placing his hands on the steering wheel. "But I have options now that I'm the head of my clan and calling the shots."

"Right," you state, putting the letters back into the box. "You have options."

"I didn't mean it like that," Toji sighs, rubbing his left brow. "I mean that many of my choices come without questioning now. And as far as I'm concerned, you're the only woman I can see myself being with for the long haul."

"Are you just saying all of this so you can add me to the notches on your belt? You know: virgin girl and an experienced boy makes for a fun tale with your buddies and--" Toji hums, raising his brow again, and you shut up, staring back at him.

"No. As a matter of fact..." he pulls out his phone, typing into it for a minute before putting it away. "I'm taking you out tomorrow. On a date."

"Um," you whisper. "But my parents---"

"Don't have to know it's me. Just get dressed up nice and come outside when I pull up." Toji starts the car and pulls out of the field. "And don't worry, I'm not going to take advantage of you. Everything you do will be your own choice."

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu kaisen #jjk

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junova · 3 years

Text

↬ 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐭 | 𝐬. 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

abstract: the one where steve finds your love letters.

pairing: au!steve x fem!reader

word count: 3K+

warnings: cussing, fluff, angst, crying, slight self-deprecation.

[author’s note]: hey guys! i’m really new to the writing scene so kind words are appreciated! srsly just testing my writing style out and wanted to just post something to motivate me to keep writing. hope u like it. <3

also thank u ari for the inspo and that bomb ass album that saved twenty-twenty. now we just need biden to get elected.

ps. don’t forget to vote! <3

Stevie,

First and foremost, I want you to know how proud of you I am. You have become the man you’ve said you become, the one I always knew you would. You have finally seen what the rest of us see.

A good man.

The soul you carry within you shines brighter than I’ve ever seen. Just for that only, I’m thankful for the time we’ve spent together. Maybe one day, I’ll be brave enough to tell you this without hiding behind the comfort of this notebook. She won’t spill my secrets, fortunate for me.

Some days you have no idea how badly I want to tell you. I think it’s on the days I discover a new fleck of green in your eyes or maybe when you show up to class with a cup of coffee for me without request.

More. More. More.

It’s selfish of me, that much I know. More days than not, I would say you give too much of yourself away. Always wanting to appease everyone, you, Steven Rogers, the bridge to making the people around you happier than they walked in. Even when Bucky drags you into his nonsense bullshit, you say yes without hesitation.

I’ve got not a a clue on how you continue on, how you still remain you when you tend to spread yourself so thin. Who watches out for you? Who cares for you? Who loves the almighty, selfless Rogers?

For me, it’s much easier to pretend you carry too much on your plate than to deal with the rejection I would receive from you. You’re just too good, more than I deserve. More than I would be willing to take. I know I couldn’t possibly give you what you deserve but, I hope that one day you might see me differently. You would see me more than the light I’ve painted myself in.

Even though the shade is lovely, I want to be deeper. Deeper into you on a level which only seems unattainable at this point.

A forever friend. To be in your life, just as a friend, is an reward in itself.

But someday I hope you would love me in the same way I do. It’s all a love struck girl could do. Hope for the best, bet be prepared for the downfall.

With much love, your forever friend.

Tearing the page away from the binding of the overfilled notebook, dispensing it in the first empty drawer you could find, you abandoned the feelings as soon as the pen’s ink bleed out dry.

“You know it would just be easier to tell him how you feel.” You peaked up at the sound of her voice, before realizing she was looming over you, watching your write the letter.

Your supposed, secret letter.

“Nat, please. No.” Opening the drawer, she grabbed the letter but was surprised with just how many she found.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You’ve written about him multiple times?” You sank in the soft, plush material of your seat hoping that just maybe it would begin to swallow you whole. Hopefully, fast enough were you wouldn’t have to endure the rest of the conversation. One you had been trying to avoid, for the past three years.

“It’s nothing Nat, just forget it.” Just like a Romanov, she couldn’t leave it alone. Even if she tried it was laced in her blood to see any little thing through.

