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#so it feels like he’s skipped a lot of steps and ended up the wrong place a bit
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I think my problem with my new floor mate is he assumes a bit to much about me and it’s not offensive it’s just a bit off but it’s not quite enough off to tell him that so I just kinda think “you don’t know me that well dude” half the time around him….
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soaps-mohawk · 2 months
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 13: Piece Me Back Together
Summary: Your pack deals with the aftermath of your heat.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, Ghost x Soap
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, handjobs, anal fingering, anal sex, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex irl), spanking (it’s like once), choking (kind of), light Dom/sub dynamics, Johnny's praise kink, excessive use of the word cock, heat cycles, mating cycles, brief mention of blood, brief medical stuff, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, and of course a little fluff
A/N: Well folks, we've made it past the heat portion of the fic. Now things can really start moving. Lots of aftercare, some world building, and of course a little spice at the end for you all to enjoy (as if the last chapter wasn't enough lol). I tried to catch all the possible tags for this one but as always, let me know if I missed one. The smut happens in the very last scene, so if you'd prefer not to read it, then skip that last little bit. You won't really miss much. Also, there's a lot of jumping around in time in this one so I tried to mark when things are happening relative to the present moment in the fic.
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6 Days Ago
“Looks comfortable.” 
Kyle glances up as Johnny closes the door to his room, blanket and pillow in hand. “Slept on worse.” He shrugs, glancing down at the cot set up in the hallway before looking back up at Johnny. “Moving out?” 
“Camping in Si’s office for the next week. Keep our distance.” He nods at the closed door. 
“Probably for the best.” Kyle says. “Have fun!” 
“Don’t enjoy yourself too much.” Johnny winks at him before making his way down the hallway and disappearing around the corner. 
Kyle shakes his head, starting to sort through the many bags of supplies they’ve stocked up on in preparation for their omega’s heat. They’re well prepared, all of them, for the next week, Kyle especially. He’s spent the last few days reading up on what to expect, how to best help and support his alpha and omega, and what to look out for in case things start going wrong. He doesn’t think they will. He has a lot of faith in Price and he knows Price will take good care of their omega. 
Still, he can’t help but feel a bit nervous. He has a big job to do, even though there’s not much to do until after the heat is over with. He just has to ensure Price doesn’t hurt you accidentally, or maul you to death. He doesn’t think that’s likely to happen, but then again, one can never know. 
Kyle lets out a shaky breath, grabbing the bags with the electrolytes and nutrient bars before heading for your door. 
It’s going to be a long week. 
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Present Day
It’s quiet. Has been for almost an hour now. Kyle rises from the cot, slipping his phone into his pocket. He slowly approaches the door, leaning in to listen for a moment before putting his hand on the knob. He lets out a breath before pushing the door open slowly, slipping in and closing the door quietly. The smells in the room are worse than they had been last night, a toxic mix of omega, alpha, sex, and sweat. He takes a moment to breathe, adjusting to the scent. 
You and Price are spooned together on the bed, asleep, or at least you are. Price had pulled the blankets up around you, tucking you in. Kyle approaches slowly, not wanting to accidentally step on a wrapper and startle either of you and risk you getting scared or Price getting territorial. He brushes the damp strands of hair from your face, your body temperature significantly lower than it had been even last night. He pulls the forehead thermometer from his pocket, taking your temperature quickly before sending a text to Dr. Keller. 
He carefully lifts the blankets, checking beneath. You’re still locked together as he expected, and he lowers the blankets back down, tucking you both in again. He unplugs Price’s phone from the charging cord that he’d plugged in last night, rotating it to your phone. He knew the chances of either of you being aware enough to use a phone for anything would be low, but just in case, he kept them both charged. 
He tiptoes through the mess of wrappers and bottles, grabbing the bag of trash that he had started a couple days ago. He picks up the mess on the floor, cleaning off the nightstand as well before setting out a new bottle of electrolytes and a couple nutrient bars. There’s still quite a few left, but those could be saved for your next heat. 
Price stirs a bit as Kyle sets the bag of trash off to the side next to the bag of things that would have to go to the wash. He hurries over, gently keeping Price from moving too much. 
“Easy. You’re still knotted.” He says, putting a hand on Price’s shoulder as you let out a quiet sound. His skin is warm and sticky from sweat, and probably other things. 
Price rubs his eyes before blinking up at Kyle. “What day is it?” 
“Morning of the sixth day.” He answers, passing Price the bottle of electrolytes. “I think it’s over. Her temperature’s back to normal. Just waiting on Dr. Keller’s opinion.” 
Price hums, unscrewing the cap from the bottle before taking a long drink. “Feel like shit.” 
Kyle grins. “Been a long week for you, Cap. How do you feel?” 
Price screws the cap back on the bottle before leaning over you to place it on the nightstand. “Like I got hit by a truck and rolled down a hill.” 
“Speaking from experience, sir?” Kyle smirks. 
Price gives him a look before closing his eyes again, relaxing against your back. He lets out a groan as his knot deflates, his cock slipping from your folds. “Christ, that's going to hurt later.”
“Let me get the bath started.” Kyle says, going into your bathroom. 
He starts the water, making sure it’s warm enough before he grabs the epsom salt off the counter and adds some in. He leaves the water running as he moves back to the bedroom, helping Price off the bed first. The alpha groans as he stands, leaning heavily against Kyle’s side. Kyle wraps his arm around his shoulders, supporting Price as they make their way to the bathroom. 
“I’ve been beaten, tortured, shot. I’ve jumped out of moving cars, been in helicopter crashes.” Price says, grunting as Kyle helps him down into the bath. “This might be the worst I’ve ever felt.” 
“Not quite as spry as you used to be, old man?” Kyle teases, making sure he’s comfortable. 
“Plenty spry, but god I forgot how energetic omegas can be.” Price leans his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. 
“Just relax.” Kyle says, turning off the water. “I’ll bring her in.” 
He heads back into your room, approaching the bed. You’re shivering, eyes squeezed closed and eyebrows pinched. Kyle kneels down next to the bed, placing a gentle hand on your arm. You start a bit at the touch, a quiet whimper leaving your lips. 
“Shh, easy love.” Kyle tries to soothe you as you shake. “You’re alright.” 
You let out a whine, seeking out your alpha in your disoriented state. The bathwater splashes as Price shifts in response to your call, his own instincts still on high alert. 
