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#room space. i’m hoping to maybe get a desk at some point so that i can start doing stuff at a desk instead of in bed or at the kitchen tabl
flippedorbit · 4 months
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i have spent the past hour or so reorganizing my room. i have emptied several boxes
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chicago-pd-is-weird · 2 months
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Jay Halstead x Reader Oneshot
Synopsis: Jay and reader are together, and reader works at Med in ED with Will. Reader has a lot of anxiety because Jay is a cop, thinking every cop that is brought in may be Jay.
TW: anxiety/panic attacks is a main theme in this, also some mention of blood and doctor-y stuff because reader works at Med in ED
Requested by: @sorry-i-spaced
Thank you so much! This was fun to write!
Any other oneshot requests, please DM me! :)
“We got a Stevenson!” A paramedic called out as they rolled into the ED. You and several other doctors sprung into action, running toward where the paramedics were coming in. ‘Stevenson’ was the code name for a cop, to let Med know who it was, no matter if they were in uniform, plainclothes, or undercover.
“(Y/N)! Rhodes! Trauma three!” Maggie’s voice called from the desk. Working in the ED was no walk in the park, especially in the middle of Chicago. You made your way quickly to where Maggie pointed you, picking up the pace as they wheeled in a man who was surrounded by cops. You pushed through the crowd and into the room, seeing the man on the gurney with three bullet holes in him. You helped get him moved over, then assessed the damage, Dr. Rhodes right behind you to help.
“Three bullet wounds, center mass. I’m assuming this is the perpetrator, not our Stevenson?” You spoke out loud. Some of the officers outside the room confirmed your thoughts.
Your heart was already pumping from the adrenaline as you worked on the man, but you couldn’t help it as it beat faster, hoping the officer shot wasn’t Jay Halstead. It made you especially nervous when the officers outside the room talked amongst one another, saying the man shot was a detective. Bile started to rise in your throat, but you were pulled back by the monitors beeping rapidly. You took immediate action as you snapped out of your anxiety for just a few moments.
You finally stabilized the man enough to take him to surgery, letting the nurses and techs take him with Dr. Rhodes. You backed away, looking around the room at the mess that had been made. For a moment, you stood in silence, looking around at the blood and various instruments that were around the room, as well as the blood on your gloves and scrubs.
Blood. You saw it every day, and yet, you couldn’t help but get a nauseous at the sight. You thought maybe that detective, who was fighting for his life, was bleeding out. That maybe it was the man you loved. Maybe he was in the other room, clinging to life, and here you were, trying to save the man who shot him. The notion made you sick to your stomach. You ripped off your bloody gloves and left them in the room, quickly moving to the nearest bathroom to empty your stomach of your breakfast. You panted in between heaves, gripping the toilet for dear life as you trembled at the thought of Jay dying and you saving the man who killed him.
You and Jay had met through Will, one of your coworkers and closest friends at Chicago Med. Will and Jay were brothers, and both had taken a liking to you at first, but you ultimately decided that romance with a doctor at the same hospital as you would be too complicated. You never expected the anxiety that came with beings cop’s girlfriend, though. You’d been prone to anxiety in the past, but it ramped up when you started getting serious with Jay. You had episodes like this a lot, no matter what cop came in. It had never been Jay in the past, but it only took one bullet in the wrong spot for him to die.
When the nausea passed, you slowly pushed yourself to your feet, though still unsteady as your head spin. You flushed, washed your hands and face, then made your way to the locker rooms to change out of your scrubs and into a fresh pair. When you re-emerged, you were met with Will, who gently pulled you aside before anyone else could see you. “Hey, (Y/N), you okay?” Will already knew the answer to that. He was the only one who knew the full story about these episodes you had at work. Although Jay knew some of it, especially about your anxiety, he didn’t know the full picture, and you’d sworn Will into secrecy over it.
“Will, it wasn’t him, was it?”
“No, (Y/N), Jay is fine. I talked to him just a little bit ago. He is investigating this with Intelligence. He might still be here. He was looking for you.”
You let out a shaky breath, but nodded. You were relieved, but needed to see for yourself. You walked with Will back to where he’d last seen Jay, your stomach settling down as you saw him standing with Detective Lindsay, talking to Maggie. You walked over, leaning on the counter with a hum beside him, hand reaching out to rest atop his on the counter.
Jay smiled when he saw you, leaning over and kissing your cheek. “Hey, was looking for you earlier. That perp going to make it?”
Instantly, your anxiety faded away, as if it was never there in the first place. Jay had that effect on you, especially when he was upright and acting like himself. “It’s touch and go, I think,” you said with a soft sigh. “We did what we could. Rhodes took him to surgery prolly about a half hour ago. If he does make it, it’ll be a hard and long road.”
Jay hummed and looked up at Will, who had taken a place behind the counter with Maggie. “And what about the detective?”
“He’ll make it,” Will replied. “Barring complications, he should be back on the job within a few weeks.”
“That’s good,” Jay replied, shifting his gaze back to you, unable to help the smile that pulled on his lips. “Hey, don’t look so down. We’ve got this.”
Your eyes met his, not realizing you’d looked upset. You smiled at him, nodding. “I know,” you replied. “It just must be hard that it’s one of your own, yaknow?”
“The risks we take,” he said with a small shrug. His statement was so nonchalant, which you didn’t like. You had to force yourself to focus on anything else to keep your rising anxiety at bay. Jay and Erin left soon after, and you shuddered, but moved back to work, checking on some other patients.
— —
“Stevenson incoming!” Maggie’s voice called out. You froze, looking up from the computer you had been typing at, swallowing hard. Your mouth ran dry, as stats were called by the paramedics. “Male, mid-thirties, stabbed multiple times.” You stood quickly, but Maggie didn’t assign you to it. You probably wouldn’t have been much help anyways, seeing as you were on the verge of an attack.
A firm hand was placed on your shoulder, pulling you back to reality as you gasped, looking behind you to see Will. “Come on,” he said softly, nodding to you. “It’s okay, come on.”
You let out a shaky breath, walking with Will out to the small break room. He got you coffee, which you took whether you liked it or not. It was something to pull you back into reality. “I-I’m sorry, I just…”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Will said, shaking his head. “I get the same feeling every time, but Jay just texted me that we are meeting for lunch, so it can’t be him.”
“I shouldn���t feel so much relief from this,” you said, putting your hands to your face, wiping away some tears that had started to escape. “Someone is hurt, yaknow? But I… I’m so terrified of something happening.”
“Have you talked to anyone about this? Maybe Dr. Charles can help.”
“No, no,” you said, sighing heavily, sniffling and wiping your face. “I talked to therapists all throughout middle and high school. None of them even understood me. As far as I know, I’m just messed up mentally.”
“(Y/N),” Will sighed. “We’re all messed up mentally. We’re doctors.” He shook his head again, reaching over to put a hand on your arm. “Look, maybe you just need to find the right person. Besides, we know more about mental health and the brain now than we did then. There may be new tactics to help you cope, even if we can’t cure it.”
You were thankful for Will, nodding at his suggestions. “Maybe,” you muttered, leaning back in your chair and rubbing your face with your hands again, then coming back to down the coffee. “Thanks.”
“Any time,” he replied, nodding. “You’re not alone, alright?”
“Thanks,” you repeated. Just then, Will’s pager rang and he had to go, but he planted a soft kiss on the top of your head as he pulled you into a gentle embrace. As quick as he was beside you, he was gone, and you sank back down to the chair, looking at your empty coffee mug with despair. Maybe you’d never get better.
— —
The past few weeks had been filled with more and more scares. There was a serial killer on the loose who was targeting cops. Your body was racked with constant anxiety every time a Stevenson was brought into the ED. The only time you weren’t was when you were assisting with a surgery, so you stayed with Dr. Rhodes most of the time to ensure you were in surgery. It was better that way for the patients and for you.
The surgery you’d just assisted in finishing was a tough one. It was a kid who had fallen on a pair of scissors the wrong way. However, Dr. Rhodes was like magic, and your own hands remained calm and steady as you fell into a zen-like trance. You weren’t thinking of anything else but the surgery at hand. The anatomy and biology of the body lying below you. It was the only time and place you’d felt at peace, despite the circumstances surrounding the incident.
As you scrubbed out, washing your hands and arms, someone came into the room. “(Y/N)…” Will’s voice rang, a hand coming to your shoulder.
“Hey,” you said softly as you turned off the water and dried your hands. “What’s up?” Your mind was still calm, but when you looked up to Will, you could tell something was off.
“Don’t freak out on me, alright?”
“Will…?” You searched his face for the answer as he squeezed your shoulders with his hands.
“Just, promise.”
“Uh… I… okay…?”
“Okay,” he said with a sigh, knowing that was good enough. “Look, Jay was brought in, but-“
“What?!” You didn’t let him finish before trying to push past him to find Jay.
Will kept you in place. “No, no, (Y/N), stop, it’s okay.”
“This is NOT okay, Will! How are you so calm?!” The bile had begun to rise in your throat as you feared the worst. Tears jumped to your eyes and you had to see him. You had to know Jay was alright, even if he wasn’t.
“Hey, hey, look at me. It’s Will. Look at me!” You looked back up to Will, his hands squeezing your shoulders again to pull you back, shaking you a little. “Look, see, I’m right here. Let me finish before you break down, at least.”
You scoffed, a small scoff to hide the soft laugh of that last remark. Although you were on the verge of an attack, that pulled you back from the edge a bit, making you shake your head. “Just tell me then!”
“Jay just had a gash on his arm from a piece of metal he ran across. He just ran into a piece of metal. His sergeant sent him, just to make sure it was good. He is not shot. He is not hurt badly. He is coherent and walking around. He needed a few stitches, but that’s all.”
You searched Will’s face for any sign of him playing down the injury, but you knew Will wouldn’t lie to you. You let out a breath, wiping your face. “No, I still have to see him though because… if I don’t, I’ll never recover from this feeling.”
“I know,” Will replied. “Come on, he’s in five. But you know if you go in there like this, you’re going to have to come clean?”
“I need to see him,” you affirmed as Will walked you downstairs to where Jay was.
When you got there, you walked in and pushed the curtain back over the door to ensure you had privacy. You nearly broke down as you saw Jay, his shirt off, a bandage on his upper arm. Whether from anxiety or relief, you had no idea. The emotions pulling you in different directions was crippling, and you just stood there, trembling as tears streaked down your cheeks.
Jay looked over you as you stood, frozen in time, hot tears racing down and dripping off your chin. He got up quickly, his soft voice finally hitting your ears. “Hey, hey, (Y/N), what’s the matter?”
As he caught you between his arms, you started to sob, nearly collapsing into his chest. “Fuck, Jay!”
Jay was surprised, but caught you with ease, holding you close to his bare chest. “What did I do this time?” He teased, trying to make you feel better.
You were barely in the mood as you took a fist to his chest, hitting him softly. “Don’t even joke, it’s not fair!”
Jay turned more serious, pulling back to look at you as you sobbed. “Hey… hey, just tell me what’s going on.” You couldn’t muster any more words, wiping your face with your hands. Jay pulled you over, sitting on the bed and pulling you to sit beside him. “(Y/N)?”
“I have… I have this… this intense fear,” you finally spoke, soft words only coming out with your breaths. “This intense… burning fear… all the time… that…” You swallowed hard, leaning into his shoulder on his uninjured arm.
“That what?” Jay prompted after a moment of silence.
“That you’re going to come in here and die!” You sobbed out, moving to cling to him again, arms around his torso. “Jay, every time a cop comes in here, I can’t take it! Anxiety and panic takes me over! I-I can’t! I love you so much, and I can’t lose you!”
“Hey, hey baby, you won’t lose me. You won’t.” Jay held you tightly against his chest once again, kissing your head. “Hey, come here, look at me.” He pulled back, letting you sit up and then gently taking your chin in his fingers. He tenderly pulled your chin up, then leaned down to meet you, planting a soft kiss to your lips. When he pulled back, he let out a breath. “Nothing will ever take me away from you… Nothing. Ever.”
With that, your emotions finally leveled out. You swallowed hard and reached up to cup his face, looking over his freckles. You smiled a little as your eyes met his. “Promise?”
“I promise,” he replied, matching your smile and leaning down to kiss you again.
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lavendercharm · 4 months
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Linger, Chapter 3: STFU!
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Summary: From the moment you meet her, you can't stand Melissa Schemmenti.
Warnings: VERY Strong Language
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The next hour flies by as you continue your mission of organizing and decluttering the classroom. You organize stacks of finished worksheets and separate them between their respective grades; group crayons, markers, and pencils by color; and even refill Melissa’s stapler with your own staples, which you feel is generous. In between trips to the trash and recycling bins across the room, you occasionally glance at the half eaten lasagna sitting on your desk. You feel like it’s mocking you, but you can’t bring yourself to throw away one of the most delicious things you’ve ever eaten. Maybe once you’ve extended an olive branch, you’ll be able to enjoy it again.
By the time Melissa returns, you’re nearly done. She finds you surrounded by piles of dead dry-erase markers and empty glue sticks. You’re so invested, you don’t notice her entering the room until her voice startles you, nearly causing you to drop the markers in your hand. 
“What the hell are you doin’?” She demands. 
You try to muster a friendly smile as you turn around, but you’re certain it looks as forced as it feels. You’re surprised to see her alone. “You don’t have the kids with you,” you point out lamely.
“Educator of the year over here with these observational skills,” she snarks. “Other teachers have recess duty. What the hell are you doin’ with my markers?” 
You glance down at the markers clutched in your hand and say, “Oh, I uh… I noticed the room was messy when the kids left, and the cupboards were kind of cluttered, so I was going through them.“
“What, my room isn’t pristine enough for you?” she asks mockingly, folding her arms and leaning on one hip.
You close your eyes briefly and remind yourself that you’re trying to fix things, not make them worse, before opening them again and replying evenly, “No, I just mean that it makes sense with how much you have on your plate-“
“So you’re sayin’ I’m messy and incapable of doing my job?” 
“Stop!” You interject quickly, putting up your hands to placate her. “I’m not trying to insult you! I just wanted to help. A bunch of this stuff was broken or unusable, it was just taking up space so I threw some stuff out-”
“You what?” Her voice has a sharp edge to it. Your hopes for gaining ground with her are out the window - it seems like Melissa is looking for any reason she can find to start a fight with you. 
“I threw some things away,” you manage, your own temper starting to rise. “I don’t see what you’re getting so worked up about.”
She steps toward you, pointing a finger assertively. “You took it upon yourself to go through my classroom supplies and throw things away without asking me. Do you have any idea how expensive new school supplies are?”
“This isn’t my first year in a classroom!” you protest.
“Well, I don’t know what fancy private schools you must have come from to think supplies grow on trees, but it’s your first day at Abbott. We can’t just turn around and buy new stuff whenever we want!” 
“That stuff wasn’t usable! It was junk!” You exclaim. 
“And how will I explain to my kids why half their school supplies are gone now? How entitled can someone be?” she says scathingly.
“God, what’s wrong with you that you call someone trying to help you entitled ,” you spit out. You hear her scoff as you turn your back on her and start gathering the piles of dead markers. You throw them, along with the empty glue sticks, into a container.
“Oh please! What else do you call someone who thinks they can do whatever they want? Goin’ through my stuff without askin’, not to mention strollin’ in late-”
“It was an accident!” You burst out, rounding on her. “God forbid I mess up!”  You bark out a scornful laugh. “You say I’m entitled, have you met yourself ? You think you can walk all over me just because I’m new here and I made a mistake! Hey, since we’re sharing, you’re the most stubborn goddamn woman I’ve ever met! You can’t go two seconds without criticizing something or giving your unwanted opinion. Have you ever thought about taping your big mouth shut?” You deride as you snatch up the bin under one arm and begin to stalk past her toward the trash.
She steps into your path and you nearly collide with her. You look up to meet her fiery gaze, refusing to back down, and as you do, something stirs in your lower belly. You feel your muscles tense, ready for… what, you’re not sure. Her heeled boots give her a fraction of a height advantage over you, so you have to look up slightly. Your faces are inches apart as she stares daggers into your eyes, both of your breaths heavy from frustration and mixing in the air. Her cheeks are flushed and her hazel-green eyes are vivid, and your eyes flit down to steal a glance at her rosy lips for the briefest of moments, before you wrench them back up to her gaze. As your eyes return to hers, she opens her mouth to speak, but something catches her eye, cutting whatever she was going to say short. 
Her brows come together in confusion as she tears her eyes from yours and your heart sinks to your stomach. She saw your gaze drift, she had to have noticed it and that’s why she looks so confused. You’re not sure how to explain it yourself - your eyes were simply wondering, your nerves are frayed, you aren’t in the right headspace. Her face grows even more red, and you brace yourself to be verbally eviscerated as her mouth opens once more. What comes out takes you so off guard that you momentarily forget yourself and the situation you’re in.
“Where did you get that?” she whispers coldly. Her gaze is fixed over your shoulder. 
“Wha- what?” You stutter out, blinking quickly to try and comprehend the sudden, unrelated question.
Her eyes return to you, and you see a fury unmatched by anything she had displayed so far. It’s the first moment you know, without a doubt, that Melissa Schemmenti is someone you should be scared of. She repeats her question in a deadly low voice, biting out the words harshly. “Where. Did. You. Get. That?” Out of your peripheral vision, you see her point to something behind you.