“You really shouldn’t wait so long. A window might close for you, much sooner than you think.” With a curious eyebrow lifted, you felt your breath leave you.

“What does that supposed to mean?” Steve certainly deserved the best and you knew it was only time for him to figure out you would never be enough for him.

“Peggy Carter.” Peggy.

The one girl of a sea of many who had been enamored by Steve. He never really seemed to spend anytime with the women who vied for his attention, but Peggy was surely different than the rest.

Even if Steve was oblivious when it came to the advances everyone would make on him, he saw Peggy. Considering she was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen, she intimidated you. God, did she ever.

On numerous occasions she and Steve had gone out, and even though he assured you they were just friends you were starting to believe he was only trying to protect your feelings. As a friend.

He had never cancelled on you once for her and he would tell you if he had started to date someone, just like he had before.

Even though the entire three years you’d known him he only had one serious girlfriend and after eight months, the pair broke up and even now he still didn’t budge on why they broke up.

“Steve can do whatever he wants with her. He’s a single man. He’s gone out with her before and he’ll probably go with her again.” Then Sam was the next to speak up, dismissing the total bullshit spouting from your mouth.

“Can’t you see he doesn’t want to? The damn man follows you around like a goddamn puppy.” Okay, when did he even come in here?

“God, fuck, no he doesn’t. He would have said something by now, he’s had three years and it’s been nothing but radio silence.” With an all knowing smirk, Sam proposed a new concept into question.

“It has been three years. So, have you ever said anything to him?”

Shit. Fuck you, Wilson.

“W-Well, not exactly.” Sam didn’t have to say anything in response. You knew he was right and you hated it.

Your unwillingness still stood for you, there was just no way he actually would reciprocate your feelings.

“Listen, I think it would be really good for the both of you to air everything out. Peggy is sinking her claws in him and it isn’t too long before they get stuck. Just talk to him.” You nodded silently, but you weren’t sure if you’d ever have the courage to.

—

Emptiness.

It’s all you seemed to feel today. Following you around was a dark cloud, looming over you. Wishing you could be anywhere but your own body. Nothing in particular happened to make you deserve the feeling you were granted with. It just so happened to be one of those days.

From the moment you got out of bed — or rather stayed in bed until four in the afternoon, you felt like anything you would have done just didn’t feel enough. The feeling was fleeting, never staying for more than a day or so, but it made the day drag on. Never ending.

Your muscles sore, body aching from the lack of activity your presumed. Or maybe you had built it in your head too.

Thankfully for you, Nat was busy helping Bucky move into his new place the entire day. She asked if you wanted to help, but mentally you didn’t feel you would be useful for anyone. Simply, telling her you would hang back, claiming you had another an essay to write.

Which you did, you weren’t completely lying, but there was more than your sour mood to blame for your dismissal of social interaction.

You hated to be that girl, the one who needed the presence of men. Specifically, the company of one very beautiful, blue eyed one.

His absence in your life the past few weeks felt heavier on you than you thought it would. You knew from Sam’s intel he had been hanging out with Peggy more and more. He said the two of them were getting close, mercifully sparing you the details.

You hated it’s you’d become. A girl so damn struck over a boy who was giving his attention elsewhere. Upset you were though. Before even if he was busy between classes and his internship at the gallery, he would still text to check up on you.

Now, it was nothing but radio silence letting you draw conclusions on your own. Very, very dangerous territory for you to travel to.

Steve and you are just friends. Get. Over. It.

You thought you’d be alone the rest of the Saturday, especially since it was nearly midnight. Figuring Nat was staying over at Bucky’s and Wanda leaving earlier in early hours of the morning to see her boyfriend for the entire weekend.

Then, an incredibly drunk Steve stumbled into your quaint apartment, the thoughtfully sweetness in him blubbering out with the alcohol flooding through his system. It was like he was on overdrive. More than ready to crash at any given moment.