“Let’s get you into the bath.” Kyle says before gently slipping his arms under you and lifting you up. 
You let out a whine in protest, your body sore and aching from the last six days. Kyle quickly carries you to the bath, easing you into the water between Price’s legs. You’re trembling, quiet whines leaving your lips as he eases you back against Price’s chest. The alpha wraps his arms around you, a quiet rumble sounding from his chest as he tries to ease your disorientation and discomfort. 
Kyle leaves you and Price there to soak as he heads back to the room to strip the sheets and start the laundry. Most of your pillows and stuffed animals are stacked in the corner of the room by your desk, spared from the mess that the bed has turned into. The sheets are still wet with a concoction of fluids, and he knows they’ll need to soak for a while. He stuffs them into the bag with your clothes, along with your blankets, before he heads down the hall to the laundry room. 
He checks on you and Price when he returns, both of you content still in the bath. He can’t help but smile as he watches the two of you, pride swelling in his chest at the sight of his alpha taking care of their omega. 
Their omega. 
It seems almost strange to think now. They’d gone so long without an omega, and thought they wouldn’t be getting one. Now, six weeks later, they’ve all fallen head over heels for a little omega none of them even knew they needed. He can’t imagine life without an omega now, how well you fit into their pack, how well you fit with all of them, how you’ve only served to make them stronger and more efficient. 
He hates to admit that perhaps Laswell was right. 
Maybe they did need you after all. 
Kyle bags up the plastic mattress protector, glad to see it did its job. He replaces the sheets and blankets for now, knowing you’ll want to nest once you’re more aware. He checks his phone before heading back into the bathroom, kneeling down next to the tub. Your shaking has subsided, reduced to a shudder here and there as you’ve slowly relaxed in the hot water. 
Kyle grabs a cloth and your body wash, starting to gently clean your skin, or at least get the sweat and other fluids off. Bruises litter your skin and the claiming mark on your shoulder is scabbed and angry. Kyle carefully washes it, not wanting to apply too much pressure as he cleans off the dried blood still stuck to your skin. He knows it’s going to hurt for a while. 
“What did Dr. Keller say?” Price asks as he helps ease you up so Kyle can wash your back. 
“Said if her temperature is normal then the worst is over.” Kyle answers. “She wants to do a check up soon, make sure everything’s alright. Said she’d come here to do it, if that’s alright.” 
Price grunts quietly as Kyle starts to wash his chest. “That’s fine. Easier than going all the way to the medical building. Simon and Johnny?” 
“Fine.” Kyle answers. “Been keeping busy running drills and stuff. Johnny’s been keeping Simon occupied.” 
Price hums, letting his eyes close as Kyle washes his neck and shoulders. “Good.” 
Kyle makes sure to get all of the soap rinsed off before pulling the plug on the water, carefully lifting you up to stand. He lets you lean against him, grabbing one of the towels to dry you off as best he can. Price gets himself standing, drying himself off as Kyle helps you back to bed. Price joins you, wrapping his arms around you tight as Kyle tucks the blankets up around you both. 
“Can I get you anything?” Kyle asks as he sets a new bottle of electrolytes on the nightstand. “Real food maybe?” 
“I’d kill for some bangers and mash, maybe a pint.” Price says, a smile tugging at his lips. 
“I’ll see what I can scrounge up.” Kyle says, glancing at you one last time before he leaves the room. 
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Your body aches. There’s a deep soreness in your muscles, and a painful throb between your legs. Your skin feels raw and tight, and there's a steady pulse behind your eyes. A quiet sound leaves your lips before you can stop it, the sound cracking and broken from your raw throat. There's a desert in your mouth again, your tongue dry and heavy in your mouth.
Your thoughts are dragged away from the agony in your body as a quiet rumbling starts somewhere in front of you, your brain going quiet except for the need to seek it out. You press yourself closer to it, meeting warm skin as you try to get closer and closer. You want to bury yourself in it, seep into its depths until you can feel the vibrations of it in your bones. Arms wrap around you, pulling you in closer until you're squished against a bare chest. 
You press your face against the soft skin, trying to get closer to the rumbling purr vibrating from deep within. You let out another sound, body going lax as the purr lulls you into a relaxed state. The tension leaves your body, easing the ache in your muscles a bit. Not much, but enough to pull a relieved sigh from your lips. 
“Easy, love.” A quiet voice says, another hand touching your back. 
You tense slightly at the intrusion on your safe space, but quickly relax as the hand stills on your skin. The calming scent of beta overtakes you, easing your mind to a quiet hum as your alpha and beta work to calm you. You feel a bit disoriented as reality slowly begins to return, seeping back into your brain. 
You went into heat. 
You remember waking up with the blistering inferno burning hot within you, the insatiable need pulsing between your legs. You remember Kyle being there, the soft scent of him as he helped you prepare, pulling off your clothes and making you drink some of the electrolytes. You remember John entering the room, the way his scent made your brain feel like mush. You remember him sinking his teeth into your shoulder, his knot forcing you open before everything went dark. 
Everything else is a dark blur, wiped from your memory after your instincts took over. 
You shift against the body you’re pressed close to, a deep ache rippling through you. It hurts, everything hurts. Your hips are sore, your shoulder is throbbing, every muscle feels like you just did a triathlon with no training, and there’s a sharp throbbing between your thighs. 
You’re crying before you even realize it, the tears uncontrollable as they slide down your cheeks, the quiet sniffles and sobs aggravating your already aching body. The arms around you tighten, the purring getting louder, but you can’t stop the onslaught of tears. 
You flinch as something tickles the skin of your forehead, chapped lips pressing a soft kiss to your hairline. You let out a whine as you continue to cry, your mind a swirl of confusion and disorientation as you try to come to terms with everything that’s happened. You don’t know how long it’s been, what day it is. You don’t even know what happened to you in the last week. 
You continue to cry, oblivious to the conversation happening over you, the gentle purring in your ears lulling you into a dazed state as you float in and out of consciousness. The pain of being moved momentarily brings you back before you settle again, laying back against a chest. A baggy shirt is pulled over your head, smelling of your alpha. The fabric feels different than it had days ago when you’d woken up in the throes of your heat. It’s soft, not offending, and it offers you warmth and comfort. 
You don’t want to move, you don’t want to do anything. Exhaustion pulls at the edges of your mind as you lay there, the tears still streaming down your cheeks.