Mustering all of the courage in your body, you look away from the lion that has your head in its jaws and search for what has condemned you to your untimely death. Sitting on your desk, alone and forgotten, is the half eaten slice of lasagna Janine had brought you for lunch. It takes your brain a moment to parse out why Melissa is so infuriated, but you quickly realize what conclusion she’s jumped to.
“Melissa-” you meekly squeak out before the dam breaks and her wrath is unleashed on you in full.
“Keep my first name out of your fuckin’ mouth you self-absorbed rat,” she snarls. “I knew you were selfish and inconsiderate, but I didn’t peg you for a thief. Stealing lunches? How dare you? ” She’s positively foaming at the mouth, and every ounce of anger that made you bold is gone. In its place is a gut-wrenching panic. You feel your heart hammering against your rib-cage and she continues to tear into you. “I knew I didn’t like you for a reason. You waltz in here on your high horse and think you can just do whatever you want. News flash puttana, Abbott doesn’t need you and I certainly don’t need you. You’re not worth the air you’ve been takin’ up in here. All you’ve done is ruin my goddamn day,” she seethes, pausing briefly before exclaiming, “And you’ve got me using salty language at school! The best thing youse could ever hope to do for these kids and me? Get the hell out of my classroom.”
You’re absolutely mortified, the words you’d meant to use to defend yourself evading you. You know it doesn’t matter - nothing you say will convince her. You wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole. You dig deep within yourself, trying to grasp some semblance of dignity as you finally break free of her hateful glare. “Fine,” you muster. You back away from her and move to your desk, quickly gathering your meager belongings and shoving them back into your bag. You keep as much distance from the lasagna as you can, too beaten down to even acknowledge its presence. 
Once your things are gathered, you make your way towards the door. But some thought in the back of your mind gives you pause. You don’t want to go out like this, with your tail between your legs. You don’t want to let this vitriolic woman have the final say. Glancing up, you see Melissa has busied herself with something at her desk, having apparently already written you off. Hesitating, you steel yourself and say, “You know? I’m not so sure your aide has appendicitis. I bet it was an excuse so she didn’t have to work with a judgemental bitch like you.” 
Her head shoots up in a flash of red - you hear an intake of breath and catch sight of her mouth opening - but you’re in the hallway before she can respond, slamming her classroom door a little too hard behind you.
—--------------
“What the hell do you mean you got into a fight with Melissa!?” Ava exclaims across from her desk at you. You sit on the other side of her, feeling more like a student being disciplined than a grown professional reporting to their boss. When you’d arrived, Ava had made you wait outside of her office while she finished an episode of “FBoy Island”. This gave you more than enough time to process what had happened, and the shame nearly overwhelmed you. Never in your life had you lashed out at a colleague like that, especially after having known them for less than 24 hours. 
Expecting to be scolded and fired, you’re surprised when Ava’s next words are, “You could have at least called me girl! My fans would kill to see Melissa in a fight! Although I guess she’s not good like she says, ‘cause you ain’t got a scratch on you. I’m disappointed she didn’t break out her bat,” she mumbles dejectedly. 
You don’t even know where to begin responding to that, so you settle on, “We didn’t fight fight, just said some really nasty things to each other. Also, I don’t have your phone number, so… I actually couldn’t call you.” 
“Oh!” Ava says as if she’s surprised. “Well, we gotta fix that, give me your number so you can tell me next time!”
“There’s not going to be a next time,” you mutter sourly.
“Oh damn, are you quitting?” she replies in a disappointed voice. “You seemed kinda cool standing up to Melissa this morning, I thought for sure you’d last longer than a day.”
You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Uh, no… I mean, I don’t want to quit… well, I kind of do, but then she’d win,” you grumble. “I just thought you’d… I mean, I got into a huge fight with one of Abbott’s most tenured teachers. I thought for sure you’d want to fire me.”
“Fire you?” Ava says incredulously. “This is the most excitement this place has seen in a minute. If you stick around, we could start a teacher fight club!” She shoots you an award winning smile and you can’t help the quirk of your lips at her joke. At least, you think it’s a joke… probably. Ava leans forward, putting on her principal voice as she says, “Look, you’re the first sub we’ve been able to get since the school year started. On top of that, your references and work history make it seem like you’re actually a good teacher.” You give her an incredulous look, because everything you’ve learned about Ava doesn’t point to her ever actually doing her job.
“What?” she says defensively. “I do my research! I’m not gonna let just anybody walk on in here! I don’t need another stalker.” Before you can say anything to that, she barges on. “Listen, you can do whatever you want, but I’m not gonna fire you. Abbott needs you.” Her words, a direct opposition to what Melissa had said to you not even two hours before, warm your heart. You feel tears welling in your eyes, unable to hold them off completely no matter how much you try.
“Ew, don’t start crying,” Ava says, wrinkling her face up. “Or else I will fire you.” 
You can’t help the laugh that bursts out of you, and you catch a self-satisfied smirk on Ava’s face.
“Okay,” you say, wiping your eyes with a smile. “I’ll stay. I’m sure I can avoid Melissa as long as you put me on the opposite end of the school.” 
Your smile drops, though, as Ava says, “Girl, you’re still gonna be in Melissa’s class.” 
“What?” you ask, anxiety beginning to creep into your chest. “Can’t you put me in another room?” 
“Sure, there might be other rooms you could help in, but right now the only person out sick is Ashley,” Ava says flippantly. “And Melissa’s class has the biggest need for a sub, seeing as she’s teaching two grades n’ all.” 
“There has to be something else I can do,” you mutter desperately. 
“Right now, your options are to stick with Melissa’s class, or wait until someone’s out sick. But there’s no guarantee teachers will call out and I dunno about you, but I have bills to pay,” she explains dismissively, and you know the conversation is nearing its end as she turns her attention to her phone. 
You sit there and weigh your options. The last thing you want to do is have to return to Melissa’s classroom and face her again. As much as the kids in her class started to grow on you after just a few hours, this was the worst day you’d had in your entire professional career. And it was entirely due to Melissa Schemmenti. Plus, there was no telling how she’d react to you walking back into her room. Still, Ava had a point: if you weren’t subbing, you weren’t being paid. Your money situation was pretty dire. You needed this job. 
You exhale loudly, before uttering, “Okay. I’ll be back to join Melissa’s class tomorrow. On time,” you add hastily.
“Great!” Ava says, shooting you a smile over the top of her phone. You glance at the clock, seeing it was already nearly the end of the school day, so you wouldn’t be missing much by leaving a bit early. As you get up to leave, Ava says, “Wait!”
You stop in your tracks and turn to her expectantly. 
“Lemme give you my phone number so I can live stream when you and Melissa fight again!”
You roll your eyes in annoyance, and add her to your contacts.
—----------------------
When you make your way out to your car, you feel the weight of the day fully settle on your shoulders. ‘What a mess,’ you think to yourself. Even still, you try to find some resolve. You’re going to need it if you plan to weather Hurricane Schemmenti. 
You come up to your car, which is parked in one of the few visitor’s spots. Your head is down while you dig in your bag for your keys. As you step in front of your car, you feel something crunch beneath your shoe. Frowning, you shift your focus to the pavement. Small, clear granules shimmer in the afternoon sunlight. As you examine more, you see larger shards scattered about. Your jaw clenches as your eyes travel up, up… to the headlights on your car, both of which have been smashed out. 
You stare at the destruction before you, and slowly, a dark feeling starts to fill you. Your pulse pounds in your ears as your teeth grind together, and you start to see red in the corners of your vision. You clutch your keys in a vice grip. You want to hit something, or someone. Of course, you don’t have any proof as to who did this. But you know. And as the dark feeling inside of you grows and grows, you’re already beginning to formulate your revenge. 
‘Okay Schemmenti.  This is war.’
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mannequinreligi0n · 4 months
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Hiii!!
I loove your fics and lately I've been begging for some new Nero fics 🫡🫡
Could I request a fic with Nero and fem!reader where they're really good friends and yknow It's really cold outside and they both have to stay in an inn. Maybe one of the two offers their bed? And they both finally give in after a long while of hidding their feelings.
I really really crave some cute fluffy Nero smut, reader being her first🤭
Don't stress too much about this, and of course you can choose to write it or not!!
Thank you sweetie🫶🫶
ty for this !! i love a good ‘oh noooo, there’s only one bed’ trope.
tbh im not the biggest nero lover so this was a slight challenge but it ended up pretty good and a lot longer than expected lol. i also didn’t know how to end it but i hope you enjoy !!!!
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Two Pals, One Bed
an unexpected storm puts you and nero in an unlikely situation
PAIRING: DMC5 Nero x afab reader
WARNINGS: (NSFW!: first-time/virgin!reader, fingering, penetration)
WORD COUNT: 2k
🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟
The sheets of rain pounded on the windshield of the van, making visibility hard on the patchy road. You flicked out the wrinkles in the map, squinting in the light of your phone to see the web of routes.
“Can’t see a damn foot in front of me like this.”, Nero grumbled from the driver’s seat. “No thanks to you, by the way.”
His pointed blame made you crinkle the map in your hands. You both had been driving for seemingly hours, trying to make it home from a job, but the storm was making it hard to navigate the backroads.
“There’s an inn after the next right, we’ll duck from the rain til morning.”
Nero sighed and shook his head. “We would’ve been home by now, if it wasn’t for your dumbass.” He peered over the steering wheel, on the lookout for the upcoming turn.
“Nuh uh,”, you started, a scowl on your face, “don’t pin this on me! I don’t control the weather.”
“Whatever.”
Nero makes the right and after a couple miles of silence, the faint beacon of lit windows pierces through the gloom. Pulling into the lot in front of the inn, Nero parks the car and hops out. You follow suit and hastily trail behind him, using your bag as cover from the harsh rain. Entering the inn, you walk slowly to examine the tacky decor - artificial fish and paintings of sunny beaches mocking your drenched clothes. Nero makes a beeline to the front desk and is quick to return with a set of keys in hand.
“We got lucky. Seems like everyone had the same idea, but they had one room left.” Nero pats you on the shoulder and cocks his head toward the direction of the stairs. “C’mon.”
You nod and follow Nero up the stairs to your appointed room, sighing in relief to be out of the storm. Nero drops his backpack on the desk and stares at the single queen-sized bed in the center of the room.
“……..one bed.”
“One bed.”, you repeat. It seems that the universe thought it would be funny if you two shared a bed after a night of endless bickering and side-eyes. You eventually shrug and flop down on the bed, looking up at Nero. “I mean, we’ve slept in worse conditions, right? You remember the cyclops cave?”
That earns a tiny smile from him, chiseling away at the tension from earlier.
“Thanks for reminding me. It’s not like I spend every waking moment trying to forget the smell of decay and ball sweat.”
You both laugh and you feel the frustration slowly leave your body. Nero digs around his bag for a change of clothes and heads to the bathroom to change. You take this as your cue to do the same, pulling out a clean shirt and pair of underwear and discarding your old ones in the corner of the room. You crawl into the bed, flicking on the tv and settling in. Nero returns a few minutes later, changed and seemingly back to his easy-going self. He switches off the lights and gets into the bed, leaving some space between you both. You both watch a rerun of an old sitcom before Nero breaks the silence.
“I’m sorry for being an asshole to you. You were only trying to help, and I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you.”
The apology doesn’t take you completely by surprise, considering that Nero is the most levelheaded person you know, but you appreciate it nonetheless. You pull the covers up over you, sinking down to lay on your pillow as you address him.
“Don’t worry about it, Nero. We’ve had a long day and have gotten thrown every which way - it’s no one’s fault. Besides, I’m happy it was with you and not with anyone else, it could’ve gone a lot worse.”
Nero nods in agreement but he’s not lost on the subtle flirting in your last sentence. Nero glances down at you resting form, your eyes trained on the tv mounted to the wall. For the past few weeks, it seems you two have been dancing around the obvious for the sake of staying focused on work. But considering that you both are literally in the same bed, it’s hard to ignore now. You look up to him, his face turning a pretty pink from being caught staring.
“Was there something else?”, you ask, noting his blush.
“You’re really pretty.”
Nero blurts out the compliment, heart starting to pick up from embarrassment. ‘Reaaaal smooth, Nero. Bet Dante would get a kick out of this’, he thinks to himself. Your own face turns red in response, a shy smile on your face.
“You really think so?”
“I know so.” Nero starts, sliding down to be beside you under the covers. “And smart, funny, brave.”
You stare at him with awe, in disbelief that those words left his mouth. Without another breath, you lean to the side where he’s laying and kiss him. It’s a gentle, tentative kiss, but full of meaning and longing. Nero’s brain short-circuits and it takes a second before he returns the kiss. Slow and cautious, your mouths explore this newfound feeling. Without breaking away, Nero rolls on top of you, hands running up your sides. Feelings of excitement and anxiety intermingle in your stomach and you break the kiss to look up at him, eyes wide. Nero returns the look with concern, his hand cupping your face.
“You okay? Did…did I do something wrong?”
“No, I-“, you cut yourself off, building up confidence before speaking again. “I need to tell you something.”
Nero raises his eyebrows, interest piqued. “You know you can tell me anything.”
You gulp and take a deep breath, making sure that this is really happening. You look down at the empty space between the two of you as you speak. “I’ve never gone this far with anyone.” You pause, frowning slightly. “I mean, I’ve messed around but I’ve never actually….slept with anyone before.”
Nero runs a hand over your hair and kisses your forehead sweetly. There’s a clear look of understanding on his face. “Y/N, you don’t have anything to be sorry about. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. And if you don’t wanna do anything now, I won’t hold that against you either.”
“I want to, I’m just nervous.” Your eyes have a vulnerability to them, like you’re already standing there naked in front of him.
“It’s okay to be nervous. Fuck, I’m nervous. But, it’ll be okay, as long as you enjoy it. And if you change your mind or need me to stop, that’s okay, too.”
With his reassurance, you nod and pull him back down to reinstate the kiss. Nero sighs into your mouth, happy to be connected again. You feel his hands snake down to your thighs, running over the exposed skin with light touches. As scared as you were, everything felt right in this moment. Your own shaky hands moved to tug at his shirt to help him out of it. Nero yanks the shirt over his head before reaching to pull down your underwear. He stops and looks up at you, waiting for the green light from you; you give him an eager nod and he proceeds. You feel his fingers brush against your sensitive bud and your breathing hitches in your chest. His fingers move slow, tracing circles into your flesh as his mouth trails sweet kisses to your ear.
“You okay, sweetheart?”
Nero’s soft voice and tender touches elicits a moan from you, almost forgetting to reply to him. You turn to look at him and mumble a ‘yes’ out, hips rocking against his hand. Nero hums in content, moving his fingers to your already wet slit. He toys with the hole for a moment, testing the waters in case you change your mind. By the way you’re sighing and whimpering, he takes it as his sign to go on, pushing in two fingers slowly. Your back arches, jaw dropping silently. Pumping slowly in and out, his strong, slender fingers tease your g-spot. Your hands fly to his shoulders, gripping onto him for support. Minutes go by as your climax builds up, your walls pulsing around his fingers. Before you can warn him of the oncoming wave, his fingers slip out, making you groan in disappointment. He laughs at your noise, slipping off the rest of his clothes.
“Easy, tiger. I got more to give, believe me.”, he chuckles. Leaning down to kiss you once more, he positions himself between your legs. “Ready, pretty girl?”
You nod and smile into his mouth. “Ready.”
Aligning with your slick, Nero pushes into you with a moan of satisfaction. You bury your head in his neck, stifling a cry from being stretched. Nero’s arm comes up to wrap around your head protectively, cradling you in comfort. Once fully in, he stays still to let you adjust to the new feeling. You feel your breathing slow down and you nod again, letting him know it’s okay to move. His cock slips almost completely out of you until he pushes it back in, repeating this until he creates a steady, sensual rhythm. Mewls from you are muffled by how close Nero’s holding you - his free hand hooking under one of your knees to lift you ever so slightly. Over and over, the head of his cock hits that sweet spot and you feel your orgasm start to build back up, ready to satisfy the delay from earlier. The moment feels surreal, considering how many times you’ve dreamt of this moment, and you flex your fingers every now and then to remind yourself it’s really happening.
You look out from your safe place in Nero’s neck and see him above you - eyes shut, mouth ajar, and a sheen layer of sweat making him glisten in the light of the tv still playing. The display from him is what sets you off, knowing that you’re the cause of it. Your core tightens and those familiar electric pulses make your body quiver with pleasure.
“O-oh, god, that feels so good…. I’m gonna…gonna…”
“Let it out, I’ve got you.”
The encouragement from Nero is all you need to let go, a wave of pleasure taking over all of your senses. Your legs shake around Nero and a sound you’ve never heard from yourself before fills the room. Fuelled by your reactions, Nero chases after his own high, fucking into you passionately. Sweat dripping down his face, he looks down at you with an adoring smile before his eyes squeeze shut, followed by a series of whimpers and curses. Your walls milk him free of every drop of seed, the feeling overwhelming for him. You stare up at him in awe, your vision going in and out from your own orgasm.
His thrusts slow to a stop, allowing him to collapse on you. Both of you lay there panting, the heat of your bodies almost overbearing. You run your hand up and down Nero’s back, soothing him through the end of his orgasm. Eventually, Nero lifts his head and gives you a weak kiss, bumping his nose to yours.