You had enough when Steve started shamelessly raiding your kitchen, but you remained on the couch attempting to maintain some distance between the two of you. He had a history of being incredibly handsy whenever he had bit too much to drink.

Stumbling his way over to you, almost tripping on the rug, until he was basically cuddling up to your side. His arms latched tightly around you, pulling you into him. Not spared a choice, not that you’d want one.

The security of being wrapped up to him wasn’t something you ever grew tired of. You don’t think there would ever be a time you would ever be capable of turning him away.

“I’ve missed you. It’s been too long.” His soft tone, penetrating the tiny resistance you held towards him. “Me too. I was starting to think you disappeared on me, bubba.”

“Never.” His iron grip holding so tight like he was afraid you’d slip right through.

“Is everything alright?” Trying to pull from him, but Steve seemed unable to let you go. You whispered in his ear, caressing his back.

“I think so.”

“Here, let me grab you cup of joe and some water. Okay? I’ll be right back.” Leaving him a kiss on the cheek, before heading him into the kitchen.

If you had been around him recently, perhaps you would be more in tune with how he was feeling. Then the guilt sept in.

“Sweetheart, do you know where the phone charger is? It’s not by the recliner.” You heard him shout, trying to stop your heart from hammering into your stomach.

Just make him some coffee, sober him up, until he crashes.

Steve always seemed to be a lightweight and somehow whenever he did decide to drink he always found himself routing his way into your home. You thought it was simply for accident alone. The bar he frequented at was only a few block from you.

The past few times he would just stumble into your bedroom, immediately passing out in your soft, silky sheet. Now, he seemed to have more pressing matters at hand.

“Check the drawers, Stevie. I think there’s one you left around here somewhere.” You grabbed the filters and the grounds out, brewing the coffee. Soon, with a black cup of coffee and a water bottle in hand you took note of just how quite he was being.

He was never this silent and it was freaking you out.

“Are you sure you’re o-”

Just like that.

Fuck.

Hunched over, practically on his knees, he read over the endless letters you wrote about him. Confessions never meant to be seen by him. You lost track of how many you had written over the past few years once realized how irrevocably in love with him you are.

He didn’t realize you had found him and you were suddenly paralyzed. Unaware of your presence he continued to read through them and his expression was unrecognizable. One you’d never seen from him before, and you didn’t quite know how to react.

No. He wasn’t grimacing nor did he seem to be elated either. He just stood there just like you, afraid what would happen next.

What did this mean for the two of you? Your entire relationship was purely riding on whatever happened next.

Softly, with a gentle hand, he sifted through them all like he was looking for something specifically. Steve let them fall to the hardwood floors as your shaking hands could no longer support the weight of the dainty coffee cup he had actually sculpted himself.

The glass shattering everywhere, several pieces making their way towards him, thankfully not fiercely enough to penetrate his skin.

Truly, you had never been more sorry than when he looked up at you with tears in his eyes. Threatening to spill over. Because of you.

You didn’t have to be told, you already knew.

Carefully, Steve stood up making his way over to you around the shattered mug. Still you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Simply just watching him until he was right in front of you — more silent than you’d ever seen him before.

“Those were about me. Weren’t they?” You nodded having no reason to lie other than to protect yourself from a rejection you been hoping to spare yourself from.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this. Or at all really.” Your resolve dropping instantly when Steve took a step further gripping by your hips, pulling you closer.

“Why not?” He questioned you, again. Almost like he needed a verbal affirmation of every secret he had just read.

Unintentionally, stealing your soul served for him on a silver platter.

“I know how you’d feel about me, Steve. It’s not how I want it to be and it’s okay.” You remove yourself from him, traveling to the other side of the living room. Suddenly, the apartment seemed suffocating with him in it. “I’m fine, Steve.”

Hearing him sigh in frustration only furthered your immense feeling of being a burden to him.

You’re just one more obstacle he has to deal with.