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He hasn’t stopped purring since you woke up. The low rumble in his chest hasn’t stopped, and neither has the ache blooming there since you started crying. Even in your dazed, half asleep state, the tears still roll down your cheeks, quiet shaky breaths catching every so often. He’s not sure what to do, how to help. He’s never been with an omega that’s cried before. Not like this. 
His purring kicks up in volume as you startle awake when the door opens, letting out a broken whimper as your space suddenly gets invaded. He tries to soothe you, his arms tightening around you to try and ground you in his presence. 
“Hi, honey.” Dr. Keller says, kneeling down next to the bed, her voice soft and the scent of beta thick in the air. “Still a bit out of it, huh?” 
“She hasn’t stopped crying since she woke up.” He says, rubbing gentle circles on your arm with his thumb. 
“That’s not unusual.” Dr. Keller says, digging through her bag to pull out a thermometer. “There’s a lot going on right now for her. Besides the exhaustion and the confusion and the pain, there’s a lot of rapid hormonal changes happening. Some omegas can just wake up and hop out of it immediately and be just fine.” 
John frees one of your arms so Dr. Keller can take your pulse and blood pressure. 
“Others might struggle a bit more.” She continues. “Purebred omegas especially have a hard time coming out of it. They’re more sensitive to those instincts and the sudden cut off of them is rather jarring.” She puts her equipment back in her bag. “Her vitals look good, which makes me confident to hold off on any further examinations until she’s more alert and aware.” 
“Are there things we should look out for?” Kyle asks. 
“She’s going to be drowsy and fatigued for a while, but if you can’t wake her at all, call me. If her breathing gets shallow or her pulse weakens or she starts developing a fever again, call me. Also check for blood the next time she uses the bathroom. Her vitals aren’t showing any indication of internal injuries, though, so I think she’ll be just fine.” She pulls a pill bottle from her bag. “I’ve prescribed some muscle relaxers for her. There’s a week’s worth in there. It’ll help with the pain and discomfort, but they will make her sleepy. The best thing she can do right now is rest and recover. Once she’s more aware, you can try some soft foods and lots of liquids. If she’s really struggling, I can set up an IV and get some fluids into her, perk her up a bit.” 
“Thank you.” John says, shifting you slightly so Dr. Keller can look at the bite mark on your shoulder.
“How are you feeling?” She asks him, pulling out a disinfectant wipe.
“Sore.” John huffs out a laugh. “Nothing I can’t handle, though.” 
Dr. Keller hums as she cleans the wound on your shoulder. “I know I’m not here to give you medical advice, but as your omega’s doctor I feel the need to remind you not to ignore your own symptoms. She needs you right now, more than ever. So don’t try to macho man your way through anything. You need to rest just as much as she does.” 
“Yes, doctor.” He grumbles, adjusting your shirt once she’s done. 
Dr. Keller gives him a smile. “You did a good job.” She turns to Kyle. “Both of you. Don’t hesitate to call me. It’s what I’m here for.” 
A smile tugs at John’s lips as Kyle practically beams from Dr. Keller’s praise. He did do a good job. You’re both still breathing after all. 
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3 Days Ago
“I cannae take anymore.” Johnny pants, his breaths near wheezes as he rests his hands on his knees. “Ye said you'd go easy on me.”
“I never promised anything, Johnny.” Simon says, standing behind him. 
“Hell's bells, L.T.” Johnny groans, dropping to his hands and knees. “Gonna kill me at this rate.”
“Don't be dramatic. C'mon, again.” 
“Uh uh.” Johnny says, flopping onto his side on the ground. “Am pure done in! ‘S almost lunch anyway.” He rolls onto his back, looking in the direction of the barracks as he wipes the sweat from his brow. “Think they're havin’ fun?”
Simon looks down at him, looming over him like a shadow. “Probably seems like it right now. Be a different story when it’s done.”
“Sometimes I wish I knew what it was like.” Johnny says, turning his gaze up to Simon's face. He can't see much under the mask, and right now is one of those moments when he wishes he could. 
“You really don't. It's messy and gory.” Simon offers him a hand, helping Johnny to his feet. “Gotta be prepared to pick up the pieces afterwards.” Simon turns, heading in the direction of the barracks. 
“That why you've never taken an omega?” Johnny asks, following him.
Simon stops dead in his tracks, turning to look at Johnny. Johnny's back straightens at the look in Simon's eyes. No, not Simon. Ghost. He's looking at Ghost again. 
“Drop it. Or I'll make you do another lap.” Ghost says, his voice taking on the low rasp he gets when he's shifted into the laser focused headspace of the Lieutenant. 
“Yes, sir.” Johnny says, following after Ghost as they head back towards the barracks. 
Ghost slips into the showers once they enter, Johnny heading to the corner to peek down the hallway towards their rooms. It's quiet now. It hadn't been when they left earlier. He could hear it as they passed the hall to go out the door, the distant sound of moans and the bedframe knocking against the wall. He had fought the erection threatening to tent his shorts all the way to the field. He knows heats are no light matter, but the mental image he's drawn up of you blissed out, mouth open as you moan, back arching in pleasure has been plaguing him for nearly two weeks. He's desperate, practically chomping at the bit to get a chance to see it himself first hand, to see the real thing putting his mental image to shame. 
He makes his way down the hallway, keeping a respectful distance between himself and your room. Kyle looks up from his spot on the bed where he'd been scrolling on his phone.
“How're they doin’?” Johnny asks, wiping the sweat from his face. 
“Alright. Sleeping for the moment.” Kyle answers. Johnny can only imagine the torture of having to sit and listen to nonstop fucking for the last three days. 
“We're gonna grab lunch soon. Want us tae bring ye somethin’?” 
Kyle nods. “Sure. That'd be great.” 
“Ye got it.” Johnny nods, passing a glance at your door before looking back to Kyle. “Good luck.”
“Thanks, mate.” Kyle says, watching his fellow beta walk back down the hall. 
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Johnny glances up from his phone as Simon huffs out what's the tenth sigh in the last three minutes. The alpha is seated at his desk, clicking away at something on his computer and occasionally mashing away at the keyboard rather harshly. Johnny's surprised he hasn't cracked a key yet, or just thrown the whole thing out the window. The beta can see how tightly his alpha is wrung by the tenseness in his shoulders, the hard set of his brow, the set line of his lips, the occasional tick of his jaw. 
“What's got ye all riled up?” Johnny finally breaks the silence, setting his phone aside. 