“You did great, y/n. Seriously, that was….”
“Amazing.”, you finish for him, a giggle following it.
“Yeah, that.”
Nero pushes himself up and out of you, rolling onto his back beside you. He reaches over and pulls you into his arms, stationing you to lay on his chest. You can hear his heart thumping strongly, beating a lullaby to you.
“Get some rest, beautiful. You’ve earned it after that.”
You start to protest sleep but a yawn betrays you, realizing how warm and safe you feel in Nero’s arms. As minutes pass, your eyes grow heavier and soon close for the night, your breathing deep and slow. Nero’s hands tangle in the strands of your hair, twirling them mindlessly until sleep triumphs over him as well.
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ikkosu · 4 months
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HELLO HELLO!! I hear you wanted some pharma or prowl. I have brought to you a request about pharma. Pharma with a reader whos studying to be a doctor/nurse? Maybe Pharma can tell the reader whats it like to be a cybertronian medic while reader can tell Pharma what they've been learning! Thank you btw, love your writings!!!
STUDY PARTNER
author’s note : thank you!! your words mean so much to me <3 I hope you don’t mind me adding a bit to that ask ! I had a lot of fun writing this and I’m not very versed in cybertronian biology so I tried (made up stuff that seems plausible but really just made up stuff)
summary : pharma’s darling pet is learning to be a medic and he’s appalled.short little fic.
warnings : none. fluff + playful banter. pre-delphi-tarn Pharma.
He almost pierced himself with the scalpel when he heard you over the comms, babbling about studying to be a medic and what gives.
A human medic, learning about Cybertronian biology? He couldn’t focus. Whatever you’re ranting about goes through one processor then the other. He’s more baffled that you’re already at your fourth year.
Primus, how’d this get out of hand?
Now, he’s forty feet off the ground, zooming towards your living space. Never mind the cold expanse of Messatine, this problem needed to be dealt with and quick. He approaches the organic area.
The suburban house comes into view and he catches sight of your open window; the dim glow of the yellow lights spooled out amidst the night. He’ll have to remind you to be more careful with security. But that can wait.
In the process of trying to fly into your window, really he’ll just destroy the damn wall to get in, the top of his wings were caught in the fully drawn blinds by a mere inch, and he scrambled, landing face-first into the cold floorboard of your room.
Not the safe landing he’d prefer to be honest. A shadow casts over him, he groans, and raises his helm to see your bare feet, trail it up to your shorts, your loose shirt then the deadpan of your face with a quirked brow. You’re clutching a myriad of books, papers sticking out, and your hair is a mess. You’re studying for the upcoming exams, no doubt.
“You know, there’s this thing.” You began, stepping over the large jet to head towards your desk, pulling the chair back and plopping your self on it. “It’s ahh, made of mahogany wood, six feet inches tall, with this thing called a metal knob — theres a door, Pharma.”
He stands up, dusting himself off. “I had to take drastic measures. And I will not lose another minute trying to get through your door. You never told me you were studying to be a medic, much less the year you were in. Did you realize how much remorse you’ve put me through?”
You look over your shoulder, brow quirked, “I told you five times max. Even the week before your conference. What did you think I was doing this whole time you were at work? For four years, Pharma. Were you even listening?”
He huffs defensively, wings drawn up, haughty. “I was….busy,”
“Then that’s your loss.”
“You could’ve at least chosen Delphi as your transfer why Teran?” He says, almost offended at the prospect. That’s because he is. Why choose some old, decrepit hospital when you can work in the best of the best? He’ll have to pull some strings to get you to the top and close to him.
You throw him a look. “Because I want to?”
“You can’t simply decide things on a whim, dear. Impulse seems to be your greatest friend, somehow. Listen to me when I say there’s plenty of vile cybertronians there. Even worse, you’re a female, human, medic. At some point, they’ll take advantage of your squishy form and—“
“Pharma, it’s an organic friendly hospital.” You sigh. “It’s not like the discrimination in Delphi is any better. Look, if you’re here to bother me, the window is always open. I have an exam tomorrow and I’m not wasting time trying to one up you.”
That shuts him up and you turn back to your studies, crinkling your face at the paper. If you were a lot let haggard he’d chastise your indecency towards him. But instead, he saunters close to your desk, eyeing the schedule taped on your wall, the cluttered books on the table, pens, markers, spooling about.
He halts behind your chair, narrowing his eyes, craning over your shoulder, digits impatiently tapping the metal that is his arm. You try to ignore it and focus yourself with sorting out your study cards. Circuit modules, know that. Gestation tank, yup—
Tink, tink, tink. Your eyes twitch. Oh, this bastard. As you were about to chew him off, he jabs a digit at your table and you look. It’s your past paper.
“That is incorrect,’’ He mumbles, “That too. This one is Nodulic System Array. This one is the letter B. And that—“ He swipes it off your desk to get a better look. “—Is also incorrect.”
You tilt your head, furrowed your brows and thought for a while. “It’s not coolant? Don’t you guys have engines needed to be cooled down by coolant like cars do?”
“That’s true….sometimes….” He trails off. “Coolant is used in the situation where a major component is damage. In that case, cooling fans. That is the main component and an per your question, overheating leads to several repercussions—“
“Wait, wait wait—“ You lean over your desk and scribble some more notes on the pad.
Seriously? He’s lecturing and you’re not even listening?
“Write the notes later, dear. Listen first.” He tsks, impatient.
“No I can’t, I’ll forget them. Here, just sit down.” You motion to the chair without much of a look to him.
He feels his face plate burn for a moment. The nerve. This human had the nerve to regard him with such a careless notion and yet he doesn’t mind. He looks at you, wings twitching, then away, then back. It’s not like he has anything else to do. With a sigh he pulls up another chair by your side.
“Perhaps I could spare some time for my darling pet.”
BONUS
“What is this?”
“What is what?”
“This!” He held up a notepad, and you look away without much of an expression when you see the scribbles of a miniature pharma with an ‘x’ for both eyes, the rough strokes as blood.
“You were being an ass.”
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rachaelswrites · 2 years
Text
Fighting Over the Sick
Avengers x Teen!reader
Word Count: 547
Requested By: Anonymous
Can you write an Avengers x teen! Reader where the reader is sick and the Avengers fight over who gets to take care of her? (They all want to take care of her, she's practically the baby of the team, and they hate seeing her miserable, but they can't just crowd in her room, the kid needs space for goodness sake)
A/N: This is my first fic in a while!! I hope you enjoy it!
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Getting sick was not ideal. You hated being sick because you didn’t like people worrying about you and coddling you. It was a good thing that most of the team was out on a mission so no one knew except Thor and Natasha.
You were just scrolling on your phone when there was a knock on your door. You didn’t get to respond before the door opened and Thor popped his head in.
“Hello Thor,” you said, trying your hardest not to cough.
“I was told you were sick,” he said.
“Well I am,” you replied, smiling weakly.
“Y/n?” you heard Natasha yell from the hallway. She came in with a bottle of water and a bowl of soup, “I brought you something to eat and drink if you feel up to it.”
“You can set it over there,” you said, pointing to your desk.
“Are you feeling better yet?” she asked, setting down the bottle and bowl.
You shrugged, “Kinda.”
Nat just smiled softly at you. Before she could respond, Steve barged in, the rest of the Avengers following behind.
“Why did no one tell us the kid was sick?” Steve said, a bit of anger in his voice. He wasn't angry at you of course. Just that no one told him that the youngest of the bunch was sick and in bed. Out of everyone, he was the most protective.
“Steve, it's just a cold. I’ll survive,” you said, brushing him off.
“Are you sure?” Bruce cut in, being the doctor that he is, “Did you go to the medical wing? Or a doctor?”
You rolled your eyes at him, “I think I know what a cold is. I’m fine.”
“Maybe we should just be extra sure,” he added.
You shook your head, “Guys, I’m okay. Really.”
Tony walked up to your bed, gently pushing Natasha out of the way before he put his hand against your forehead, “You’re burning up kid.”
“Well I have a cold so it’s not that surprising,” you said back.
It was Bruce’s turn to check your temperature but placing his hand on your forehead, “You do feel pretty warm. Maybe you should move to the med bay just in case.”
“No shit I’m feeling warm. I have like five people huddled in my room smothering me. Please, leave me alone,” you said, pulling away from Bruce.
“Give the poor girl some space,” Nat said, starting to shoo everyone away, “If Y/n wants company, she’ll ask for it.”
Thor had spent the entire conversation sitting in your desk chair and messing with the things on the desk. Once everyone else was out of the room, Natasha looked over at him, “That includes you Thor.”
He got up from the chair and waved goodbye to you, wishing you to get well quickly. Once it was just you and Nat left, you thanked her.
“Thanks for getting everyone out,” you said.
“Anytime kiddo. If anyone bugs you, just let me know,” she left the room and you were able to get some peace and quiet. Throughout the day, you had wondered why no one had tried to come and check on you. Later, you found out that Natasha had stationed herself outside your door, making sure no one distrubed you.
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hello-eeveev · 1 year
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Beau had half a mind to march over to the Candles and kill Ludinus Da’leth herself, if only so she didn’t have to spend another day looking over the same documents, trying to find something they could use to get him out of power. She didn’t trust him—hadn’t from the start—but the more she walked in similar circles, the more she had to deal with the Assembly’s bullshit, the more she was convinced that whatever Ludinus was up to at any given moment, it couldn’t be good. But he had spent centuries navigating Dwendalian politics; of course he knew how to cover his tracks well.
She was halfway through plotting out the assassination when Caleb, who was sitting at the desk across from her, closed his book and looked up at her. “It’s five o’clock,” he said.
“Finally.” Beau sagged in her chair, taking in a deep breath. As she exhaled, she let thoughts of work fade from her mind. Once she felt suitably non-murderous, she slapped her hands onto her desk and stood. “Let’s get going then.”
She and Caleb fell into their routine as easily as they fought side-by-side. Caleb collected all the files and documents and organized them as he saw fit, while Beau stacked the books in the order that she knew would be most convenient for whoever reshelved them. Then they switched. Beau ran the papers back to her tiny office and locked them in her desk drawer, and Caleb passed off the books to the nearest archivist to be put away. When they met back up, Caleb walked Beau all the way to the teleportation circle on the other side of the Archive. Outside of going home to Yasha, this was Beau’s favorite part of the day, because regardless of what they ended up talking about, they made sure that, for at least these fifteen minutes, neither of them had to think about their country’s corrupt systems and the horrible people running them.
By the time they arrived at the teleportation circle, her half thought-out plans of murdering the Martinet had been shoved into the back of her mind by Caleb’s fond tales of the kids he tutored and the progress they were making.
She really hoped he would take the Soltryce job, if not for the good he would do there, at least for himself. He seemed so happy when he talked about teaching, almost as much as when he was nerding out about spells with Essek or Veth.
The caster in charge of the circle beckoned Beau into the center of the room, and she jogged into position as they began drawing the sigils for the Zadash Archive circle.
“Hey, so tomorrow night, Yasha’s trying out a new recipe that she got from Martina,” Beau said, turning to face Caleb who lingered at the edge of the casting space. “It’s a stir-fry sorta thing that she learned on a trip to the Menagerie Coast. I think it’ll be really good, especially if we use some of your green beans. You down?”
The invitation was more of a formality at this point. Caleb joined them for dinner almost every weekend. But Caleb shifted awkwardly, looking down at his feet.
“Ah, I would love to,” he said, “but I already have plans for tomorrow. Maybe another night.”
“Eating a boba and reading all night doesn’t count as dinner plans.”
Caleb huffed a laugh. “No, it is a, um…” He picked at some fuzz on his coat sleeve. “A date.”
“Wha—” Beau blinked. Shook her head and blinked again. “What? With who?”
Caleb caught her gaze, expression completely neutral except for a growing redness on his face. “A friend,” he said.
She furrowed her brow. “I’m gonna need a little more information than that, dude.”
He glanced down at the runes being drawn beneath her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him run his thumb over the ring on his index finger—his Ring of Telepathy, it looked like—and his voice entered her mind.
“Essek.”
Beau’s eyes widened, but then the bastard smiled and waved like nothing happened. “Have a nice evening, Beauregard.”
Faster than she could run over and punch that smug look off his face, the chalk on the floor flashed and suddenly she was back at the Zadash Archive.
She fumbled for her Sending Stone. “Fucking piece of shit—I’m gonna—” She yanked it out of her pocket and activated it. “Caleb!” she shouted. Some poor young monk tried to greet her while an older expositor threw a stern expression her way, but Beau paid them no mind. She was already running out the door.
“The fuck kinda timing was that? What do you mean you’re going on a date with—” Shit, she couldn’t use Essek’s name in the middle of Zadash. “—with him? When did this happen? How? Who else knows?”
“You are the first, unless someone else has figured it out already,” he replied. “Unfortunately Sending is limited to twenty-five words, so I cannot say more. Goodnight, Beauregard.”
“I know for a fact that’s not how these Sending Stones work, you asshole!” She did a quick count of Caleb’s message in her head. Twenty-six words.
She could practically hear his shit-eating grin in the silence that followed.
Forget Ludinus, she had another wizard to kill.
Before long, Beau was sprinting up to her house. She waved off Martina’s sickeningly sweet hello and threw open her front door.
“Yasha!” she yelled. “Babe, you’re not gonna believe what Caleb just told me. Can you message Jester today?”
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pinkacademic · 10 months
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Crunch Time Exam Prep
My girl @seliniteheart requested: “How to prepare for exams 3-4 weeks ahead while not going insane because they're the hardest exams in the entire major” and this seems time-sensitive, so I gotchu girly! I hope I got this to you in time!!
Scheduling
Break your time up effectively so that you can get as much information crammed into your brain as possible
Break it down also so thay you repeat the information on a good interval. Maybe, if there’s three weeks to go, repeat question x every monday and info y every tuesday, and do a practise paper every friday?
If applicable, figure out what’s most likely to be on the exam and focus on that
Focus also on your weak points. Don’t waste energy on the things you know and are good at, give them a go over but focus on the stuff you don’t like
Schedule productive breaks- if you’ve been elbows down on your desk for a bit and want to keep the study energy up but need a break, take a break for some kinaesthetic learning, for example.
Take 0% breaks- in other words, take some breaks to do absolutely nothing, where even thinking about the exam is BANNED. Life-Hack- inform other people of this strategy so that you don’t get your mum coming into your room like “how’s the studying going?” when you’re mid-meditation, or to be watching your comfort YouTuber when your bestie is like “girl, I’m so stressed for this exam on Monday!” This time is for 0 brain power, no stress.
Sorry to the girlies who also have to consider jobs and other priorities, but see if you can work with your employers, the aunt you babysit for etc to reduce your time, or if you can blend your studies. Eg maybe you’re studying for a maths exam, which means helping your little cousin with maths homework keeps you in the right mindset to study for an hour when you get home. Or maybe your retail job is cool and lets you study in the breakroom, or even take your textbook to the till when its quiet.
If your bosses aren’t cool, unfortunately, you just have to make the most of spare time, but as long as you’re maximising your study time to work for you, you can do this!
Breaks
As mentioned above, schedule in breaks that keep the vibes up, and breaks that turn your brain OFF completely. Set yourself school hours eg 9-3 or even 9-5. Doesn’t matter, just pick a time in the evening when that’s it OVER and no more studying.
Make sure to go for water regularly, and eat at regular times- and DO NOT take your notes with you!
Taking Care of Yourself
Make your study experience as painless as possible by giving yourself a good environment. If you like the library, sequester yourself into a cozy corner; if you like a café, same deal. If you’re at home, make sure to keep your space tidy and organised.
I’m gonna mention going to get water again. Go get some right now, actually. Where I live, the hottest days of the year are exam season and back-to-school season. Christmas exams are a whole separate nightmare but you’ll still sweat through your fifteen million layers! Go hydrate!
If you’re hunched over your desk, you need to stretch. Find YouTube video you like, especcially if you’re not that familir with stretching. And go for a walk at least once a day, weather permitting.
If you’re a kinaesthetic learner especially, do a proper cooldown after exercising! That’s true anyway, but especially if you’re adding your brain as a muscle to train.
Actually, maybe we should all be doing warm-ups and cool downs… go over your favourite aspects of your subject in a quick five minutes at the start and end of your sessions!
The Actual Studying
Aka, the hard bit. Its so much mor fun to just organise your space, gather all your pens, and set up your instagramable study session, avoiding the actual “study” bit- God knows that’s me. How you actually study is so different person to person and subject to subject, so I’m going to give tips that are hopefully applicable to a lot of people, but may not all work for everyone!
Cater to your own preferences: I sometimes listen to classical music when I study, I sometimes listen to numetal, so what makes sense to you.
If you need to, block out all distractions: do not disturb on your phone, even turn off your wifi if you can.
If you’re like me and need distractions eg adhd: try pacing to shed any excess energy, listen to loud music (lol like my numetal ha), if possible, listen to your notes aloud while doing something else (I used to play solitaire in class). I find that if you have something else that you can focus on such as a pretty menial/repetitive game like solitaire, or a song with lyrics, your brain gives more energy to that so that instead of a hundred million thoughts distracting you, its only one extra thing.