“One of them dated back for over two years ago. Two fucking years.” His harsh tone, piercing through you like a knife.

“I know. I should have told you.” You whispered, wishing you could disappear into any abyss that would take you. Deeply wishing you just didn’t have to endure for the rest of this conversation. Wishing you could have stopped him from opening that stupid drawer. “I tell you everything, but I just couldn’t bring myself to speak about this. Look at how you’re reacting? How could you blame me when every fear I have about this is justified?”

You really should have kept those elsewhere, not your open, public living room.

“Because it’s us. I’m always here for you.” He was still crying through broken words and you didn’t know why. Almost like you had shattered his resolve and his control leaving with it.

“Not lately. You’ve been otherwise occupied.” Suddenly find the plant in the corner of the room. It certainly weren’t trying to distract yourself from the insatiable cerulean eyes.

The breathtaking british woman wasn’t even here and as soon as she was brought up — there was a wall. Seperating, you from whatever was between the two of you.

“This isn’t my fault. You never said anything. How was I supposed to know you feel that way about me?” He tried to make his way towards you but you just stalked off in the other direction. Circling around the living room like a coward.

“It didn’t matter though, did it? You found someone perfect for you regardless of how you feel.” God, you wish he would just leave so you could let the dam break.

“No. You don’t get to do that. Since the moment I met you I only had eyes for you, but you never seemed like you were interested. So, I dropped it. Okay? You never left me a crumb to think you would ever want to be more than just friends.”

“You were my best friend. You still are. No matter how I felt, it could never outweigh the need I have for you to be in my life.” He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. Trying to figure out what was next for the both of you. Steve always had to initiate and this time was no different.

“Peggy told me tonight she wants to be exclusive.” His confession washing over you like a ton of bricks. Crushing you.

You really couldn’t have any ill feeling towards her, she was just doing what you lacked the courage and the tenacity to do.

“But I didn’t really know what to do.” He took quiet steps towards you, not wanting to spook you. He voice not no longer held the a warmth of teddy bear, but a man on a mission rather took over.

Steve kept quiet until he had you backed up into a corner, no escape route in vision for you.

“’Cause there’s this other beautiful woman, absolutely breathtaking — and I just I really needed to know how she felt. If I had known before, I never would have gone anywhere else.” His hand caressing your soft, plump lips. Pulling on your bottom lip with his thumb, sending you into a frenzy.

“Then, I just wanted to forget about everything until Sam called me. Three beers deep, when he told me of a drawer filled with letters I should take a look at.” You could feel his breath on you, temple pressed against yours.

“I just need to hear you say it. Just once.” Taking it a step forward, intertwining your finger with his own.

“I love you.” It was all he needed as he sealed his own affirmation with a sweet kiss, inking your lips with all of his love.

#for the love of god let these tags work :/#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader fluff #steve rogers x reader angst #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers au #college!steve rogers #au #mcu #mcu fanfiction #fanfiction

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espinosaurusrexex · 3 years

Text

Not Nice

In which Jeff and y/n have a heart to heart conversation about their relationship.

warnings: angst; just really sad, because that's what I do... BUT don’t worry, ya girl put some serious fluff in there, too!

a/n: Hello! God, it’s been a long time... How is everyone doing? I just felt like putting something out there again after not being able to write for so long. I don't know why; and I should actually be working on some term papers, but I found myself writing this so fast. I wrote this, because I felt like it, so it is not request related. I hope there are still some people whose feed this will end up on. I would love some feedback and as always: please enjoy! I hope you didn't forget about me :)