“Nothing.” Simon grumbles, ignoring Johnny's gaze.
Johnny’s brow furrows and he pushes himself to stand, moving over to Simon’s side. “Doesnae seem like nothin’ to me.” He puts his hands on Simon’s broad shoulders, squeezing them, feeling the tension in his muscles. “Awful tense, Si.” 
“Leave it, Johnny.” Simon grumbles, trying to swat the beta away, but he’s insistent. 
“Wouldnae be a little omega getting you so tense, would it?” Johnny teases. 
Simon turns to him, his eyes darkening. His jaw clenches, hands closing into fists where they sit on the armrests of his chair. “Don’t push it, Johnny.” His voice has that deep rumble to it, the threat of his alpha coming through. 
Johnny stares at him, feeling the danger prickling at the back of his neck, but at the same time, he wants to push that boundary. He wants to see just how far he can push his alpha until he finally gives in. 
“I don’t know why ye keep torturing yourself like this, Si. Ye know ye like her. She’d be more’n willing-” 
“That’s the problem.” Simon snaps, pushing himself up from his seat, forcing Johnny to take a step back. “She’s not doing this because she wants to. She’s only doing this because she’s been told to do it.” 
“She’s an omega. Her whole life was going tae be people tellin’ her what to do and forcin’ her tae do things, even if she didn’t want to. Ye think things would have been different if she’d been put with a different pack?” Johnny doesn’t back down from Simon’s glare, having been on the receiving end of it enough times now he’s almost immune to it. “Things could have been a lot worse for her. She might not have wanted to be here, but she is. Ye can’t change that, Si. No matter how badly you might want to.” 
Johnny can tell by the slow fall to Simon’s tense shoulders that he’s struck home. The situation wasn’t ideal, but it’s what they were dealt. You’re here with them, and he’s going to make sure you feel as comfortable as possible. 
Simon lets out another sigh, turning away from Johnny to crawl into their makeshift bed. He lays down with a huff, closing his eyes. Johnny smirks, slowly crawling onto the two cots pushed together, laying down right next to Simon. He rests his hand on Simon’s thigh, feeling the powerful muscle flex under his hand. He slowly begins to drag it higher, Simon’s eyes opening again. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” Simon rasps, but he doesn’t move, even as Johnny reaches the junction of his hip and thigh. 
“Yer all worked up, big guy.” Johnny says, leaning his head on his hand, slowly moving his hand over Simon’s very prominent bulge. “Thought I’d help ye.” 
“What makes you think I want your help?” Simon says, still laying still. 
Johnny lifts his brows, slowly rubbing Simon through his pants. “This looks rather painful, and I seem to be the only option to help, since everyone else is rather occupied-” 
Johnny’s words are cut off as he finds himself suddenly on his back, Simon’s hand around his throat. The alpha is leaning over him, a deep rumble vibrating through his chest. “You talk too much, Johnny.” Simon rumbles, leaning close to the beta’s face. 
“I’ve been told tha’ before.” Johnny says, leaning up to try and kiss his alpha, but Simon backs away before he can make contact. “By you if I remember correctly.” 
Simon’s fingers flex around his throat, a moan spilling from his lips as Simon grinds his hips against Johnny’s. His cock is hard in his pants, has been for a while. He’s not sure if it’s from the lewd thoughts that have been plaguing his mind since you first kissed him, weeks ago, or if it’s just a response to the knowledge that you’re currently fucking their pack alpha like your life depends on it. 
Johnny lets out a whimper, bucking up against Simon desperately. Simon tuts at him, pressing against his throat to keep him still on the bed as he sits himself up on top of the beta. 
“Naughty little thing.” Simon says, staring down into his blue eyes. “Know you’ve been thinking about sinking your cock into the new little omega for weeks.” Johnny lets out a whine, his cock twitching in his pants. “I don’t think you’ll even make it that long, will you pup?” Simon chuckles. “Gonna cum in your pants as soon as you see her tits, huh?” Simon presses down, putting more pressure against his cock as he rubs it through his pants. “Gonna cum in your pants just thinking about it.” 
Johnny holds his breath, trying to focus anywhere except for Simon’s hand. He squeezes his eyes closed as Simon undoes the button on his cargo pants, releasing his throat to tug the fabric down around his knees. 
“Bloody hell.” Simon says, wrapping a hand around Johnny’s hard cock. “Prettiest cock I’ve ever seen.” 
“I thought Kyle’s was the prettiest.” Johnny says, opening his eyes to glance down at his alpha. 
“Kyle’s just pretty.” Simon says, slowly stroking Johnny’s cock. “You have the prettiest cock.” 
“Christ...” Johnny breathes as Simon continues to jerk his cock, his hips bucking as he can feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. 
A pathetic whimper leaves Johnny’s lips as Simon pulls his hand away, sitting up on his knees over his beta. He undoes his belt, tossing it to the floor before undoing his pants, pulling them and his briefs down to release his own throbbing cock. Johnny licks his lips as Simon fists his own cock, slowly stroking it. 
“Turn around. Let me see that pretty ass.” Simon says. 
“Yes, sir.” Johnny smirks, wiggling himself until he’s flat on his stomach, pushing his ass into the air as best he can with his legs trapped between Simon’s. 
Simon purrs quietly at Johnny’s response, running his hands over his beta’s pert cheeks. “Prettiest ass too.” He murmurs, gently spreading his cheeks. 
“I’m startin’ to think I might be the prettiest.” Johnny says, gasping quietly as a glob of warm spit hits his hole. 
“Give me a night with Kyle and I’ll get back to you on that.” Simon says, pressing a finger into Johnny’s ass. 
Johnny groans, pressing his face into the pillow. “Fucking Christ.” 
“You can take it.” Simon soothes him, reaching down to fish the lube out of the bag he’d tossed it in last night. He squirts some on his finger before pressing further in, spreading Johnny’s ass open. “Good boy.” 
Johnny nearly melts into the cot, letting out a pathetic sound as Simon adds a second finger. He’s still sore from the last three days, but his drive to please his alpha pushes away any sensitivity he’s feeling. That, and the lust burning hot in him. Betas don’t have heat cycles, but he might as well be in the middle of one with how horny he’s been these last few days. He knows part of it is Simon being worked up by the knowledge that there’s an omega in heat nearby, and his own body reacting to his alpha. He’s never been around an omega in heat, and he doesn’t think Simon has either. 