Read your notes aloud to yourself and walk around your room- hit all three learning styles at once
Write and re-write things, condense it down, do past papers, and just keep repeating the same information until you’re sleep-talk in just the quadratic formula and/or you’re even dreaming in French.
Ok, that’s it for now. I hope that helped selineiteheart, and I hope it was useful to anyone else who needs this! There are a tonne of resources out there, and I’m sure you’ll find what works for you- lmk what you want to see next! Also, I hope you do well in your exams! Good luck, I’m sure you’ve got this!!
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emilykaldwen · 7 months
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@mercurygray called my ass out and sent me Moonlight Serenade to finally get me to start that WWII!Abrogon AU, If Found, Please Return. Which is basically Westeros 1940s esque dragon war.
Send me a Song title au + oc/ship!
this was supposed to be a list of ideas buuuut instead you get a two page drabble because I had feelings. this is unbeta'd and like, I literally just finished writing it but it came to me so fast so it's a good monday methinks
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Aegon didn’t want to go.
Oh, he’d been ready, Warrior save him (and hells, how his mother would not stop praying and trying to fit every little woven symbol of the god among his things to the point where he gently, but firmly, told her to stop and give some to Aemond. Him and Vhagar were headed towards Volantis with the Redwyne Raiders to hold The Orange Coast), Aegon had been eager in the way someone who doesn’t fear the Stranger could only be.
What better way to prove himself than command his own battalion from the back of his dragon and show that he was made of sterner stuff than the soft bellied boy that his grandfather spat at him.
What better way to gain his own father’s attention?
Cold fingers tighten through his and he brushes his lips against the crown of Abrogail’s hair, where all he can smell is bergamot and rose and feels the knot of nerves inside him ease.
“I stand and I wait for the touch of your hand in the June night,” he sang to her as the music of the band wafted over them. He felt her little huff of laughter against his shoulder where her cheek rested, breathless from the wild spinning along the dance floor moments before. He could feel the way her heart hammered against her ribs and how it echoed in him.
‘Why leave?’ He thought. Why leave when he could crawl between her ribs and settle himself in the space inside where he was loved and wanted, and he could keep her warm. He could stay with her. 
Maybe he should demand his battalion get sent to Norvos where Abby’s own orders were sending her. His little rabbit had answered the call and was a nurse at the hospital there.
‘I won’t be far.’ He would be in the hills and patrolling up towards Lorath Bay. How far the Triarchy wars had spread and Westeros had entered the fray once Tyrosh fell and the Velaryon fleet in the Stepstones had been attacked.
“I should put labels in your clothes as I do my sketchbooks,” Abby murmured and rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. Aegon cuddled her closer. “If found, please return.” The front of her sketchbooks held the same plea, decorated with little rabbits with pleading faces and the address of her father’s law office in King’s Landing.
Aegon chuckled and tilted his head down so he could brush his mouth against the shell of her ear. “So if they find me, they’ll dump me on your father’s desk. I’m sure the man wants words with me.”
“If you’re implying he’s hoping you do not come back, you are sorely mistaken.” Her kiss was warm against his shoulder and Aegon shivered, his hand tightening against the curve of her hip. “If you do not come back, neither do-”
“Hush,” he cut in, a nip to her ear for such talk. She tilted her head back to look at her. Eyes as blue as the Narrow Sea, as blue as the sky he and Sunfyre adored. Abby’s heart shaped mouth was painted a deep red, her curls brushed into submission into a golden red cloud around her shoulders. Aegon rested her other hand on his shoulder so he could cup her cheek. “We’re both coming back. As if anything happens that far north from the fighting anyway. The worst that’ll happened is I’ll get court martialed for getting caught coming to see you.”
Abby scrunched her pretty face up in a familiar, disbelieving expression. “Well, I will miss Sunfyre awfully much. Almost as much as I’ll miss you.”
“I stand at your gate and I sing you a song in the moonlight,” he continued and Abby’s scrunched up face eased into the soft, dreamy expression that made him wish they were alone, made him wish they were back in his room or away at the little cabin outside Harrenhal where none would bother them.
“A love song, my darling, a Moonlight Serenade,” she sang back to him and he pressed his mouth to hers. Her fingers tangled into his short hair to hold him close, feet moving to stand on his so he could guide them both.
taglist: @fyeahhotdocs, @ocappreciation, @stannisfactions, @fragilestorm, @starcrossedjedis, @darkwolf76, @arrthurpendragon, @dopedaegus, @hiddenqveendom, @mantillon, @lightofthearrow, @songsonacliffside, @acrossthesestars, @insabecs, @prosemoireia, @dragonsbone, @corporalicent, @jadore-andor, @selfproclaimedunicorn, @gwenllian-in-the-abbey, @notbloodraven, @impales, @arcielee, @thesunfyre4446
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cypherverze · 1 year
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CHAPTER FOUR
Hardest Part of Ending is Starting Again
an avengers x john wick crossover fanfic
You can access the previous chapter here: Chapter Three | Series Masterlist Access
PAIRINGS: avengers x teen!reader (platonic) , tony stark x niece!reader , john wick x daughter!reader , peter parker x female!reader
SUMMARY: An old friend had decided to drop by and say hello at your hotel room, telling you about Abram’s whereabouts and causing you to be ambushed by his men out of nowhere. Eventually teaming up with the person you least expected.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: hello, here’s chapter four and i hope you’ll like it. updates will be slow starting today, since i’ll be busy now. maybe during the weekends, i’ll be able to post a new chapter. comments, notes, and reblogs are always highly appreciated. thank you so much for liking and supporting my story! also, i’m sorry if ever there are typos ><
REMINDERS: this story is pure fiction. i do not own the characters of avengers, spider-man, and john wick franchise. this work is originally written by the author (me), please do not copy or repost my work in other platforms.
WARNING: foul language, violence, blood, knife, guns, death, and mentions of child abandonment
WORD COUNT: 4,850
DIVIDER BY: @silkholland
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It was already late when you arrived at the continental, you gave the driver a gold coin as a payment for his services and thanked him. You got out of the taxi and made your way inside of the continental, the concierge smiled at you.
“Good evening, Ms. Jovanovich, would you like a room?”
“Yes please.” You replied and placed the room keys in the desk.
You scanned the place in a discreet manner. The continental is peacefully quiet at this time of hour, just like every other night. Though you noticed a woman sitting in a faraway corner from the concierge, drinking something, probably a wine. But the woman was awfully familiar to you, you just can’t point out who it is exactly.
“Here’s your key, Ms. Jovanovich. Enjoy your stay.” You nodded at the concierge and bid him good night.
You arrived at your room and unlocked it with the key that the concierge gave to you. The room looks beautiful as always, squeaky clean, just how you like it. You set down your briefcase and place your bag at the couch. You decided to change your clothes to a comfortable one, and grabbed the human anatomy book that you had bought this morning.
The reason why you bought a human anatomy book is because you want your attack to be precise whenever you use your gun or knife. Your father is a skilled physician, so his knowledge about the human anatomy is vast. When he’s in combat, he knew exactly where to target the opponent, he’ll target them where it’ll take most of the damage. In short, where it will kill them quickly.
You are currently in the bed, laying comfortably and reading. Your room was already dark, except for the faint light of the lamp on your bedside table, casting a warm glow over the space as you read. You are in your zone, full attention on the book you’re reading, when you suddenly heard the sound of footsteps approaching your door. Whoever is trying to sneak up on you is not discreet, it was like they are letting you know that they are planning to barge inside your room. You had reached slowly for your gun that you placed on the bedside table in case of emergencies.
The door was forcefully opened, the locks of it flying off. It was the woman that you saw at the receiving area. Now that the person is infront of you, you already recognized the person clearly—it was Anya Nikolaev. Her eyes wild with rage, and without any warning, she launched herself onto you, but you managed to get away, but she quickly drew her gun. You are trying to dodge her attacks, as she’s shooting at you nonstop. She got you good, for some part. Like bruises here and there, especially at the face.
You and Anya go way back, you had met her when you’re just starting in the field and her being a year or two ahead of you. You hate to say it, but she’s a skilled marksman and overall a good assassin. You had always tried to be civil with her from the very beginning, but she never fails to remind you of how she hated—loathed you so much, and you never knew the reason why.
Anya had managed to disarm you by elbowing you at the wound that you have in your stomach and kicking your gun away from you. You charged at her with full force, slamming into her middle, and immediately having her in a guillotine chokehold, quickly subduing her. She had tried to get away from your hold by firing her gun and aiming randomly, maybe hoping to shoot you right in the face. You had her choking for air, you can choke her that can stop the flow of her blood anytime, but you needed information from her, and you’re inside of the continental where doing business is not permitted. It’s a rule that you intend on not breaking.
“I’ll give you a chance, Nikolaev,” You warned. She still struggling in your hold, “Stop this now and spare yourself from being up for execution by the management.” She didn’t show any signs of stopping.
You’re both struggle in trying to gain an upper hand, seeing who’ll give out first. Your hold on her keep getting tighter and tighter, until the telephone in your room rang. The telephone was just right within your reach, so you reached out to the phone so fast, but still holding on to her tightly.
“Ms. Jovanovich, I have been getting noise complaint,” It was the concierge, “Is there anything wrong?” You breathed heavily.
“Oh yeah, I’m okay. Everything’s good, just dealing with an uninvited guest, that’s all. But don’t worry, she’ll be out in no time.” You chuckled.
“I see. Would you like to schedule a dinner reservation?”
“Can you hold that thought? I’ll get back to you.”
“Certainly. Have a good night, Ms. Jovanovich.”
“You too.” You dropped the call.
Anya had managed to escape your hold. She grabbed a knife that was tucked inside of her coat, she had managed to land a small slice on your left cheek. You grabbed the first thing that your eyes land on, which is a stool and whacked it at her.
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” The attack that you made at her didn’t even manage to do some damage at her.
“Thought that you’re one of the best?” She taunted, “What? I expect that you’ll be as good as your daddy dearest, but figures you aren’t. You are all just bark but no bite,” It had caught you off guard, how Anya knew things about you.
“Oh I’ll show you alright, I’ll show you how hard I can bite, Nikolaev.” You clapped back.
“You know, I really hated your father, I had wanted to kill him myself,” She ignored you and just kept on talking, scoffing at her.
“As if you can really kill him. You’d be long dead before you can reach to him.”
“I’ve been wanting to take a jab at you for a long time. I wanted to kill you.”
“Isn’t that what you’re doing right now?”
“And when I found out that you’re his daughter, the drive inside me to kill you had intensified,” She grinned, “It’s your dad’s fault that the only family I had left is gone, why? Because your oh so legendary father, killed him!” She lunged at you with force.
The tension and scent of blood had become palpable, it’s like you can almost taste it. Literally and figuratively, since Anya had managed to land a blow on your lips. You noticed that she has been repeating the same moves over and over again, to the point that her moves became sluggish and breath becoming ragged. You took this opening as your chance, quickly grabbing your gun that was nearby and in one swift motion, you were able to pacify Anya. Holding your gun against her throat.
“Don’t make me fire this gun right at your throat, Nikolaev,” You pressed the gun further on her throat, “You want to know why my father killed yours? It’s because he got greedy. He’s a one greedy son of a bitch, and because of that greediness of his had what drove your father buried six feet underground.” You gritted.
“He was the only family that I have ever had. Of course you wouldn’t understand that, you don’t know what it felt like being abandoned.” She growled.
“Oh yeah? Fucking tell me about it, humor me, Nikolaev,” You chuckled and assessed the situation, “Well would you look at that, two parentless teenagers, bonding together on the one thing that they have in common. You are in no position to tell me that.”
“Fuck you.” She gritted.
“No, thanks.” Your hold on her began to tighten, and her squirming from it, “But what I want you to tell me right now is who had sent you to kill me.”
“Like I’m telling you shit!” She had managed to knock you off in your head.
Anya had grabbed her gun, but you lunged at her. Wrestling off each other, not one of you giving in, until you had both reached the hallways of the hotel, and you had managed to have her again on chokehold.
“Listen here, bitch. I’m cutting your air flow right now, and it’s getting harder to breathe, yeah? I can cut your blood flow in a snap too whenever I want. So I’m giving you two choices. You’re gonna tell me who sent you, who gave you a contract to pull one on me—that you’re so willing to break the rule of the continental just to kill me or I cut your blood flow and you die. Take your pick.” She’s still trying to free herself from your chokehold, but finding it impossible. Because you keep on tightening your grip with the strength you have left on her whenever she tries to attempt to free herself.
“You don’t want me doing this, I don’t want to kill you here in the continental, I’d prefer to keep the privilege that this hotel gives me. Come on now Nikolaev, you want to die just like how exactly your father died? Your father died of greed, and if you don’t make a decision now, you’ll die the same way as him.” She groaned and finally tapped the floor thrice, telling you that she’ll finally give in.
“Great choice, that’s more like it!” You lessen you hold at her, but never really letting her go, “If people are more cooperative, they won’t end up in situation like what we are currently in.” You smiled.
“Tarasov. Abram Tarasov,” She grunted, “You can start by going to one of his warehouses that’s located in Queens. Where he stashes his money and doing his business. If you want to taunt him and come out of hiding, you better want to start there, and you need to get going if you want to catch up to him.“
“Alright. Thank you so much for being cooperative.” With one strong hit from your elbow, you had knocked her out cold.
You heard a door open and cocking of a gun. You turned your attention towards the sound, and saw your fellow assassin, Lee, point his gun at you.
“Oh hey Lee! Long time no see.” You smiled softly at him.
“Is there any problem here?”
“No. No problem here, just dealing with an uninvited guest,” You pointed at Anya chuckled and he retracted his gun, “Say, Lee, do you happen to have a plastic wire lock with you? If you have handcuffs, much better.”
“I’ll take a look and see what I can find.”
“Thanks, Lee!” He closed his door.
You’re still holding onto Anya as you wait for Lee. The door opened and you saw Lee, he handed you a thick belt.
“I only have this belt with me right now.” You grabbed the belt.
“Kind of kinky, but that will do. Thanks, Lee!” You smiled. He nodded at you and closed his door.
You began tying Anya’s hands behind her with the belt that Lee gave you. After you’re done tying her up, you drag her back inside your room by her feet and placing her on the couch.
“God, for a woman so small, I never knew how heavy you were.” You slumped down by the foot of the bed to catch your breath.
So much for a peaceful evening.
You grabbed a wet cloth and wiped the bloodstains on your face, and as you look at the mirror, Anya really did a few numbers at you.
Of all parts of my body she can hit, he literally chooses the money making face. What a bitch.
As you continued on wiping the remaining bloodstains on your face and checking up on your wound, you heard a grunt right outside of your bathroom. You had left your bathroom door opened in case Anya finally regain her consciousness, in which she did.
“Had a good sleep, darling?” You smiled and stood in front of her, “You know very well that the management won’t take the stunt you pulled lightly.” You added.
What you didn’t know is that as you speak, Anya is already attempting to free herself from the belt. Anya is one of many things, and that things is that she can escape from anything that was restraining her. A modern day Houdini, as you would call it. Just when you’re about to get up and get ready in heading to Queens, she had escaped. Anya had lunged at you, with you falling in a loud thud. She made her escape at your door, you quickly got up and followed her.
Lee had came out from his room with his gun pointed at Anya, but with a blink of an eye, Anya had fired a shot at Lee. Shooting him right on the chest.
“Shit!” You rushed towards Lee, “Hey, Lee! Come on, stay awake!” You began putting pressure on his chest, but he was bleeding heavily, so you had put a pressure on it using your knee.
Anya had already made her escape, and it’s already too late to go after her at this point. You don’t want to leave the pressure that you’re putting on Lee’s chest, because if you did, he can die. But you have no choice, if you went inside Lee’s room and phone the concierge, you’ll be able to save him. Just when you’re about to remove the pressure from Lee’s chest, helped had already arrived. Turns out that someone saw you by the hallways and called the concierge.
“Ms. Jovanovich, we’ll take it from here.” You nodded at the man.
So much for a peaceful fucking evening.
You went back to your room and phoned the concierge. You’ll still be needing a room once you’re done with your business in the Queens, and that won’t do if the door in your is broken.
“Hi, is it possible if I can request a new room?”
“Yes, Ms. Jovanovich, I’ll get to it right now. You can pick up your new room key anytime.”
“Alright, thanks.” You sighed.
You began changing to your suit and geared up. If you want to make it to Queens and catch Abram, you better get moving.
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When you arrived in Queens, it was dark and quiet. The only sounds were the distant hum of the cars passing by and occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. You made your way to Abram’s one of many warehouses, you had use the dark to your advantage and crept along the wall of the building, your movements were quick and quiet. You know damn well that Abram won’t make this easy for you.
As your about to make your way inside the warehouse, you suddenly heard a noise behind you. Before you can react, there was a heavy blow to the back of your head that had sent you reeling, collapsing to the ground completely unconscious. Your body being dragged on the pavement and into the warehouse.
What you didn’t know is that Peter had seen what had happened. He was out in the neighborhood, doing his nightly patrols and swinging through the city, when he saw a bunch of men dragging a woman into the building. He wanted to storm inside the building and save the woman, but he doesn’t want to storm inside without a concrete plan. So he immediately get into forming a plan and swinging to the building right after.