word count: 2.7k

It was a cool California night. Still not cold for February, but enough to send a shiver through your body when stepping outside. Y/n would normally not even consider going out right now, but the situation had called for it. David had called her minutes before, screaming at her through the phone to get her butt over to his house for a big problem that left him sleepless. She had fallen asleep on her desk trying to complete one of the assignments that were due by the end of the semester and basically fell off her chair when her phone rang annoyingly loud in her right ear. To say that she would rather be in her warm bed instead of her cold leather car seat was an understatement. But she knew that not helping David would leave her sleepless for days and seeing that it had already been 4 in the morning, she grabbed her keys and left. She was so tired that the lines on the road kept blurring in different directions. Just a couple more minutes, she thought to keep her focus on the road, but the exhaustion was unbearable at this point. A loud horn drew her back to reality when she accidentally served in the other lane. Shaking and flustered, she pulled over and rubbed her face with her hands aggressively. Pull yourself together Y/n. David needs your help. She looked up again, but the headlights of the few other cars made her eyes hurt, giving her an instant headache. That’s it. She was selfless, but not irresponsible. After searching for her phone in the passenger seat, she dialed Jeff’s number. Why she called him, she didn’t know. It was like an automatic movement to type in his number. The shrill beeping of the phone echoed through her head until Jeff’s sleepy voice broke it. “Are you Ok?“ He sounded confused and his voice reminded her of the time he had a terrible cold. Shit. “Oh my God. I’m sorry I didn’t think about the time. I-,“ but Jeff interrupted his friend with a chuckle. “It’s Ok. I was about to get up anyway.“ There was silence, and Y/n could hear him shuffling out of his bedsheets. “David called me and said he wanted me to help him with something.“ Y/n could almost hear the eye roll on the other line, and if she weren’t so tired, she would have probably laughed at it. “I’m guessing he called you, too?“ It sounded more like a question, but Jeff knew that he was right. “Yeah that’s actually why I called…“ She rested her head on the seat. “I’m on Linkin’ Road and I am too tired to drive… I was wondering… I- Could you maybe pick me up?“ She closed her eyes to focus on her friend’s voice. Jeff was grinning, she could hear it when he agreed to pick her up. Y/n’s heart beat faster at this. It was so insignificant and yet so attractive to her.

A couple minutes passed until Jeff’s car pulled up next to hers, sending vibrations through the floor and back to Y/n’s. She looked up and spotted a grinning man on the driver’s side rolling down the window to throw a holler at her. “Need a ride, beautiful?“ Y/n smiled, trying to hide the butterflies in her stomach. She got into his car taking in his woody scent and buckled up. Jeff threw a blanket over her legs and drove towards David’s house. The Drive was about 20 minutes and spend with Jeff humming to the calm tunes of the radio that sent Y/n straight to sleep. When they finally arrived, he tapped her shoulder lightly. “Y/n wake up. We’re here.“