He’s not sure Simon has ever been with an omega at all before. 
More cold lube hits his hole, a second finger pressing in. He gasps at the stretch, squeezing around Simon’s thick fingers. Simon’s other hand trails up his back, pushing his shirt up as he goes. Johnny pushes himself up slightly, tugging the fabric over his head before he relaxes back down against the blankets. 
Simon presses a third finger in, working Johnny open with what still won’t be enough, but Johnny won’t complain. He’s taken his alpha before. He’ll do it gladly again. 
“Fuck, Johnny.” Simon grunts as Johnny squeezes around his fingers again. 
“Cannae help it.” Johnny whines. “Feels too good.” 
“Didn’t say you could cum yet.” Simon says, removing his fingers. “Naughty pup.” 
Johnny lets out a pathetic sounding whimper, pressing his ass up to try and chase Simon’s fingers. He yelps as Simon’s hand meets his skin, his hips dropping back to the bed at the force of Simon’s spank. 
“Stay still.” Simon growls, the cap of the lube popping open again. 
Johnny does as he’s told, keeping himself still as Simon prepares himself. He groans as the tip of Simon’s cock presses against his hole, his hands fisting the sheets at the stretch. Simon’s hand rubs his back, trying to get him to relax. Johnny breathes, forcing himself to go lax, letting Simon slip in further. 
“Good boy.” Simon groans, bracing himself on the bed as he presses further and further into Johnny’s tight hole. “That’s my good boy. You can take it.” 
“Fuck!” Johnny groans, practically preening from the praise. 
“That’s it.” Simon groans, pressing in until his hips are flush with Johnny’s ass. “Bloody fucking hell.” 
Johnny’s mind goes blank as he’s filled, all thoughts leaving at the feeling of his alpha inside of him. He’s panting already, stretched open around his alpha’s cock. Simon begins to move, rocking his hips slowly, drawing his cock out before pushing it back in. Johnny whines, pushing back against Simon, needing more. 
“Please...” Johnny begs. “Please alpha!”
“Fuck.” Simon grunts, bracing himself further before snapping his hips against Johnny. “Like that? That what you want, pup?”
Johnny almost yelps at the sensation, hands fisting the blankets as his body rocks forward on the cot. “Fuck, yes!” 
Simon sets a brutal pace, hips snapping against Johnny’s ass. Pleasure numbs Johnny’s mind as the sensation of Simon inside of him. His cock is trapped between his body and the cot, dragging against the blankets with every thrust. He’s going to cum soon, he knows that. He won’t be able to hold it, not with how sensitive he already is. 
“Gonna cum, can’t hold it!” He whines, pushing back against Simon’s thrusts for more friction. “Fuck, alpha!” 
Johnny cums quickly with a groan, the blankets getting damp under him as he shakes in his release. Simon doesn’t stop, undeterred by Johnny’s clenching around him in his orgasm. He’s going to ring a few more out of Johnny before he’s done. 
They’re both in for a long night. 
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nxuvillette · 4 months
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“WE’RE SUPPOSED TO BE JUST FRIENDS!”
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FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS HCS W/ BLLK MEN
synopsis: it’s just a situationship. those usually don’t lead to much, right?
❥- including : michael kaiser, oliver aiku, sae itoshi
❥- note : first bllk post !! i’m slowly getting back into it, so i hope you all enjoy <3 ! reblogs are appreciated !!
content warnings : nsfw [17+], fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, rough sex (kaiser), some degradation (kaiser), spanking (kaiser), car sex (sae), birthday sex (oliver), mentions of food (sae), use of pet names (baby , princess , good girl), creampie (all), friends with benefits, mentions of hookups, mentions of alcohol (oliver + kaiser), dacryphilia (kaiser), praising.
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♡ MICHAEL KAISER
your little friends with benefits with kaiser had begun over six months ago. you and him were both at a party on new years and one thing led to another, and you ended up head first into his mattress with his cock deep inside you. you both promised it would be a one time thing, but one time turned to two, three, and eventually four times.
he was the one who proposed the idea of having a little “thing.” he said you could both call it off at any time and you weren’t exclusive to each other. it didn’t sound like such a bad idea anyway. it was just mindless fun with pleasure mixed within, right?
kaiser was so fucking great in bed. whenever you two would link up, he would make sure you were shaking by the time he was done. he loved seeing the reactions your body had whenever he did something to it. you were so addictive. there were even a few times he would skip practice so he could go and fuck your brains out. if anything, you were the best workout he could ever ask for. your sweaty bodies clinging to each other afterwards was better than any drug he could ever try. he wondered where the hell you had been hiding all of this time.
tonight was a bit different, though. 
kaiser had hit you up later on in the evening. it was a bit odd since you recalled him telling you that he had a game earlier in the day. you shrugged it off, but that changed when you stepped into his nice apartment and noticed how his demeanor was different. he seemed pissed off. you could just tell from his facial expressions and how he carried himself around. 
when you both reached the bed, kaiser was a lot rougher than he usually was. your face was shoved into the pillow and your ass was sore from the amount of times he had spanked you. his pace was set quite quick as well. his balls smacked your puffy clit with every thrust, and he seemed to be taking whatever was wrong out on you. 
“fuck.. yeah, that’s right, take my fuckin’ cock..” he grunted, his fingertips dragging up your spine. “stupid fucks saying i can’t score.. wait till they see what i’m scoring every night..”
you whimpered when kaiser’s palm made contact with your ass cheeks again. a harsh slap filled your ears, making your pussy clench slightly around his cock. “k-kaiser..” your fingers curled on the sheets below you. 
he smirked, taking a fistful of your hair to yank you upwards towards him. “yeah..? you like when i fuck you like a good little slut?” he questioned. “you’re so fucking beautiful.. god, i’m gonna make you cum so hard..”
kaiser then took hold of your hips, slamming his cock into your aching hole. he could feel your pussy twitching around him, signaling you were close to your climax. he wanted to make you a fucking mess. he was the only guy that could make you see stars whenever you finally came. that’s how he knew he was good enough for you. 
“kaiser, kaiser! i’m gonna cum!” you cried, tears forming at your lash line from how intense the pleasure was.
he clenched his teeth when your cunt spasmed around his dick. you squeezed him so tightly that he hit his orgasm as well. his cum leaked into your walls, filling your womb nicely. 
kaiser then flipped you over so you were now laying on your back. sweat trickled down his body and along the blue rose tattoo that covered his neck. “wanna go for round two..? i got a lot more i wanna do to you, baby.” he grinned.