When you had regained your consciousness, you had found yourself seated in a chair and hancuffes inside a dimly lit room. Infront of you is Abram Tarasov, with a couple of his loyal henchmen. He was sporting a cold and calculating expression on his face. You had tried to get up from the chair to attack him, but you were pushed back down.
“You’re quite a daring one, aren’t you?” He spoke, “I thought that you’d be more like your father, but turns out you’re reckless.”
“You’re uglier than how I had pictured you out to be.” You fired back.
“There it is. I heard that you’ve got a smart mouth and actually more talkative than your father.” He let out a loud laugh.
He began walking, circling around your chair, his eyes locked at you, and you were not breaking the eye contact with him. Finally, he stopped in front of you and leaned in close with little proximity. You didn’t even flinch at his intimidation, you had been trained to withstand interrogations and intimidations like this.
“You had made this very easy for me. Willingly walked right into my territory. Did you even thought of a plan before you came here, or you decided to test your luck?” He chuckled, “Either way, скоро ты увидишь папу и мамочку. Так что расслабься.”
“Ты, чертов кусок дерьма, подожди, пока я не доберусь до тебя. Я пущу тебе пулю прямо в голову.” You sneered.
Abram remained stoic and silent, his henchmen waiting for his orders. He stared at you for a long moment, before suddenly nodding his head, a silent command to his loyal henchment. All of a sudden, a plastic bag had been put in your head, one of the henchmen had gripped the seal of the plastic, making it for you a little bit harder to breathe due to the lack of oxygen.
“So much for being John Wick’s daughter. I had expected a lot from you, never knew I’ll have you this easy,” He shrugged, he pat your cheeks softly, “I’ll be going now. You take care of her.” He added.
“Yes, sir!”
Abram turned to leave the warehouse. The henchmen kept on tightening the plastic, and every second it’s getting harder to breathe. You began working on freeing your hands off of the handcuffs, you began slowly in breaking your thumb so that your hand can slip out of the cuffs easily. It did hurt like a bitch, but it did the job on setting yourself free.
Is this how dying felt like? I just felt like my life flashed before my eyes.
You had successfully slip one hand from the cuffs, you immediately stood up and kick the man who was holding the plastic in the groin and whack the other man with the handcuffs right in the head. You removed the plastic off of your head and the handcuffs from your other hand. The man who you had kicked in the groin had gotten back up and attacked you. You’re about to fight back when the man who attacked you had been sent flying back, you weren’t able to notice the one who did it until you turned around, getting a clearer view.
“Peter?!” Your eyes widened, “The hell are you doing here?!” You know that he’s shock as well, even if his face was being hidden under the mask.
“(Y/N)?! You were the one that they had kidnapped?!”
“Well I wouldn’t call it kidnapping, persé. I was ambushed, didn’t know that they were on the same area that I was in.”
The man that Peter attacked when he came bursting through the window had stood up and quickly attacking you with a knife. But you were quicker than him, pulling out your gun at a speed and firing at his head.
“Stay down!” You shouted at the man.
“Did you just kill the man?!” Shocked, again.
“Uh, yeah. Why are you so shocked that I killed the man? You don’t kill your enemies when you encounter one?” You asked him, confused.
“No! I just knock them out and hold them down until the authorities arrive.”
“Well then, there’s a first time for everything, welcome to my world,” You chuckled, “You can’t leave anyone alive, you don’t want them coming after you, and especially since you’re already involved with me.” You added.
“Aren’t they just regular gangs? I often encounter some of them during my patrols.”
“Not these guys. They’re not regular gangs, they are from a mob,” You put your hand in your hips and sighed, “Okay, we don’t have enough time. I don’t have enough time to go through all of the basics, save it for next time.”
The man that you had just whacked with your handcuffs in the head had regained consciousness while both you and Peter are talking and had managed to call for a back up. You heard a bunch footsteps coming towards the area that you and Peter are in, you shot the man in the neck.
“Backups are coming. The man that I just killed has certainly saw you and radioed for backup.” You brought your fist at Peter, he bumped it with you, “You nervous? We got this, Parker. No need to worry.”
It will be your first time fighting of a group of henchmen with someone, you always do this alone, so you were a bit pumped up and excited.
Soon enough, both you and Peter had been surrounded by heavily armed men, they are carrying arrays of weapons like guns and knives. With men blocking your only exit of the warehouse, the both of you have no choice but to fight your way out of the place. The men began firing at both you and Peter, the both of you quickly took cover behind the old crates, the bullets ricocheting off the metals of the warehouse. You both need to come up with a plan fast or else you’ll both be dead meat.
“So…any ideas?” Peter asked you as he dodged a hail of bullets. You tried to peek through discreetly, your mind already racing as you scanned the area.
“We need to get closer to them, they are carrying long-range weapons. If we can get in close, we can both take them all out. Can you make a diversion for me so that I can get closer to them unnoticed?” Peter nodded.
“Alright, I got you.”
Both of you left your hiding spot. Peter used his web-slinging skills by making use of the environment to swing around and divert the attention to him to buy you time to get closer to the men, he was dodging bullets and avoiding the enemy’s line of fire. You stealthily move close to the men, taking out one of your trusty knife and the men out swiftly one by one.
You didn’t go unnoticed for too long, so you ditched your knife and grabbed your gun, firing headshot after head shot. Peter leaped down from the rafters, landing himself in front of the group. The men pointed their weapon at Peter and was about to shoot him, but he was quick and webbed the guns from their hands and taking them down by hand to hand combat, making use of his series of acrobatic moves and webs. You had suddenly ran out of bullets when you tried to fire it and the man that you were about to shoot never failed to notice.
“Fucking hell.” Peter turned to you.
“You okay?” He asked and you nodded.
You ditched your gun and threw it on the ground. With speed, you attacked the man that you were about to shoot, blocking the man’s punches at you. In no time, you had regained the upper hand and had him on chokehold, you grabbed the man’s hand that was holding the gun and firing it at his throat. You make use of the man as your shield and his gun, and firing at the remaining men. As the last man you shot fell on the ground with a loud thud, both you and Peter had let out a breath of relief, panting hard and catching your breath. You both are exhausted, and your suit are all covered with blood, face all lightly bruised up.
You both looked around at the dead bodies, and you weren’t gonna lie, it was a lot of bodies. Maybe fifteen or twenty? You don’t know, you didn’t bother counting, just an estimate.
“Shit. What are we going to do with all these bodies?” Peter asked you in panic as he removed his mask.
“Don’t worry, I got this covered,” You pulled out your phone, “Hello, I would like to have a dinner reservation. Thank you.”
“A…what?”
“It’s a code phrase for a service if you want them to dispose the bodies. Oh and might want to put back your mask.” Peter quickly put back his mask.
You heard the a vehicle pulled out just right outside. The crew had come in to dispose the bodies.
“Good to see you again, Ms. Jovanovich.” Charlie greeted you.
“Likewise, Charlie. I hope you’re having a good night.”
“I am, Ms. Jovanovich.” Charlie nodded at his men and they began sweeping the place clean.
After Charlie’s men sweep off the warehouse clean, you gave him gold coins as a payment for his services.
“Thank you, Charlie.” You smiled at the old man.
“Anytime, Ms. Jovanovich.” He smiled back, and left the warehouse with his men.
“Now that the bodies were taken care of, how about we bounce out of here?” Peter nodded. You walked out of the area and into the streets.
“Not gonna lie, that was a bit intense back there,” Peter said and you nodded in agreement, “But we made a pretty good team, huh.” You laughed and high fived each other.
“Definitely.” You chuckled.
Although, you can’t shake off the fact that Peter is now involved with you. He’s practically kind of an avenger, and you had a strict rule to not get any avengers member involved in your business—your business is your business alone. But you can’t blame Peter though, he doesn’t know that you were the one that the mob ambushed or kidnapped. He was just doing his job of keeping his neighborhood safe.
Even if you had managed to kill the one who called for backup, you’re sure that Tarasov had already been informed of what had happened at his warehouse and knew that someone was with you, helping you. Peter may be wearing a mask and have no clue on who he is, but they will always find a way to figure out his identity.
“You do know that you’re now involved with me,” You spoke, “Those men back there that we had dealt with are no ordinary people. They belong to the person who’s after me right now, and I don’t want you getting hurt or be involved in this messy situation. It’s already messy as it is.”
“Hey, they won’t be able to hurt me. They don’t even know who’s under this mask.” Peter assured you, you know very well that he’s smiling under the mask.
“Even if they don’t know you under the mask, these people that I’m dealing with are no ordinary street gang, like the ones that you’ll encounter on the streets, they are powerful. They can and they will find out who you are.” You sighed.
“If you notice something different, any anomalies, contact me immediately. You don’t know what these people are capable of, they will not just be coming after you, but people you’re close with, people you love. In any way, do not contact any avengers, I don’t want of them being involved.” You strictly said.
“But-“ You cut him off.
“No buts! Just do as I say, okay? It’s already bad as it is, no need to add more fuel to the fire,” Peter nodded, “Call me if something happens, got it? I’m dead serious, Peter.”
“Got it.” He nodded.
“Good,” You smiled softly at him, “Thank you for helping me back there, Peter.”
“No problem. Anytime.”
“Have a goodnight, Spider-man.”
“You too.” He nodded and gave you a friendly salute as his goodbye and swinging away.
What a night. It has been a very tiring night for you and you really want to get some proper sleep. You are really thankful for Peter helping you back there, you can easily handle those men by yourself, but with Peter’s help, you realized how quick the work was done. You also realize that you were so used to doing things on your own, and maybe it wasn’t so bad in having a helping hand.
However, you can’t shake off the fact that Peter is now involved in this mix. You hoped that Tarasov won’t be able to figure out Peter Parker being the spider-man, he can easily do something with those people that Peter are very close with the moment that he finds out that Peter is spider-man, and Tarasov hurting those people that Peter is close with is the last thing that you want to happen.
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TRANSLATIONS:
“скоро ты увидишь папу и мамочку. Так что расслабься.” - you will be seeing daddy and mommy dearest soon enough. so relax.
“Ты, чертов кусок дерьма, подожди, пока я не доберусь до тебя. Я пущу тебе пулю прямо в голову.” - you fucking piece of shit, wait until i get my hands on you. i will put a bullet right through your head.
*** russian translations are not accurate, i’m only using google translate.
TAGLIST:
@sirimiripetrichor @nimo-jay @preciousbabypeter @graysonmalik2550 @khaleesihavilliard
72 notes · View notes
olivia091108 · 8 months
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Crimson
Summary:bam gets his heartagram tattoo done
Word count:1.8k
Pairing:bam margera x reader
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I have just finished checking out my last client and it has gone quicker than I thought so maybe today I’ll actually be able to go out and meet some of my friends.
I walk into the back room to say goodbye and grab my things when I heard Holly shout my name in a hurry, I turn around and face her 
“Everything alright”
“ I’ve just thrown up in the bathroom can you take my last customer I feel awful please”
After thinking it through, I can’t really say no if she feels ill, “ alright, hope you feel better”
“Thank you so much. I totally owe you one”
From behind me I hear ruby “girl she is so faking I heard her in the bathroom, talking to one of her friends and they’re gonna go to a club because apparently some famous dudes are there”
“ You’re kidding, at least I can still hang out with you though”
“About that I did overtime yesterday, so I get to finish early today. So here’s the keys lock up as soon as you’re done and maybe you’re still have time to meet your friends.”
“Do you mean I’m here all by myself? What if there’s some creepy dude, an-“
“You’ll be fine, and if anything goes wrong, just call me love you”
“Love you too I call out to her as she leaves the shop”
I walk back over to my station and get my stuff set up and putting on another layer of my crimson lipstick and putting in my earphones, trying to pass the time
BAMS POV
Who into the tattoo parlour not seeing anyone so I ring the bell on the front desk. nothing. I try again. Nothing. maybe they’re in the back. I wander off to the back of the shop and see a girl facing away from me. 
“Hello?”she doesn’t hear me so I tap her shoulder
YOUR POV
I feel someone grab my shoulder and without hesitating i scream so high I’m surprised the glass didn’t break and swung on whoever was behind me feeling my fist connect with a face.
 As if something in my brain switched on, I realised that he is probably my client who I have now just punched in the face and his Crimson blood is dripping from his nose.
“I’m so sorry”
With the hand that isn’t holding his nose he pulls out my earphones and I realise I must’ve shouted in his face s this time I say it much quieter “I’m so sorry”
“Nah your’e fine at least you threw a good punch.” He tries to joke but I feel even worse I grab him some tissues to clean up the blood on his face, and then I realise how handsome he is with his dark, brown, almost black hair, piercing blue eyes, and has a small mole on his face.
“Umm well I’m y/n I’m gonna be doing your tattoo so if you can take a seat.”
“I’m bam”
“Have you gotten any tattoos before bam?”
“Yh a few”
“What were you thinking of getting today”
“A heartagram right here” he points to right above his dick.
The thought of being that close to his dock not just anyone’s but a VERY handsome man’s dick makes me feel a bit shy and awkward.
“Cool super cool” he laughs a bit at my awkwardness “yeah I thought so too”
He lays back on the recliner chair and pulls his top up revealing his torsos and while I was staring eh started to unbuckle his belt and pull down his jeans more showing off his prominent v line.
I quickly snap out of it and draw out a stencil and double check that he likes it. I try to get in a position where I don’t have to lay sideways to do the tattoo but no luck
“Sorry can I just”I squeeze between bams legs and he manspreads more to give me some space so now my face is inline with his dick. Usually in the position I wouldn’t be giving tattoos and he knows that as well since he has a coy smile on his face.
As I’m getting ready to tattoo him I start to make conversation to distract him from the tattoo.
“You doing anything fun this weekend”
“ Yeah actually after this meeting up with a few of my friends at a club and have some drinks but I’m only visiting for the weekend so I’m probably gonna look round and shit” I feel a tinsy bit jealous but continue with the tattoo
“What about you?”he asks staring down at me probably getting a great view down my cleavage but I’m not complaining he’s one of the hotties men I’ve ever seen.
“Well, I was planning to do the same, but the girl who was originally supposed to tattoo you felt ill, so I had to cover for her. And tomorrow, I’m meeting up with my friend bill. I haven’t seen him in awhile because his girlfriend has gotten pregnant.”
I hear my phone pain, but I’m doing a detailed part of the tattoo so I asked them to read it out. It’s not like I’ll be anything weird since I’m undeniably single
“William says sorry I can’t make it tomorrow. Chloe wants us to look for cribs and stuff maybe another time” my face does drop a bit,but just ignore it and focus on the tattoo
“So I get why bill is short for William and Bob for Robert, but how do you get dick from Richard?”He asks sound like it’s been frustrating him for awhile. And without thinking I reply “you ask him nicely”
He breaks into a fit of laughter and I quickly move the tattoo gun off him so it doesn’t mess up. “Your funny y/n”
Can you bring your jeans down a bit lower please?”I say feeling all the blood rush to my face. He shuffles them down even more almost seeing the start of his dick
“Anywhere you think I should see while visiting?”
“There’s a  fair that seems quite good  or you can go to the pier with you’re Girlfriend it might be a bit busy but there’s loads of stuff to do down there”
“I don’t have a girlfriend”
“Oh sorry, I just thought since you’re so handsome that you would have a girlfriend I’m sorry”I whip my hand over my mouth not meaning to say that
“It’s fine it ain’t a big deal”he assured me “wanna know a fun fact” “yeah sure”
“My dick was in the world book of records” my face flushed probably the same colour as my lipstick “oh wow um nice”
“Yeah but then the librarian told me to take it out” he stares down at me, watching me laugh at his joke, and when I look up, I catch him staring down my cleavage, and now he’s the one to blush 
“So, where are you visiting from anyway?”
“West Chester, Pennsylvania”
Oh wow, I have a friend who lived on there. I visited her a couple times,and she tried to teach me to skate but I wasn’t very good but she said that there’s this really annoying famous man who lives down there and destroys things and plays his music so loud till like 5am. People like that are such jackass’
“Yeahh they definitely are”
“Your all done” he stands up to look in the body length mirror and stares at the tattoo. “That’s sick thanks how much do I owe”
“$160” he grabs a wad of cash all in 100s and gives me $200 and tells me to keep the change and leaves the shop
I check the time on my watch 10:34 too late. I start clearing my stuff away and making sure everything is switched off. I look in the mirror and see my lipstick has come off so I reapply before leaving the shop and locking it
I dont get too far until I hear my name being called and I hear bam calling my name. “Did you forget something”
“No I was just gonna see if you wanted to come out for a few drinks tonight.?”
“I really would but I’m so broke right now and I’m not really dressed for a club”
“You look great and it’s all on me” I look down at my outfit my denim skirt that some people would say is too short and my deep cut red top. It will do.
“Ok yeah that would be nice” we walk to the club and when we get there there’s a huge line and a billboard above saying JACKASS APPEARANCE this is probably where holly went too she lives jackass she’s always rambling
I walk to the bcak if the line to start queuing but bam takes my hand and we walk to the first of the line “bam what are you doing we can’t cut in” the bouncer just asks “who’s she?” “She’s with me” and just like that we’re in
“What the fuck hwo did you do that?