They both walked into the house and went straight for the living room, where David was probably seated. It was so bright that Y/n had to rub her eyes. As soon as the brunette noticed his friends, he jumped up excitedly. “Now that everyone is finally here…“ It was just now that Y/n noticed that her whole friend group was scattered in the living room, snuggled up with fuzzy blankets or their significant other. Everyone was looking up to David, who was now standing on top of his couch table waving his remote control in the air. “It came to my attention that our dear friend Jeff has a problem.“ His grin grew wider with every word and if Y/n weren’t so exhausted, she would have probably noticed the mischief in David’s eyes. Jeff was looking around the room, trying to figure out if anybody could give him a hint on what was about to happen, and in his mind, a series of problematic things, he had recently done, were playing like a record. „What do you mean?“ He laughed nervously and scooted closer to Y/n. It always calmed him down to feel her next to him. David proceeded to pull his audience’s attention to the TV behind him. A blurry picture showed on the screen, displaying a woman in a tight blue dress and Jeff dancing in a rather inappropriate way. “Jeff, I think someone might have leaked something to the paparazzi.“ Before Y/n could process what was happening, the room filled with laughter. Y/n stood there as if she had turned to stone, too tired to show any form of emotion. She struggled to pull the corners of her mouth into a smile but she felt like throwing up then and there. Why did he not tell me about this? Why is this making me so sad? It was when Jeff’s hand had touched hers, that she was pulled back to reality. A wave of emotions came crushing over her, making her eyes water and her already pounding headache intensify. She was mad for so many reasons. Mad about David for pulling her away from a much-needed sleep by using her good conscience and selflessness to get her to his house for an immature prank that broke her heart. She was mad that she had not realized sooner how much of an impact Jeff actually had on her. And most of all, she was mad about the fact that something so stupid could even make her mad. It was all too much, and Y/n could not hold it any longer. Her thoughts had been weighing her down for too long now, making her feel like collapsing under their pressure. “Y/n are you okay?“ David managed to yell across the room. “What do you think of Jeff’s new girlfriend?“ Those words hit her like a truck. Girlfriend. The word made her shiver. Jeff did not have a girlfriend for the entire time they had known each other and Y/n never had to deal with the possible bother she would get from it. “I think they look great together!“ Someone said and this made Y/n burst. “You wanna know what I think about it?“ Everyone cheered, waiting for Y/n to drop a punch line. “I think that you’re an asshole, David. This is such bullshit!“ Low laughter were heard until David spoke again: “Don’t be such a drag, Y/n/n.“ Y/n tensed up again and Jeff tried to nudge her shoulder in an attempt to calm her down, but she shrugged him off harshly. “You don’t know what it is like to have responsibilities. I am late on two assignments and the average amount of sleep I get each night is about 2 hours. And you know what I ditched those two hours for today? Your fucking stupid prank. You think you can order everyone at any time just to end up on a 4:20 min vlog. You live in some fucked up carefree parallel universe. But guess what! Not everyone has this reality. Grow up, David! I can’t do this anymore. Being your friend is beyond exhausting and you don’t even care. God! You are the worst person I know!“ The room fell silent until a quiet “That was so uncalled for…“ could be heard. Y/n searched the crowd for the source of that statement in vain. “I’m just saying what every-“ But Jeff interrupted her, “Y/n! That’s enough!“ She shot him a dark glimpse and left the house with a shaking head.

Y/n trembled from head to toe when she burst through the door of David’s house and the brisk air hit her skin. She just started to walk with no direction in mind. Her view was blurry from the tears pooling up in her eyes, but she did not care. The exhaustion in her bones was making her body hurt. Y/n did not stop, though. She just walked in hopes of the pain in both her heart and body was going to fade after some time. It felt like hours until she finally stopped. Her feet had lead her to a familiar spot. A small clearing with a beautiful view over the city. She sat down and allowed herself to breathe for the first time in hours. What have I done?