♡ OLIVER AIKU
you started seeing oliver right after your birthday party which was at one of the clubs in your city. your friends surprised you with a fun evening of drinks and dancing. it was what you needed. 
your friend caught oliver staring at you the entire night. his dual colored eyes never left your body and the way it swayed on the dance floor to the music that vibrated around the club. he was with two other guys and he didn’t seem to have a single care about what they were talking about. he was solely focused on you and your friends were trying their best to make you talk to him. you denied it a few times because you thought a guy as hot as him was probably looking at someone else, but you were wrong.
after a few drinks, you gained the confidence to walk over to him when he was by himself. he introduced himself and he seemed a little surprised to see that you came over yourself. he almost thought for a moment that he would have to be the one to get up and make a move, but he thought it was hot of you to come to him.
you two both ended up going into one of the back rooms inside of the club. oliver’s cock was bullying your walls and he had your legs over his shoulders. your pussy hugged him perfectly, and he knew damn well he was gonna like you. there was just something so alluring about you that he couldn’t get enough of. you had to be his dream girl because there was no way that you didn’t come to him for a reason.
oliver kissed you sloppily. he tugged on your lower lip with his teeth and smirked when you moaned into the kiss. “fuck.. you like that, angel? look at you.. the pretty birthday girl getting fucked by me..” he grunted while he felt your cunt clench slightly around him.
your arms were snaked around his neck. his back was covered in scratch marks that irritated his skin, but he paid no mind to them. all he could focus on was you. “y-yes! yes! fuck! ‘so good, oliver!” you threw your head back as he kissed at your g-spot.
he toyed with your puffy clit, drawing you closer to your orgasm. hearing his name come from your lips sent him into a focus that he could hardly pull away from. you were so gorgeous. you took him so fucking well. “come on, baby, cum on this dick.. i wanna see it messy.” he cooed, kissing your lips. “be a good girl for me.. yeah?”
you nodded eagerly and your thighs began to tremble when your high finally crashed over you. oliver couldn’t help but groan when your pussy clamped around his cock, milking him of what was left in his balls. his head went backwards when he felt his orgasm hitting him like a truck. he had such a tight grip on your thighs that it surely would leave a mark the next day. 
oliver sighed, chuckling at how fucked out you looked compared to an hour ago. “i wanna see you again.. maybe i’ll give you another gift for your birthday.. yeah?” he winked.
♡ SAE ITOSHI
you and sae had been hooking up for several months. the two of you met at a restaurant you were serving at, and he had slipped his number onto the receipt he used to tip you. you were a bit shocked at such an action, but nonetheless was he a hot guy you wanted to know more about.
sae was rich and he was very charming. he would make your cheeks burn whenever he flirted with you, and he got you anything you wanted. there were times you would be randomly surprised with flowers or small chocolates. your roommate thought you had a secret admirer, but you knew full well who was behind that. it was cute and you honestly loved it. sae made you happy and you were very attracted to him.
he suggested hookups because neither of you were sure about serious relationships at that moment. you were fine with that and so was he. sae did so many amazing things to your body. he would drive you crazy. there were even a few instances where you sent him videos and photos of yourself in skimpy lingerie or a nice audio where you’re moaning his name. sae fucking loved it.
sae had been away playing soccer for the past month. he finally returned home and you were so excited to see him. the second he pulled up to your building, you ran out and climbed into his car without a single thought. smelling his familiar cologne and seeing that red hair you loved so much brought back so many memories for you.
eventually, you both went to an empty parking lot and escaped to the backseat of his sleek car. you were sitting on his lap with his cock pumping into you at a quick pace. your tits bounced in his face and his hands squeezed the fat of your ass while you rode his cock. he missed you so fucking much. he hated the idea of jerking off because you weren’t there to make him cum as well. seeing you again was like a breath of fresh air. 
“sae..! right there!” your nails dug into the skin of his shoulder blades. 
he let go of your nipple with a sudden ‘pop’ sound. he loved hearing your pretty voice call out for him. “yeah..? shit, look at you..” he groaned, watching as your pussy gripped his cock. 
you pressed your forehead against his, capturing his lips in a soft kiss. his palm came to cup your cheek, feeling how warm it was. he was so close to getting to his climax. you always made him so weak. there was something in the air whenever you came around, and it was drawing sae in. this was unlike any little “thing” he had before. 
his pace rapidly shifted and became very fast. skin slapped against another and your vision went white every time sae reached that button inside of you. “sae! i’m gonna c-cum!” you cried.
sae wrapped his arms around your waist, bouncing you on his cock. “f-fuck.. me too..” he groaned, throwing his head back onto the headrest. he couldn’t help but slam your hips onto his cock to push you deeper into him. you were so cute and perfect.
you inhaled a sharp gasp when that knot in your belly snapped. a creamy white ring circled sae’s cock, making noises come from your dripping cunt. his cock twitched at how much cum came out of him from just that one orgasm. he had to lay back for a moment to catch his breath. 
you slumped against his chest, panting. you felt so tired, but you didn’t want to move. “can we stay like this..?” you titled your head to look at him.
he nodded, smiling softly at you. “of course..”
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© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.
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yanderenightmare · 4 months
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TW: some nsfw
fem reader
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Thinking about what a dumb party girl you are and the poor loser who's stuck tutoring you in all the classes you skip.
You were one of those people who believed everyone to be her friend. The type that went shopping a lot and hung at the mall more days than you bothered showing up to class – a bit of an airhead.
He’d call you a bimbo, but you’re not really known to sleep around – something about finding the right guy.
You opened the door with a smile, “Hi, welcome! Come in~” and pulled him inside by his arm. “I just got out of the shower, so I haven't really gotten dressed – hope you don’t mind!”
You’re in pink from head to toe – a bit excessively, like you’d gone shopping in the little girl’s section, only… you don’t have a little girl’s body… and that top and those shorts are a little too tight on your curves.
“Doesn’t really matter what you wear as long as you got your books.” He answers nonchalantly – as though he isn’t trying hard not to make out the outline of your cunt where it’s cupped so tight in unfairly thin cotton.
“Okay then~” You giggle, interlocking your fingers with his before turning around and leading him in.
His eyes go to the crease of your asscheeks as soon as you turn around, looking at where they peek out from under your bootie shorts – plump squeezable fat jiggling on every peppy step you took in your fluffy bunny slippers as you pull him into the private comfort of your room.