“I’m apart of jackass” as he says that I see all his friends come over
“Y/n this is Johnny, Steve o,wee man and Ryan”
“Hi it’s nice to meet you” we chat and have some drinks for a bit before they all separate and me and bam start doing shots and me being a lightweight I’m already drunk.
Over the speakers I hear hit in here by nelly playing. “Omg I love this song come dance with me” I didn’t really give him a choice as I dragged him to the dance floor and began to grind on him. Throughout the song we have been getting closer and closer so now our lips are almost touching.
I reach up and kiss him and pull away just as quick for a second I thought you read the signals wrong until bam pulls me back into the kiss and kisses me even harder and my arms wrap round his neck and I feel his arms snake round my waist. He bites onto my bottom lip which makes a moan slip out and he starts to kiss down my neck and soon enough finds my sweet spot and he nips at it and I already know that there will be a bright hickey tomorrow morning.
I move my head down and catch his lips into a kiss again but we disconnect when we feel a bright light on us and over the speakers we here johnnys voice “there he is he was too busy trying to get laid.”everyone laughs at that including me and in the bright light I can see that my lipstick is all over his face. I grab his hand and drag him out hearing whistles coming from behind.
“You might as well prove him right”
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-liv
This acc took so long but I feel like I could have done better
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mortifiedatbeingknown · 9 months
Text
"An Odd Little Thing" (Pt. 4)
Masterpost:
The monster snored. Very, very loudly. But they were asleep, and that was a relief. If it was asleep, it couldn’t scrap, or hurt, or turn him off. He’d be safe, at least for a few hours. 
Safe…but still trapped. 
He had hoped that with enough of a charge he’d be able to escape, but he was quickly finding out that no amount of power could move his rusted joints. And if by some miracle he managed… 
A loud, hideous squeak echoed throughout the dungeon. No, no! He’d wake the monster right up! 
But if he just waited here… 
Does not compute. 
Does not compute. 
He let the blue screen fill his vision. What was the point of rebooting? No one was expecting any use out of him. His programs weren’t needed. Quite simply… he had outlived his purpose. 
I don’t want to die. 
Not here. Not at the hands of a monster in dark, dingy, unfamiliar room. If could have a choice… he would have wanted it at the hands of his masters, being able to offer one last play time. 
Surgery time! Put the patient under! 
A sticky, sugar-coated finger would press against the power button on his neck, and he’d hang limp, his processors writhing and twisting in an endless conflict of hope and dread. Hope that this time, maybe this time, nothing bad would happen. The fear that he would never come back or turn on again. That this time… he would be too broken. And of course, the dread. Dread that came from the knowledge of a repeated pattern he knew all too well. Because if every time he woke back up, and if every time it was in even more pain than before, then it would happen again. His gears would find a way to keep clicking. Because the game never stopped, no matter how hard he begged. Begging was part of the fun, just like the paint, just like the gum, just like the surgeries. 
Why hadn’t he given up earlier? 
Because you still had purpose. You had a function. 
But now, all that was left was the privilege of not caring anymore. 
********************
She awoke with a sore neck and a hard imprint of the mechanical arm she was working on stamped against her cheek. I must have fallen asleep at my desk again… 
She sighed. 
What time was it anyways? She glanced at the darkness outside the window, and then to the clock on the wall. Just a little past midnight… of course it was. She stood up, stretched, and went to wash her face. It was a little early, sure… but it wasn’t as if she had anything better to do. Her dreams hadn’t been all that pleasant anyways. 
From behind her, a single glowing eye stared, cracked optic sending scatters of orange light throughout the workshop. 
“Still awake?” 
She should've remembered. Sleep Mode kicked in automatically for most androids, but if the internal timer was malfunctioning… then it wouldn't be a stretch to assume any time-dependent programming would fail too.Ugh… she should’ve remembered to turn him off before falling asleep. 
Not like the thing would ever let me. 
She cleared her throat. “Sorry. You must have been pretty bored, eh?” 
No response. 
Huh. This was new. Had his audio processors finally broken down? She snapped on her goggles, tied her face mask around her mouth and nose, and worked her way around her mounds of junk to her newest project. 
“Hey.” She said. 
The robot didn’t even twitch. 
She picked it up and yelled in its ear. “HEY!” 
A very noticeable flinch. So the processors were working. It was just ignoring her. 
Why, the little—! She bit her tongue. The last thing she wanted was for it to start crying again. Instead, she kept her tone neutral. 
“I’m going to run the rest of the diagnostics now, OK? After that, I’ll see if I can get rid of that rust.” 
She set the android down on her desk, after clearing as much space off as she could. With a little adjustment, the overhead light shone directly above in the perfect position. “Just let me get my tools ready. I’ll be right back.” 
That was a lie, sort of. Most of what she needed was already there. But she needed an excuse to look away, to not have that cracked, orange gaze burning into her soul. Why did she salvage a model with eyes, if she couldn’t even handle nonhumans looking at her? 
She pretended to sweep the grounds, picking up random wires and a spare wrench or two that had wandered away from her tool belt. Wait… maybe there is something… 
She straightened. “I’ll be upstairs.” She said, and closed the door behind her. 
Five seconds later, she popped back in.
 “Wait, I should do this first, right?” 
Without another word, she retrieved the rag previously used as a blanket and wrapped it once again around the robot’s shoulders. 
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fandsart · 1 year
Text
Wishing for Roses
I didn’t expect to write anything for Valentine’s Day, but I got this idea at work in the middle of the day, so it’s a bit late in the day now
1983. Some girl comes into class and starts passing out roses for the school telegram program. Eddie hates Valentine's Day for the obvious consumer problem of it all, but it's also always just been a bit of a bummer to be left out of all kinds of festivities every year. With the roll of the eyes, he returns back to his worksheet, doodling in the free spaces.
He's working on some kind of sea demon and is debating on giving it a trident or something when a plop on his desk startles him from his focus. He looks up at the girl handing out the telegrams, waiting for her to 'whoops, I dropped this.' Instead she moves on. Eddie looks around the class, waiting for the snickers to start up. He checks the tag, finding that his name is actually printed on the paper; no message though. Obviously this is some kind of prank, in which case, whoever set it up would be ready to point out the absurdity to the rest of the class. But everyone else is either too focused on their own roses, or their disappointment, or anticipation as the girl works her way over to their tables. Instead of looking at the broad overlay of the room, Eddie decides to think of who is the most likely in the class to pull this kind of prank and hone in on their reaction.
Steve Harrington sits across the classroom and a row behind him. He is, in fact, the only one in the room who isn't following the crowd of the room. He's looking out the window, away from Eddie. The rose girl hasn't reached him yet, and Eddie feels like he knows how this is going to go down, how Harrington has probably scripted this out. He's going to get however many roses he's about to get. Popular jock he is will probably get a fucking dozen at least. Then he'll reveal that he sent Eddie's as a prank and his own stack of roses will certainly help with the statement of the whole thing. Harrington gets more than he needs of everything constantly and the only thing Eddie will ever get is a joke.
But the girl passes Steve's table, dropping nothing, and he doesn't even react. Ok, maybe Steve isn't the one who sent Eddie's rose.  Maybe he bribed someone to get his early. Honestly it doesn't matter, because now Eddie has a real mystery on his hands. He doesn't want to rule out that this could be a prank, but everyone knew the telegrams would be delivered during second period and why would someone send a prank when they couldn't even fulfill the thing. He didn't want to get his hopes up, but it actually seemed like he'd gotten a genuine telegram from someone. And well, it's not exactly like much will likely come of it, Eddie being gay and all, but it's a nice thought that he's not universally hated by everyone outside of his friend group.
He brings it up to the rest of the Hellfire Club later at lunch. He figures it's super possible that one of them decided to send it as an act of friendship or something. Seems a bit more of an actively affectionate act than his friends tend to participate in, but that's his best guess. But no, none of them sent it. The idea that it was a prank does come up, but Eddie sights all his reasons against it.
"It's still possible though," Gareth says cautiously.
"Yeah, I'm aware of that," Eddie says. "But I figure it's gotta be like a twenty percent chance at this point. And I'd still like to know who sent it. Besides, what kind of prank is it to not draw attention to?"
"The kind that makes you lose your mind in your own bafflement?" Nate asks. "Ok, sure. Thirty percent chance it's  a prank."
"Still, wouldn't you rather just let it go," Jeff suggests. "Either it's a prank or you're just going to draw attention to yourself trying to figure it out, and the big dogs around here are going to think you're doing the whole 'fake girlfriend' thing."
"I'm always drawing attention to myself at risk of social perspective. I don't think this is going to make people think any less of me."
"Well it's good you think that," Gareth says, "because you've been waving that rose around this whole time and Hagan and Harrington is coming this way. Heads up."
"Gift that to yourself, Munson?"
"Well, I was hoping it would still have thorns on it so I could slice your face open and say it was the school's fault for giving it to me," he snarks. "Oh well, se la vie."
"Do you know who gave it to you?" Steve asks.
"Bet she's 'from a different school,'" Hagan cackles with his baby hyena laugh.
"People from other schools can't send telegrams," Steve tells him.
"Yes! Exactly!"
"We don't know who sent it," Gareth interrupts.
"Well doesn't that just figure. So either she's fake, or there's some secret girl freak around here."
"Hey, Carol's here." Steve nods towards the entrance of the cafeteria where Carol Perkins strolls in.
"Hey, Carol!" Tommy calls. "Guess who got-"
"God, Tommy," Steve interrupts. "You can tell her when we sit down to eat. Yes, there's gotta be something seriously wrong with whoever sent that, but can we just go eat. I missed breakfast."
"Fine, fine." They turn to leave. "She's gonna flip though," Eddie hears him say as they get further away.
The rose doesn't make it home. Doesn't even make it outside the cafeteria room before it gets in the trash. Even in the small chance that it was serious, he feels less guilty getting rid of it when he sees a few other roses already in the bin.
He doesn't really think about it until the next Valentine's day when he gets another. He's even more prepared for this to be a prank than last time, given it got around that he sent himself one last year. But nothing comes. He makes sure to not carry it around with him this time. It comes home with him this year, 1984. It's not until he gets home this time that he realizes there's a message on the tag this time.
Sorry about the trouble from last year. Sorry I can't sign this off as "secret admirer." I don't have a crush on you or anything, but I think you're cool.
Ok, so this is some kind of weird platonic telegram. Except the only times he's ever seen that happening is between people who are already friends. He can only hope that this is some kind of gay boy in denial, but it's entirely possible that it's a straight girl in denial about her taste in men. 'He can only hope?' No. No no no no no. He's not going to start hoping that something comes of this. First of all, Eddie is a senior, a super senior at that. He's already ready to leave Hawkins and if it is the case that this is a gay denial case, then he can't really expect that they'll get over it in time for Eddie to graduate in like 4 months. Especially when whoever it is had been fixated on him for a year and still hasn't come to.
Most likely it's a girl, and if not, it's not worth dwelling on. Besides, if his first one came last year, whoever it was must have been a freshman and he was still a senior last year so that just feels like it would be a bit creepy.
It was probably just some underclassman who admired Eddie's self assuredness and open expression so sent one once, then felt embarrassed for Eddie when it got out of hand and just wanted to put through an apology. It's not a big deal.
=0=
Apparently it is a big deal though, because apparently it wasn't just an admiring underclassman who sent them, it was Steve fucking Harrington.
=0=
"I guess I couldn't accept the fact that Steve Harrington was actually... a good dude... and fuck I mean, I can't even believe I'm saying that after how you were in high school."
Steve snorts. "Yeah? You have a crush on Tammy too, or is this about my old friendship with Tommy."
"I don't really know what Tammy has to do with this, but I was mostly thinking about how there would 'have to be something seriously wrong with someone to like men's as you apparently thought."
Steve stops in his tracks. "Right. That whole thing."
"I'm surprised you remember. I mean, I get how that conversation would seem less impactful to you than me. Less memorable"
"I never said there would have to be something wrong with someone for liking you."
"Pretty sure that's exactly what you said. Again, I'm sure I remember it better than you."
"That might have been more memorable to me than you might think. I didn't say that. I said there must have been wrong with whoever sent the telegram."
"That's the same thing in that context."
"Not when you know who sent it."
Eddie sighs. "So it was a prank. Gotta admit, sending a second rose was a clever coverup."
"It wasn't a prank," Steve groans. "Why would someone try to coverup a prank anyway? That defeats the entire point."
"Ok, so if it wasn't a prank then we're just talking in circles. You think there's something wrong with someone because they sent me a rose. Are you going to tell me who it is by the way, or are you sworn to secrecy?"
"I sent you the fucking rose! Ok?"
It takes Eddie a moment to process that and he has to catch up with Steve who is storming ahead now. "But not as a prank?"
"No, man. I don't prank people."
"So... why?"
"I don't know, man. First time was on a whim. Second time I couldn't stop thinking about the previous year and how embarrassing that whole situation was. Figured I owed you an apology."
"You sent it... on a whim?"
"Yeah, man, kinda."
"'Kinda?' So you did have reasoning."
Steve groans. "Ok, yes. It's not like I drew the decision out of a hat. It's just... I thought you were cool, man. And I also knew you never got any and I never did either, so I just... I don't know. It was stupid."
"There's... so much to unpack here. First of all, that's... really sweet actually. Not stupid. Wait, what do you mean you never got any? Everyone fucking loves you."
"Literally name one person."
"Nancy."
Steve actually scoffs at the suggestion. "I liked her and opened her mind to the idea after an honestly embarrassing amount of time trying to woo her. The only people who actually chase after me don't want to get cute with me. They want what I'm capable of. No one's sending me fucking-" he let's out a broken laugh. "Yeah, I mean sure, if I bring someone's attention to it I guess. I've had Valentine's dates before, but I'm always the one to ask. I'm just not... associated with it I guess. And that's fine, you know. But that's why I sent them, you know? I felt bad because you probably don't even get to have that problem."
"I don't need your pity."
"Yeah, whatever. Sorry. I was just trying to be nice. Always fucking that up, huh?"
"No, just... for future reference ok? Don't go beating yourself up over it." Then an earthquake hit again.
Part 2>>
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liberacesghost · 1 year
Text
Day 6 -- Person A Knows Person B's Coffee Order
let's try that again! just wanna shout out @doctorsteths-fluffyfeb again, because i'm having a good time writing, but also having a good time reading. so if you're all not on that shit, get into it!!
warnings: cussing cause i literally cannot; mentions of them on a case but nothing graphic
pairing: hotch x reader sorta (use of y/n) they're not actually together and they don't actually get together, but you'll see
word count: 769
a/n: i know how super late i am pls forgive me <33
Coffee was the lifeblood of the BAU. The driving force that kept them going the long hours they had to work. The sweet nectar that fueled their bodies and minds.
And this coffee at the tiny mid-western precinct they were currently at fucking sucked. And that was putting it mildly. 
“I can’t do this. It’s been days and I need decent coffee in my system”, you say standing up. “I need a break anyway.”
The case was going…slow. Well, more accurately the team’s progress was going slow. The unsub was decidedly not slow. He was leaving a trail of bodies quicker than you could process the evidence. And yet, you were no closer to actually catching him. 
Frustrated by not only the lack of breaks in the case, but the added insult of shitty coffee was almost unbearable. 
“I’ll make a quick run - let me know what you all want”, you say to the room at large as you put on your coat, which includes Rossi, Derek, Spencer, and Emily. 
After getting their drinks all written down, you head to ask Hotch and JJ. You find them in an office that’s being repurposed for the BAU’s benefit. 
“Hey guys”, you say hanging onto the doorframe. “I’m going on a coffee run. Do you want anything?”
“Oh, tea would be amazing, thanks”, JJ says with a smile. 
Hotch nods and opens his mouth to speak, but before he can, you cut him off pointing a finger at him, “A large black coffee, no cream, 1 sugar. I know.” Then you’re out of the door before Hotch can do much more than nod again, quite uselessly. 
He’s staring into the space you just were, mouth slightly open. He didn’t think anybody paid attention to his usual order. He didn’t think you paid attention. He’d be an absolute liar if he said his heart didn’t clench almost painfully in his chest. The thought of someone listening and picking up on what he likes – well, not just somebody, but you. It’s enough to keep him from doing anything useful for a lot longer than he’d like to admit. Hoping beyond hope that his cheeks were not pinkening. 
It’s not until JJ pointedly coughs that Aaron is snapped out of it, head jerking towards the blonde. She gives him a knowing smirk, before going back to the notepad in front of her. Purposefully (and very professionally) not mentioning the coloring occurring on his face and his ears. 
Some time later, JJ has moved back to the conference room leaving Hotch alone in “his” office to scribble away at the endless reports. 
Lost in the writing and rewriting he’s felt he’s been constantly doing since he got here, he doesn’t hear footsteps approaching. It’s not until he hears the soft thud of the cardboard coffee cup on his desk, that he stops. He looks up to see you looking at him with a soft, almost shy smile. 
He looks at you like he’s seeing you for the first time.
Your timid smile. The way your eyes meet his before quickly flitting away. Teeth worrying your bottom lip. 
How he never saw it before is absolutely beyond him.
“Here you go, boss”, you say softly. 
You both just stare at each other, restrained smiles on your faces. 
The seconds turn into minutes, before you shake your head as if you’re clearing your thoughts away like an etch-a-sketch. “I also got some snacks if you’d like”, thumb pointing over your shoulder. “They’re in the conference room.”