It was still dark when Jeff's Car pulled up on the clearing. He sat in the driver’s seat for a while watching Y/n’s back shake and his heart felt squeezed. He always knew that he had a soft spot for her, but this felt different. Almost too much to process. He took a deep breath and walked up to Y/n, resting his hand on her shoulder once again. She looked up and smiled at him with this glimmering spark of sunshine in her eyes, but this time it wasn’t real. Not genuine enough for her. “I don’t get it. You seem like the happiest person in the world.“ Jeff sat down shaking his head while studying the floor beneath his feet. Y/n looked up. Anger flickered in her eyes as she realized what had slipped out of her friend’s mouth. “You wanna know why I’m always positive? You want to know why I’m always so ‚nice‘?“ Tears streamed down her face while she tried to hide the way her features cramped up in pain from the thoughts that flooded her brain like a tsunami. Y/n held her breath for a few seconds trying to collect herself before talking again. The attempt to cover up the ugly sobs that were about to slip her lips made her head feel like bursting. “I’m nice because I’m scared that if I speak my mind, people won’t like me anymore. I am positive because a lot of times I feel like that is the only thing that people could like about me.“ The words hit Jeff right in the heart. He caught her eyes for a second and shivered. He could see her breaking. Breaking to the point where it wouldn’t be a quick fix anymore that could be handled by a hug or kind words. No, the girl he saw in front of him, the very same girl that was sitting there, knees tucked to her chest, face hidden between it and her shoulders, was crumbling into a million pieces. Her body quivered as she attempted to hold her knees even tighter, trying everything to not fall apart any further. Jeff’s eyes started to water. It was a feeling he had never felt before. As if his heart was pulling on thin strains that were able to flood his entire brain with emotions yet so fragile. He hated seeing her like that. He hated everything about this situation. But the worst thing was that he didn’t know how to fix things. He wanted her to be happy, to be careless, and not let people’s opinions or some stupid assignment get the better of her, but he didn’t know how. It’s started to annoy him to the point where even the sky above him with the beautiful stars made him furious. “I had no idea…“ he trailed off after a while. Every word leaving his lips felt like one too much, but at the same time, he felt like he was not even able to say enough to fix things for her. “I’m so sorry.“ He just sat there shaking his head while moving some soil with his right hand. Y/n stayed quiet. She didn’t know what to say either. She felt bad for laying all her issues on him like that, but it felt so good. Iike a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Before she could even think about a response, Jeff interrupted her again. “You should feel able to tell me stuff like this, Y/n/n.“ They locked eyes and Y/n could see the pain in his. “No, I know… It's just that-“ “That what?“ Jeff was desperately hoping for anything that could help him help her. “I don't want to be a bother… especially not for you.“ She hid her face between her knees again, fighting the tears that were threatening to spill. “Oh, Y/n… You could never.“ He grabbed her hands and basically forced her to look back at him again. Y/n could feel the wet soil squeezed between their fingers, making her hand tingle a little. “Never in a million years do or say anything that would make me think anything less of you than an amazing person.“ A genuine smile formed on Jeff’s lips. He could see her relaxing with his touch. Just like he did with hers. “That means a lot, Jeff.“ The way she said his name sent shivers down his spine. His smile grew even wider and Y/n took the tiny bit of confidence in her to speak again. “Especially coming from you… I-“ Secretly hoping he would interrupt her like he always did, Y/n looked up through her lashes. “I know. Me too…“ Jeff smiled. There was this twinkle in his eyes. Just a faint glimmer for every other person, but for Y/n it meant the world. Like a whole new galaxy had been opened just for her. There was something so obvious and unspoken between them now and Y/n loved that they both knew what it was. With no intention to address it, Jeff leaned in closer to her. He watched her face with intent, making sure that she was feeling better from her previous breakdown before he planned on doing anything else. But all she did was smile and hint a small nod his way. That was enough for him. He longed for her lips. His hand wandered back to her shoulder, squeezing it slightly as he bumped his nose against hers. Y/n moved her fingers towards Jeff’s face, touching the scruff on his jaw lightly. They could feel the electricity dancing in the centimeters that separated them. With a final look into her eyes, Jeff pressed his lips against hers, enjoying the warmth for a moment. They started to move in synch, devouring each other. There was nothing else at this moment. Nothing, except for the salty taste of tears and the overwhelming warmth of a loved one. Jeff’s chest felt like bursting from joy. He loved the feeling this moment was giving him. It felt like finally breathing after holding a breath for a month. Their kiss felt like a Valve that had finally been opened for Y/n. It was letting all the hurt and worry out of her system and made the moment even more enjoyable.

Once they separated from one another, there was nothing but positivity lingering in the air around them. They looked into each other’s eyes until Y/n was ripped from the moment by a yawn that had been sitting in her throat for hours. She rested her head on Jeff’s shoulder and slowly drifted off to sleep. Jeff was stroking her head calmly. There were no more words needed anymore. This moment was perfect.

Jeff looked ahead and noticed the sun rising on the horizon, dipping the world into beautiful red and yellow tones. He took a deep breath, leaning back carefully and enjoying the considerably most wholesome moment to ever exist.

Hey hey, it’s me again. I know it’s not the best and I know it’s kinda short, but I just wanted to get something out there again. It felt good to write, but unfortunately I don’t have a lot of time lately. I hope you enjoyed this little piece anyways. I would love to hear some feedback on it. Thank you so much for reading this far!

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