“My parents are out of town, but they left money for pizza – or whatever else you might want~”
You were all alone?
He doesn't know if he likes that or not. Blind trust. Don’t you realize how much bigger he is than you? Doesn’t it cross your mind at all how you’d have to call the police if he decided he didn’t want to leave at the end of the night?
“Pizza’s good.”
You smile, plopping down on your bed. “Okay then, mister Tutor~” Everything in your room is pink as well. “What do you have in store for me?”
You shouldn’t say stuff like that. Gives the wrong impression. You’re lucky he isn’t a bad guy.
“Where’s your books?”
You look a little puzzled for a moment – as though it was an unprompted question. “Right! Uhm…”
You kneel down in front of your bed and drag a dusty stack of textbooks from underneath.
“Here.”
He raises a brow at you.
“Have you ever even opened them?”
You giggle again. “I’ve written my name on the inside like a good girl~”
He struggles hard not to swallow the tightness in his throat – feeling a twitch in his pants at the sight of you sitting on the floor like that.
“Well, it’s a pretty name.”
You look a little disappointed – or maybe it’s just in his head.
In any case, you rise from the floor and sit down in one of the chairs by the desk, which he’d guess had never held any book other than a magazine.
He picks up the textbooks and sits down in the other chair. And it’s odd, staring at himself in the mirror in front of you – but he has to, to see if he looks suspicious – if he’s showing any tells of how badly he wants to touch you.
He opens up the book on the top of the stack, hopes he doesn’t smell like sweat – and you put your hand on the tent in his pants.
The book flaps close, and he jumps out of his chair – and you innocently peer up at him with your long lashes.
Then you say, “What?” as though his reaction surprised you. 
He stays silent – blinking once, then twice – mouth dry and out of words.
You slant your head to the side. “Don’t tell me you had your heart set on teaching me math.”
You have a look on your face that makes him feel like begging.
Standing up, you stalk him until the backs of his knees hit the bed, and he falls down on it with a heavy thud – still stunned and stupid, looking at you with wide eyes as you mount him – rubbing that cute tightly-hugged mound upon his bulging crotch – making him groan with cinched brows, watching your pretty manicured fingers as they fiddle with his belt buckle.
“You really want this?” He asks breathlessly, and you stop to eye him – eyes wondering over that cute look of shock riddled all over his face.
You gave him a small catlike smile, bit your lip, and batted your coy doe-eyes down at him – running your hands up his chest until you reached his throat. “I wouldn’t exactly invite a big boy like you over, much less into my bedroom, if I didn’t want it.”
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BNHA – Shigaraki, Shinso, Bakugou
JJK – Megumi, Nanami, Choso, Yuuta, Geto, Gojo
HQ – Tsukishima, Kuro
CSM – Aki
DS – Zenitzu, Tanjiro
HxH – Feitan, Leorio
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bruisedboys · 1 year
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can I request the first time shy!reader spends the night at eddie’s? maybe she falls asleep during movie night and he just doesn’t have the heart to wake her up? lots of snuggles ensue?!
ohmygosh thank you so much for this adorable req I love u so much. hope this is what u wanted angel!
shy!fem!reader 1.3k words
Eddie comes back from the bathroom and into the living room, only to stop dead in the doorway.
You’ve fallen asleep. On his couch. Well, technically his and Wayne’s, but that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that you’re fast asleep and you look so lovely and peaceful and Eddie actually had to grab the doorframe to stop himself from falling over.
To be trusted so much that you’ve allowed yourself to fall asleep at his place feels like a big step to Eddie. You’re a shy girl, always cautious, overly polite. Eddie remembers the first time you’d been over to his trailer, you were so quiet, so scared of doing or saying something wrong.
And now look at you.
Eddie feels like he’s been punched in the gut. He practically skips the rest of the way to the couch, desperate to be close to you again, a newfound fondness for you burning in his chest that can only be cured by sitting as close as humanly possible to you. He sits down in the space he’d left, his thigh pressed to yours. Your body has tipped away from him, your head resting on a stack of cushions balanced on the arm of the couch.
The credits of the movie you’d been watching with him play on, but Eddie’s too busy looking at you, drinking up every inch of you. Your face, squished into the cushion, the TV light painting you green and red and blue. Your t-shirt sleeve riding up your shoulder. Eddie imagines your skin is as warm and soft as it looks. He longs to touch you and has an excuse when the movie ends. He knows you’ll want to be woken up.
His hand finds your shoulder and his fingers slip beneath your sleeve.
“Y/N, sweetheart.” Eddie squeezes you gently, his thumb pressed to your shoulder. “Wake up.”
It doesn’t take much for you to wake. Soon you’re blinking awake slowly, tearing your tired eyes apart, and it’s maybe the cutest thing you’ve done ever. Eddie feels so much fondness for you it actually hurts.
“Hey,” he says gently. He shuffles closer so he can get his torso in front of yours, hoping to block the TV lights that he’ll know will be blinding for you. “Hey, baby. You fell asleep.”
You blink at him. “I did?” You ask, all raspy and sleepy.
Eddie chuckles and resists the urge to kiss you all over your cute face. “Yeah, you did. Was I boring you?”
Your expression goes from sleepy to mortified so quickly it’s alarming.
“No!” You say quickly, shaking your head. “No, I—“
Eddie’s laugh drowns out the rest of your words, and you stop fretting when you realise he’s teasing.
“I’m messing with you, sweet girl.” He slides his hand up to your collar and presses his thumb to the corner of your mouth. “You must’ve been tired, huh?”
A yawn takes over your features right on queue. Your eyes scrunch up and your mouth opens wide and Eddie can’t stop smiling. You’re so cute.
“Do you want me to take you home?” Eddie asks, his hand still pressed to your face. He’s secretly hoping you’ll say no. He’d like you to stay here forever, thank you very much. “Or … you could stay the night here? Only if you want, of course.”
You blink up at Eddie owlishly. He’s never asked you to stay the night. Never suggested it, because he’s afraid of scaring you off. He’s afraid now, waiting for your answer, that you’ll run away and never come back. But you smile. You smile, and his heart does a backflip.
“Um. Okay,” you say, quiet and unsure but that sweet smile stays put. “I think I’ll stay, if that’s okay with you.”
Eddie melts like a popsicle. He brings his other hand to your jaw and cups your pretty, sleepy face.