Aaron is too stunned to say or do anything. This sudden realization that maybe, just maybe, you could feel the same way as him is overwhelming. 
When he doesn’t respond, you give him a jerky nod of your head before turning around and making your way out the room. 
Hotch says your name so softly, you turn around quickly, almost in alarm. 
Remembering that they’re on an active case and he’s still the goddamn unit chief, he catches himself before he says something incredibly telling. 
“Thank you”, he says instead. 
You look at him, brows furrowing for a brief second, eyes roaming his face and posture for something. Something he left unsaid, something he was going to say, something you wanted him to say – you weren’t sure. So you simply look him in the eyes, a small almost smirk on your face, and give him a nod before making your way back to the conference room. Leaving Hotch in his makeshift office alone with the coffee you got him, the swirling thoughts inside his head, and the ache in his chest.
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lovesicks4pphic · 2 years
Text
Inevitable Collision
Rating: E
Summary: Set after The Rain King. Sharing a bed in a tiny motel room means there's nowhere left to hide.
Read on AO3 here. 
The whole thing had to be some kind of cosmic joke. If he believed in God, he might think it was divinely orchestrated, some kind of humorous little game at his expense.
It had been a long day of dead-end leads in middle-of-nowhere Arizona, watching Scully get hit on by a creepy county sheriff and convincing himself he wasn’t just as bad when a bead of sweat rolled down her clavicle and disappeared beneath her white v-neck.
The invisible thread that bound them to one another seemed to be getting shorter and shorter these days, the gravity of their connection too strong. He knew, deep down, that at this point it was only a matter of time before they collided, for better or for worse, and the question was simply when.
He thought he might get his answer a few weeks ago when a cow of all things crashed through the roof of his motel room and he was forced to bunk with Scully. Fortunately for his nerves, Scully’s room had a couch and she didn’t put up too much resistance when he insisted he take it, reminding her that he had spent years sleeping on one and was in fact more accustomed to couches than beds.
They slept separately, deeply after such bizarre events, and when they woke the next morning, they continued their familiar dance, never getting too close but never very far away.
Tonight, however, at the lone motel in this tiny desert town, that distance would be forced to shrink even further.
They weren’t expecting to stay the night, thinking it would be a simple, open-and-shut, onto-the-next-case situation but they’d made far less progress than they’d hoped and their next assignment a state over would have to wait.
“You got here just in time!” The receptionist exclaimed after a few taps on her keyboard. “We have one room left.”
“We’ll take it.” Scully replied immediately.
Mulder could tell she was getting antsy, eager to wash off the day. She had been unusually fidgety all day, even jumping at one point when he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. A few times when he’d been speaking to her, her eyes had drifted to his bare forearms below his rolled-up sleeves, completely zoned out. The heat must be bothering her.
“Alright then!” The receptionist beamed. “It is one of our smaller rooms but I’m sure y’all don’t mind getting a little cozy.”
She winked at the two agents and Mulder tensed. How small? He wanted to ask. Please tell me what you mean by small.
As it turned out, ‘small’ was somewhat of an understatement. The bed took up most of the room, which was saying something as it was perhaps the narrowest double Mulder had ever seen. There was hardly any other furniture, just a desk with a rickety old chair tucked under it. Mulder found himself wondering whether he could curl all 6 feet of himself up like a cat and sleep on that instead. Even the bathroom had more floor space than the bedroom and he briefly questioned how offended Scully would be if he said he’d rather sleep on tiles than beside her.
As if reading his mind, Scully appeared beside him.
“Well, there’s no couch this time so I suppose we’d better get comfortable.”
He took a quick glance in the direction of the bathroom. Maybe with enough towels and pillows-
“Mulder, you’re not sleeping on the floor.” She sighed. “We’re both adults.”
He hesitated.
“Ok. If you’re sure. I am quite big.” He joked, trying to distract from his racing heart.
She smiled but he could tell she was a little apprehensive too. He wondered whether it was for the same reasons.
“I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”
After a few hours of hunching over files and photographs on the bed, Scully finally stretched and announced she was going to shower. She collected her things from her bag, Mulder’s eyes trying desperately not to linger on the blue silk she pulled out, and disappeared into the bathroom.
The sound of the shower running lured his thoughts into dangerous territory and he shook his head in an attempt to clear it, returning his focus to the evidence in front of him. It wasn’t the easiest task to concentrate when his mind kept helpfully supplying thoughts like Scully is showering right now, Scully is naked the other side of that wall, Scully is going to put on something silky and then climb into bed with you.
His groin stirred and he fought the urge to press his palm against himself. It was going to be a very long night.
He’d managed to get as far as reading the same sentence four times when he heard something like a gasp come from the bathroom. It was quiet beneath the noise of the water but he could’ve sworn it was there.
He strained to listen but when he heard nothing more, he returned to the page in his lap. Perhaps the water had suddenly run cold and startled her. That was something he’d experienced more than his fair share of during the many nights they’d spent at motels like these. Perhaps he’d simply imagined it.
“Mm!”
A high-pitched noise interrupted his thoughts and he froze. He definitely hadn’t imagined that .
A million scenarios of Scully in danger rushed through his mind. They were on the ground floor, there was a window in the bathroom that an intruder could’ve easily fit through. They were literally in the middle of a murder investigation. Granted, Scully didn’t have the mark that the other victims did before they were taken. Well, not that he knew of. What if she’d seen it now? What if-
“Mulder!”
The sound of his name in a strangled gasp had him leaping off the bed and across the room. Blinded by panic, he pushed open the bathroom door without knocking.
“Scully!” He called to her, glancing frantically around the room. “Are you ok?”
“Mulder!” She squeaked. “What the hell are you doing?!”
“I heard you call my name and I thought you might be in trouble.”
“Oh.” She said quietly, the word almost lost in the rushing water. “I’m fine.”
He wished he could see her face, see for himself that she was ok, but the sight of her was obscured by a grotty shower curtain.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” She said a little more confidently. “I, um- I saw a spider. It’s gone now.”
Mulder wasn’t entirely convinced by the explanation but something in her voice told him not to pry. He didn’t want to push her, their sleeping arrangements were going to be awkward enough even without the added element of pissing her off.
“Ok. I’ll just… go.” He finished lamely.
Closing the bathroom door behind him, he wandered back over to the bed to finish, well actually start , the file he’d been reading prior to the interruption.
Some time later, he decided to call it a night. They were at a standstill until they could speak to the most recent victim’s mother, who wouldn’t be back in town until the morning.
With a sigh, he scooped up the sprawling mess of papers and dumped them on the desk. He briefly considered tidying up a little, knowing that Scully wouldn’t be too pleased with his filing system, or lack of. Then again, even if he did organize everything into the relevant folders, she’d pull everything out and redo it anyway.
As he stood by the desk, shuffling the papers about so it looked like he’d done something, the bathroom door opened across the room. Holy fuck.
Scully stood there, framed in the dim light, fresh and dewy from her elaborate skincare routine, damp red hair curling around her freckled face, and silky shorts so tiny they must hardly cover her ass. She looked beautiful. Ethereal. And Mulder had to admit Holman had been right. He definitely did gaze at Scully.
“Sorry.” Scully said, her cheeks turning pink beneath his unrelenting gaze. “This is all I packed. I was anticipating it being hot and me being… alone.”
Mulder opened his mouth a few times before finally finding his voice.
“No, that’s ok.” He started. “You just look so… cute.”
“Cute?” Scully raised a brow.
Mulder winced. She was right. Cute is how he’d usually describe a small dog they walked past on the street, not his unnervingly gorgeous partner who he was hopelessly, desperately in love with. However, ‘you look so fucking good I need to go and take care of myself in the shower right this second before I lose my mind and pin you up against the nearest wall’ didn’t quite seem like the appropriate thing to say either.
“I’m just gonna-.” He pointed to the bathroom behind her before hurrying to grab what he needed, brushing past her and closing the door.
Fuck. He hoped he’d been quick enough that she didn’t notice the bulge in his slacks.
He stripped and hopped straight into the shower. He needed to get this out of his system before he got into bed with her otherwise he would definitely end up embarrassing himself or having to sneak out in the middle of the night to jack off into the toilet, which felt too pathetic even for him. Not that the shower was much better.
It didn’t take long. It never did these days. Not when she was so damn close all the time, always speaking so assertively and so intelligently and giving him those smiles, reserved just for him. Once upon a time, he felt guilty whenever she’d pop into his head as he stroked himself. He’d managed to keep the denial going for a while, ignoring his body’s reaction to her, pushing away thoughts of being on top of her, beneath her, behind her. The line he’d drawn in his head had since been crossed though. And now there was no turning back.
He bit into his forearm as he came, muffling the sound of his groan.
Once he was showered and dried, he reached for his change of clothes and was struck with the realization that he too had packed thinking he’d be sleeping alone. All he had was a clean pair of boxers and a Knicks shirt. It would have to do. He hoped Scully had already turned out the lights.
As luck would have it, he opened the door to a dark room, just enough moonlight seeping in through the flimsy drapes to see the shape of Scully’s body beneath the sheet. If the bed looked tiny before, it looked practically miniature now. Scully’s small form was curled as close to the far left edge as possible, yet somehow left very little room for Mulder. Cozy indeed.
He could already feel his heart pounding, his hands shaking as he pulled back the covers and lay down carefully, not wanting to disturb her. He lay on his left side with his back to her, the two of them facing opposite walls. It wasn’t the most effective option space-wise but it felt safer this way, if he couldn’t see her, maybe he could convince himself she wasn’t there.
“Night, Mulder.”
Scully’s quiet voice broke the still air, reminding him she was in fact there.
“Night, Scully.”
Moments passed by in silence. He could feel the warmth of Scully’s body beneath the sheets, faint heat against the backs of his legs.
He didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until his chest started to feel hot and he exhaled shakily. In and out, Mulder, you’ve been doing this your whole life.
His left shoulder was starting to ache and he reluctantly turned over, coming face-to-face with the back of Scully’s head. The soft scent of her shampoo instantly surrounded him and he fought off a moan, the urge to bury his face in her hair hitting him fiercely.
He shuffled around some more, trying to get comfortable whilst maintaining some kind of distance between them. He didn’t notice when his fingertips brushed against her bare thigh but he did notice her resulting shiver.
“Are you cold?” He whispered.
The temperature had dropped significantly, as it often does in these kinds of places once the sun sets, and there was a definite chill in the air, though Mulder was too hot and flustered to feel it himself.
Scully nodded and before Mulder could process what he was doing, he was moving impossibly closer, his chest flush against her back. His arm circled around her middle, holding her close but not tight. It was almost strange how comfortable it felt, how natural.
“Is this ok?”
His lips were so close to her skin, his hot breath ghosting across the nape of her neck with every exhale.
“Yeah.” She whispered. “It’s ok.”
Her voice was breathy, the tone different than anything he’d heard from her before.
He hugged her tighter in response, the silk of her shirt so smooth beneath his fingertips where his palm rested against her stomach. Unconsciously, he stroked his thumb back and forth over the material.
Scully shuddered suddenly in his arms, her hips wriggling against his. It seemed to happen in slow motion, the flesh of her ass, barely covered, meeting the unavoidable bulge in his underwear. They both froze. Mulder mentally cursed himself and shifted his hips away from her as subtly as he could.
A beat. Scully pushed her hips backwards again but this time it felt deliberate, like she was seeking him out. Mulder bit back a groan when she found her target. He was undeniably hard now. So much for getting it out of his system earlier.
Another press of her ass against him and he gripped her hip firmly, holding her slightly away from him.
“Scully.” He gritted out.
She responded with a barely concealed whimper. The sound shot straight to his groin and the events of the day clicked into place in his mind with startling clarity.
“Scully?” He repeated, more of a question this time.
This was the moment that could change everything. He knew it and he knew she knew it too. They couldn’t pretend any longer. The thread between them was pulled taut, nothing left and nowhere to hide.
He swallowed.
“You didn’t see a spider earlier, did you?”
Scully’s reply was a hesitant whisper.
“No.”
“And you weren’t cold just now, were you?”
“No.”
The weight of the truth she had just revealed in those two simple answers was astronomical. He groaned and pressed his hips harder against her.
“Tell me you want this.”
He needed to hear her say it. To confirm what they both knew, had known for a long time beneath all the fear, all the doubt and denial.
“I want this.” She whispered, quiet but sure, and turned in his arms. “Please.”
The sheer vulnerability and desire in her eyes as they met took his breath away and after six years of waiting, he couldn’t stand to wait a moment longer. He kissed her.
It felt like coming home.
Her lips were soft beneath his own, parting almost immediately to allow him to deepen the kiss, while her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. His hands slipped down to her ass as their tongues met and she moaned loudly into his mouth.
He had imagined their first kiss in so many ways. Everything from a chaste, gentle press of their lips to a frantic, clashing of mouths. This was somehow everything he’d wished for and more. Sensual and fierce, the intensity of it unlike anything he’d ever experienced.
He broke away, much to Scully’s disappointment, although she was quickly placated when he began pressing wet kisses to her neck, trailing his lips from her cheekbone to the surprisingly sensitive spot just beneath her ear.
He rolled her onto her back, legs intertwined with hers as he continued to kiss and nip at her exposed skin. She writhed and gasped beneath him, throwing her head back in invitation and clenching fistfuls of his shirt.
One of his hands slipped beneath her pajama top, the feeling of her bare stomach beneath his fingers making his head spin. In return, her hands slid beneath his t-shirt, nails raking across his back as she ground her center against his thigh.
He kissed her again, tongues meeting hot and heavy. His hand traveled higher until his fingertips were brushing the underside of her breast and he felt her still in anticipation.
“Is this ok?”
She nodded frantically, which made him chuckle and kiss her again. He couldn’t believe she was letting him do this after all these years. Not even just letting him, encouraging him, desperate for him.
He broke the kiss, pressing his forehead against hers and watching the way her eyes rolled shut when his hand spread across her breast and squeezed. He got distracted by her chest for a while, transfixed by the way she licked and bit at her bottom lip when his thumbs flicked across a nipple, the gasp and arch of her back when he gave a particularly hard pinch. She was so deliciously sensitive.
“Mulder.” Scully whined. “Enough teasing.”
“Never enough.” He replied with a grin.
He got the message though, reluctantly removing his hands from her shirt so that he could get to work on the buttons. Scully sat up briefly to help, scrambling to get Mulder’s shirt off too before pulling him back down on top of her with a firm kiss.
Somehow during the readjustment, Mulder had ended up kneeling between Scully’s spread thighs and when their bodies met once more, his clothed cock pressed directly against her center. They both moaned at the contact, Scully bucking her hips to press into him harder.
“Fuck.” Mulder hissed.
He didn’t think he’d ever been this hard in his life and he hadn’t even touched her yet. So much for getting it out of his system earlier, although if he hadn’t done that he might’ve come already just from the friction and the sounds Scully was making.
He drew back to take in the sight of a topless Scully beneath him and yeah, he was suddenly very grateful for his solo time earlier because fuck.
“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, staring at her almost reverentially.
Sure, he had seen her naked before, but there was always some element of danger drawing his focus and he tried his best to avoid looking anyway, not wanting to disrespect her when she was vulnerable.
No, it had never been like this. This was something entirely different. He drank in the sight, memorizing every freckle, every scar. He wanted to worship her.
Before Scully could respond, he dipped down and flicked his tongue over a taut nipple. She gasped and scraped her nails at the nape of his neck.
“God, Mulder.”
He repeated the action before experimentally sucking, addicted to her sharp inhales and the sting of her nails digging into his skin.
Scully’s hips were grinding against his bare stomach now and he groaned around a mouthful of her when he realized he could feel her wetness through her shorts.
He paused and glanced up at her, her head thrown back against the pillows.
“Are you wearing underwear, Scully?”
She dropped her head down to meet his eyes. She shook her head.
“I only packed thongs.” She said quietly, a coy smile on her lips. “I can’t sleep in a thong.”
“Are you trying to kill me?”  
Scully laughed at that, a light and free sound that Mulder adored. He didn’t get to hear it enough. However, her laughter was soon cut short when he dropped his head back to her chest, giving her other breast the same attention.
“Oh .” She breathed.
Mulder’s lips moved across her sternum and then down across her stomach, placing kisses to her skin as he went. She was squirming beneath him in anticipation now and his desperation grew. He needed to taste her more than he could remember needing anything.
He moaned as the smell of her arousal hit him full force, his lips ghosting over her thighs.
“Scully.”
A plea.
“Yeah.” She nodded in immediate understanding, lifting her hips for him to slide off her shorts.
Once her shorts were off, he settled himself between her thighs, coming face to face with her glistening cunt. Holy fuck.
“Scully, you’re so wet.”
She moaned low in her throat, threading her fingers through his hair. He wrapped his arms around her thighs, tugging her hips closer.
This was it. This was the moment he had dreamt about, the moment that plagued his late night thoughts and dominated his fantasies.
He pressed his lips against her clit, inhaling deeply. Scully whimpered and his cock twitched.
At the first stroke of his tongue against her, they both moaned.
“Oh, fuck.”
Scully’s voice was tight, her grip in his hair tighter.
He lapped at her again, spreading wetness up and around her clit. She shifted her legs wider with a moan and he threw himself into his task with even more enthusiasm. No fantasy could’ve done this justice.
As he continued to lick and suck at her clit, her moans became louder and more frequent until they were near constant, interspersed with gasps of ‘fuck’ and ‘Mulder’ and ‘right there’. He had seriously underestimated how vocal Scully would be in bed, he wouldn’t be surprised if they got a noise complaint and he was only just getting started. Her surprising lack of inhibition only turned him on more.
Her hips rocked up over and over again, fucking herself against his face with increasing desperation. She was dripping down his chin and he couldn’t be happier.
Occasionally, he would dip down to her entrance and circle it with his tongue. On one such occasion, she made a strangled sound in her throat and her hips jolted.
“More.” She gasped out. “Mulder, I need-.”
He knew straightaway and let go of one of her thighs to bring his hand between her legs. He pressed his middle finger inside her, looking up between her legs to see her eyes roll back as she released a low, throaty moan. His finger curled against her front wall and he stroked slowly in and out.
“More.”
He obeyed, a second finger joining the first, his tongue returning to her clit.
“God.” Scully groaned. “Feels so good.”
Mulder gradually picked up the pace, paying careful attention to the sounds she made and the rhythm of her hips. He pushed against the back of her thigh with his free hand, opening her up to him even further, and moaned when he felt more wetness coat his fingers in response.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Scully panted. “Don’t stop.”
Her hips rocked in time with his thrusts, taking him as deep as she could. He knew he’d hit the perfect spot when her back arched and her thighs started shaking, her whole body trembling beneath his tongue.
“Oh god.” She gasped. “I’m gonna-.”
That was all the warning Mulder got before her thighs clamped around his head and her walls clamped around his fingers. She practically smothered him with the intensity of her orgasm but god , what a way to go.
He couldn’t believe he was making Scully come. Scully . His only regret was not being able to see her face but the night was still young.
Mulder continued licking and sucking at her gently, slowly bringing her down from her high, until she pulled him away. She dragged him up her body and met his lips with a hungry kiss. Her tongue slipped into his mouth, tasting herself. Fuck, that was hot.
She broke the kiss and sighed contentedly.
“I knew you’d be good at that.”
“Oh, really?”
“Two words, Mulder.” She smirked at him. “Sunflower. Seeds.”
She punctuated her words with two gentle pokes to his ass cheek and he laughed, ducking down to kiss her again. He couldn’t get enough of this woman.
Scully wrapped her legs around him, pressing her pelvis against his as she kissed him languidly. His boxers were the only layer that remained between them.
She pushed at his shoulder, encouraging him to roll over, and straddled him with zero hesitation. He wanted to burn this image into his brain, etch it into his retinas and never look at anything again for the rest of his life. She was completely naked, skin flushed the most beautiful shade of pink, smiling down at him almost shyly as she rocked her hips against him. Her fingers dipped into his waistband and he jerked against her.
“I want to see you.” She said quietly, sliding down his thighs.
His cock was straining against his boxers and the outline of his head was visible under the thin, damp material. Scully ran a finger over his firm length, her nails softly scratching him, and he shuddered.
“Take them off.”
He did as she requested and when she returned to his lap, she was staring down at his cock in awe. Understandable, really. Even Mulder was surprised that a human being could get his hard.
“I knew you must be big but god, Mulder.”
They would definitely be addressing that statement later. She knew ? Presently, however, he was far too occupied to be asking questions as she took him fully in her gentle grasp.
“Is this all for me?”
“Always, Scully.”
She must have heard the seriousness in his tone because she tore her eyes away then, meeting his gaze. Her focus drifted between his face and his crotch and she licked her lips as if deep in thought. When she shuffled further down his legs, he realized exactly what the thought was.
“Scully, I won’t last if you do that.” He warned.
She pouted, stroking her thumb delicately against his tip as if to say ‘are you sure?’.
“Next time.” He promised.
Scully raised an eyebrow before leaning over his torso, kissing his abs, chest, shoulders, neck and finally his cheek. She pulled back to look into his eyes. Their lips were mere millimeters apart.
“There’s going to be a next time?”
Surprisingly, her tone wasn’t teasing. It was a hopeful whisper.
In response, he pulled her down into a passionate kiss, trying to convey just how much she meant to him, how certain he was that there would be a next time if he had anything to do with it.
His fingers tangled in her hair and she gasped as he unintentionally tugged a little harder than necessary. She was rocking against him insistently now, hips slipping further backwards with each movement. Suddenly, his cock was very much against her ass and she whimpered into his mouth.
She lifted her hips and adjusted them so that she was pressing onto him. His cock was now trapped between her cunt and his stomach and when she began to slide along his length, they both moaned. Back and forth, she coated him with her wetness, little noises escaping her mouth as her clit brushed against him.
Mulder thought he might die if he didn’t get to be inside her soon. Luckily, Scully appeared to have a similar thought. Pulling back, she met his eyes once again, wordlessly asking for what they both needed. He nodded.
She raised herself up, slicking her hand over his length a couple more times, and then positioned him at her entrance. He was torn between looking at her face and watching the place where they were finally, finally about to join. He settled for flicking between both.
Scully’s eyes rolled back as she pressed the first inch inside.
“You ok?” Mulder’s voice was strained, hands skating over her sides as he resisted grabbing her hips and shoving inside her.
Scully nodded and they both moaned as she sank down further. She was so fucking warm and wet, walls fluttering around him as she adjusted.
They both watched as the last couple of inches slowly disappeared inside her. When her pelvis met his, she groaned and circled her hips.
“Don’t move.” Scully breathed. “I just want to feel you for a moment.”
He understood. As much as he was desperate to move, the feeling of being completely connected after all this time was indescribable. He’d held out this long, he could control himself for a few more seconds.
Slowly, Scully began to lift herself and sink back down. Her mouth dropped open in pleasure.
“Fuck, Scully.” Mulder murmured. “You’re incredible.”
It was true. If heaven were real, this would be it.
“Move.” She pleaded.
You don’t need to tell me twice, Mulder thought. He held onto her hips and pressed up into her, meeting her thrusts. He could get even deeper with their combined effort. She gasped when they got the angle right and his cock bumped against her g-spot with every stroke.
Gradually, they picked up the pace until they were moving frantically against one another. Scully braced her hands against his chest.
“Oh fuck.” She gasped.
Her breasts were bouncing on her chest as he pounded into her over and over again. His fingers dug into her hips so hard there’d likely be bruises in the morning but she didn’t seem to mind, in fact the quiet moan in the back of her throat every time he tightened his grip indicated that she might actually be enjoying the rough treatment. He filed that little piece of information away for later.
She was panting now, slamming her hips down against his to meet his every thrust even as her thighs began to tremble. She moaned loudly at a particularly hard thrust and collapsed forward, her face buried in his neck.
Mulder’s hands slipped to her ass and squeezed as he encouraged her to rock against him. Her movements were getting sloppy though and she whimpered and mouthed at his skin.
“Fuck me.” She moaned. “Please, Mulder.”
He understood immediately and flipped them. Scully whined as he slipped out of her but he didn’t keep her waiting long, thrusting back inside of her as soon as they were in position.
Scully cried out and arched up into him. Her legs came up to wrap around his waist and her nails dug into his shoulders, needing something to cling onto.
“You feel so fucking good.” Mulder groaned.
He wasn’t going to last much longer. Scully had grown wetter and wetter and the lewd sounds of their fucking were pushing him closer to the edge.
“Tell me what you were thinking about earlier. In the shower.”
He didn’t know where that had come from but he suddenly had to know.
“Mulderrrr.” Scully whined, clearly not in the mood for talking.
“Tell me.” He insisted.
“Fuck.”
Scully groaned and turned to press her face into his arm.
“Were you thinking about this?” He asked, although he knew what her answer would be.
She nodded.
“Do you always think about us when you touch yourself?”
His words were heavy with exertion, the two of them covered in a thin sheen of sweat.
“Yes.” She gasped.
“Show me.”
Scully moaned. One of her hands instantly fell from his back, slipping between their bodies.
Her moans increased tenfold when her fingers met her clit, her eyes flying open to meet his.
“Feel good?”
The way her hips writhed against him said it all.
“Kiss me.” She pleaded.
He did so without question, their mouths meeting clumsily. When her whimpers and gasps began to increase in pitch, he knew the end was in sight. He could feel her hand moving frantically against herself, her knuckles brushing against his skin.
“So close.” She whispered.
So was he. She was tightening around him and it took all of his strength to keep going. He would not come before her.
“Oh my god, oh my god.” She chanted and then suddenly she was tensing, her walls spasming around him. “Fuck!”
Mulder dropped his head to her shoulder, thrusting into her once, twice more before he was coming along with her, moaning her name into her skin.
Jesus Christ.
He kissed Scully’s shoulder and then her forehead before reluctantly pulling away and slipping out of her. She winced and he whispered an apology. He lay down beside her, their chests heaving in unison.
He stretched an arm out, making a space for Scully, who took the hint and rolled into his side, palm resting against his chest. He brushed his lips against the top of her head.
“We’re pretty good at that.”
“Mm.” She responded tiredly. “We should’ve done it sooner.”
He wondered if she knew how long he’d been waiting. How long he’d been wanting. He wondered if she knew he was in love with her.
“I can hear you thinking.” She murmured.
“Just wondering how we’ll explain the extra charge for noise disturbance on our expense report.”
She smacked a palm against his chest.
“What?!”
She giggled at his mock surprise, honest-to-god giggled . Post-coital Scully was adorable.
“I love you.” She said suddenly. His heart stopped. “In case you were wondering.”
She turned to look up at him and he saw the truth right there in her eyes. He wasn’t the only one who had been waiting and wanting.
“I love you too.” He said. “More than you’ll ever know.”
“I know, Mulder.”
The thread between them snapped.
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kleenex-tissues · 1 year
Text
Yours Truly (5)
AO3 version here
Ch. 5: Ravings of a Mad Man
Every single day when Damian returned to his room at the end of his leisure time, a new email was waiting for him. He really should have deleted the email address after he deigned not to fall for his brothers’ scheme, but something stopped him whenever he hovered over the button. So, instead, he made a habit to open the account, delete the email from Marinette, and continue on as he had. It had become a routine for him, a regular part of his activity list.
Today, he made to do the same thing, but he hesitated before sending the usual email into his trash. Perhaps it was because he had such a quiet few days, or maybe he had finally inherited some of his family’s insanity, but he did not hit the ‘delete’ icon right away.
The last few patrols had been maddeningly quiet, as if every criminal in Gotham had decided to go on a joint holiday. Even Jason, for all his theatrical arrogance, had been docile, opting to leave his eye-sore of a helmet hidden away.
On top of this, not only had his schoolwork been mindlessly easy, his brothers and sister had vacated the house for various operations, leaving only him, his father, and Alfred, their loyal butler, to fill the space. It should have pleased him to have such a peaceful environment, but Damian was a creature built for excitement – chasing villains, busting drug deals, deterring gang violence. The silence was starting to annoy him.
And this email was beginning to become bothersome too.
He shouldn’t be hesitating, this isn’t like him. He is content with his circumstances. He has no desire to disrupt his peaceful day with an email sure to irritate him further.
So why exactly was he opening it?
To: [email protected] From: [email protected] Subject: Things to look forward to!!
Hello again, Redbird
I have fully accepted at this point that you will probably never respond to me, but I still need to practice my English. So, today I will tell you all about the things I have in my upcoming calendar.
It’s the end of September now, which means the annual Paris Young Designers Contest submission goes live in just two days. Of course, as I do every year, I will be submitting my own fashion line concepts that I have been working on since last year’s ended.
The best part? If I win, my line will be featured in a runway show hosted by Gabriel Agreste, the biggest designer in the city. Everyone who is anyone in the fashion world will be there to scout the winner. If I win this, I could be working for some of the most well-known designers all over the world. I wouldn’t even need to go to University. It would be straight into the industry!
Obviously, that’s just a pipe dream for me. A ton of people apply every year, plus this is like my third time sending in a submission. If I haven’t gotten it yet, I’m not sure I will now. Alas, my dear friend, Alya, is forcing me to send one in.
See, she told my parents I was gonna join the competition (which I was definitely debating doing despite the book of design concepts sitting on my desk) and they got so excited about it, that how could I possibly disappoint them? So now, here I am, trying to put together a cohesive line to submit within the next eight days.
And next week, my parents have a gig to cater a major event for the mayor, so after submitting my line, I will be thrown straight into the kitchen to bake and decorate as many cupcakes as I possibly can before time runs out.
I also have this huge test for my chemistry class next week, but I don’t know if I’ll have enough time to study. Maybe I can get Adrien to help me? He’s a science whiz, I swear. I don’t know how I passed any science classes before I met him.
Are you any good with stoichiometry? I would definitely appreciate some help. You know, if you ever reply.
Anyways, I hope you look forward to my next email!
Au Revoir, Mari
This was stupid. Why did Damian open the email? Why did he read it all? And why is he now going through his deleted emails and reading every single one that Marinette had sent him?
Most of it was nothing more than idle chatter and rambling. She talked incessantly about her friends – Alya mostly, her schoolwork, her parents’ bakery, the commissions she was currently working on, and numerous other useless anecdotes about her days.
Damian read each one twice.
He must be going crazy, letting something as silly as this take up so much of his time. Maybe he was just that bored. As soon as the criminals of Gotham began to roam the streets again and life returned to normal, this would have no further importance, Damian was sure of it. He was just bored. Yes, bored beyond rational thought.
This small break in his sanity was also surely what was causing Damian Wayne, for the first time in his life, to respond to Marinette Dupain-Cheng.
To: [email protected] From: [email protected] Subject: re: Things to look forward to!!
Marinette,
I hope you will not continue to refer to me as ‘redbird,’ given that it is a moronic screen name my brothers wrote in my stead. I would prefer Damian from here on out.
I have not heard of the ‘Paris Young Designers Contest’ nor of this Gabriel Agreste, so it surely cannot be as life-altering as you state. You should continue your application to University for good measure.
I have heard that Gotham University holds one of the most prestigious fashion designing programs, but I have not experienced it to know. Perhaps, it can be added to your list.
Congratulations are to be awarded to your parents for being held in such high regard by the mayor of Paris, but I hope they should hire more workers to assist in preparing such a large event.
I am well-versed in all areas of science, but I do not have the time to teach you. Attached is a link to a great video on stoichiometry. It will not cure you of your inability to master the subject, but it will be an adequate beginning.
Sincerely, Damian
Later that evening, Damian and his father began their nightly patrol under the moniker of the vigilantes of Gotham, Batman and his loyal partner, Robin.
The title of ‘Robin’ had been tossed around for years, going through Dick, Jason, Tim, and even their family friend, Stephanie Brown. Each had filled the position sufficiently, but none were a match for him. Damian prided himself on being the ideal Robin. He was, after all, Batman’s only biological son, the one and only heir to both the mantle of Batman and the Wayne legacy.
Duty had driven him to his father’s home, but the suit became his very essence and his reason to not return to the den of assassin’s where he was raised. This was his new home, standing on the rooftops beside his hero and protecting the people of Gotham. This is what he was created for.
His ego pushed him to shoot his grapple gun across the four-lane road onto the next roof, despite brushing mere centimeters above a moving semi-truck. This was child’s play for him, but he supposed it did bring him a feeling of triumph whenever he landed perfectly on the roof he had aimed for.
While Damian riskily swung above the city at high speeds, his father merely leapt onto the next roof in his route, silently staking out the alleyways. Where Batman was careful, Robin was assertive. They were compliments of each other, working perfectly in tandem.
They prowled the night, and after three hours, the only crime that surfaced was a petty mugging attempt that the victim had thwarted on their own. All Batman and Robin had to do was bring the mugger to the police station along with the victim’s report. It took a total of eight minutes and thirty-four seconds to complete, Damian had kept count.
Peace once more filled the moonlit night, and the two returned to watching the city from the top of Wayne Enterprises. The silence that strained between them made Damian’s hands twitch. His mouth shot open without him thinking, “Do you think they’re planning something? The rogues, I mean. They’ve never been this tame before.”
His father turned to look at him. His mask covered the majority of his facial features, obscuring Damian’s ability to read how he was feeling, but after living with the man for seven years, he had been able to pick up on the subtle movements of his mouth to make his feelings more clear.
Bruce was thinking. Uncertain and curious, but calm. He tried never to let emotion get the best of him, so his body constantly radiated stoicism.
“I’m not sure, son. My job is to bring peace, so I would love nothing more than to revel in the tranquility of Gotham.” Bruce paused, in a way that seemed less like he was gathering his thoughts and more like he was drawing attention to the next line. He had always had that innate dramatism to the way he spoke. “But this feels off. If they’re planning something, it’s big.”
Damian pondered his father’s words. This wasn’t good, especially with his siblings' absence. While the two were capable of holding their own in a fight, Damian still reluctantly wished for the extended family to return for the comfort of his father. Fighting a battle with only two men was impossible, no matter how strong they were.
Bruce spoke again, his voice faint in the night, “Maybe we should go home and think about this. You’ve got school in the morning, so let’s call it a night.”
Damian nodded, and they headed towards the alley where the batmobile lay in wait. When Tim returned the following night, they could begin discussing further. Until then, there was an unspoken tension running down their backs. Something was waiting, for better or for worse.
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