“Of course it’s okay, angel,” he says, soft and earnest all at once. His chest feels tight. “You can stay whenever you like, you know.”
Your smile grows. Eddie’s heart aches tenfold. “I know.”
Eddie nods. He’s feeling so much for you in this moment that it’s hard to do anything, let alone speak. Instead he pulls away from you, stands up and holds his hand out. You take it unabashedly.
“Come on then,” he says, finally finding his words as he pulls you up to stand. “I’ll find you some pyjamas, hm?”
Ten minutes later Eddie comes back from the shower and finds you in his bed, dressed in a pair of his red and black checkered pyjama pants and one of his shirts. Your eyes are half closed.
You look so lovely that Eddie feels, for the second time tonight, like he’s been punched in the stomach. His breath hitches and his heart goes haywire.
“Hi,” he says softly, dropping the towel he’d been scrubbing his hair with over the back of his desk chair. “You okay?”
You nod. “M’okay,” you mumble quietly. “Just tired.”
Eddie rounds his bed til he’s on the side you’re on, kneeling next to the bed so he can take your bicep in his hand, his palm kneading at the soft muscle. You look seconds away from falling asleep.
“Poor girl,” he murmurs, mostly to himself. Then, to you, “Do you want me to sleep on the couch? ‘Cos I will, if you’re not comfortable with us both sleeping in the bed.”
You wrench your eyes open and quit looking tired to instead look confused and mildly put out.
“What?” You ask, exhaustion tugging at your words and making them sluggish and slurred. “No, don’t sleep on the couch.”
Eddie grins like mad. He squeezes your bicep, his fingers pushing beneath your t-shirt sleeve. “You want me to sleep in the bed? With you?”
You shut you eyes again and nod into your pillow. Eddie can’t stop smiling.
“Okay, then.”
He gives your arm one last squeeze and then leaps up to switch the light off. The room gets swallowed by darkness. Eddie can just make out your figure where you’re lying in his bed, the bump of your hip, the curve of your legs.
He slides into bed next to you and it feels like it’s never felt before. Even though it’s his same, regular old bed that he sleeps in every night, nothing about this is regular. Nothing about this doesn’t make his heart race and his skin tingle and his stomach ache with fondness sweet as sugar.
He shuffles closer to you and his arm touches your arm.
“Are you okay?” He asks you. You’re awfully quiet. Well, quieter than usual. He knows it’s because you’re tired, and maybe because this whole thing is probably making you about as nervous as it’s making him, if not more.
You don’t answer but you do press your arm further into Eddie’s. He curls his pinky around yours in the dark.
“Are you nervous?” He whispers, staring at the dark roof, feeling quite a bit nervous himself.
He feels rather than hears you rolling over, and when he tears his eyes away from the roof to look at you, he sees you’ve rolled onto your side to look at him.
“A bit,” you whisper back. Your pinky hooks tighter around his.
“Me too,” Eddie admits. “I’ve never had a girl sleep over before.”
You make a sound that Eddie thinks is a tired, quiet laugh. He can hear your smile when you say, “Really?”
Eddie nods though you probably can’t see him. He slides closer and takes your hand, his fingers lacing through yours. You’re so close you could lay your head on his chest if you wanted. He hopes you will eventually.
“Yeah, really,” he says. He dips his head to kiss your forehead. “Get some sleep now, okay?”
You hum something incoherent. You’re asleep within the next minute, your head lolling onto Eddie’s shoulder within the next two.
Eddie lies awake for far longer, wondering how in the world he got this damn lucky.
-
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6K notes · View notes
yoichiris · 1 year
Text
better than letting go | nagi seishiro x reader
✩ accidental sugar daddy nagi ✩ pro-player!nagi, roommates au, angst to fluff, heavy pining, miscommunication
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"just go live with nagi," reo says offhandedly, "if you clean up after him, he'll let you stay there forever."
you open your mouth to refute the suggestion, because reo knows how you feel about nagi, knows you couldn't possibly stay in an enclosed space with him hours on day on end without jumping him... but before you do, nagi himself interrupts.
"i'm okay with that," he replies in his usual laid-back voice.
you glare at him because you think he sounds more excited about the cleaning part.
"you're going to be homeless," reo shrugs, "why not?"
you return your glare at reo, "why can't you just house me in one of your billion-dollar properties."
"then i'd have to ask my old man for permission," he waves you off like the asshole he is, "no thanks."
"what's wrong with living with me?" nagi wonders, and you hate him for acting like he wants to live with you so badly.
"look, just clean nagi's dirty underwear for the next year while you finish your degree and you won't have to worry about a thing," reo explains, as if there aren't other factors like your five-year infatuation with nagi, and maybe the fact that nagi lives like he doesn't know what a vacuum does.
you sigh, thinking about the end of your lease and the astronomical increase in rent incoming, and how much you don't want to work your stupid part-time job, and give in.
of course it's not that bad. all you had to do was keep your feelings to yourself.
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"nagi," you hiss, "nagi, wake up, you're going to be late!"
he only stirs, covers tucked under his chin, as if he's hiding from you. you inch the door wider, stepping into his room hesitantly. he doesn't even make a move.
"nagi," you whine, crouching at the side of his bed.
he makes a sound of acknowledgment but keeps his eyes closed, so you sit cross-legged on the floor, watching his sleeping form. he's so cute like this, you think, yearning.
it's been a week since you moved in with nagi. in a lot of ways, he's exactly what you thought he would be like in private: he's rarely home, and when he is, he's quiet.
you thought he would spend more time in his room, under the covers, but you realize quickly he's furnished his couch with the coziest throw and likes to curl under there when he is home.
it makes your heart warm when you come home to see nagi, his toes sticking out from underneath the blanket, waiting for you to eat dinner.
"...what time is it?" you hear him mumble.
your heart skips a beat when he opens his eyes, groggy with sleep, and touches your arm. you sigh shakily.
"too late," you smile softly at him, "i'll prep your pre-workout so you can take it with you, okay?"
"thanks," he tells you, his voice raspy.
he smiles back at you and reaches out, poking you in the forehead. when you feel his fingers touch your skin, you think you'll drop dead right there.
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"are you gonna move out after you graduate?" reo asks, nine months into your arrangement.
you've been avoiding even thinking about it. you're busy with graduation, you justify to yourself, you don't have time to look for a new place yet.
"hm?" you hum innocently, "i dunno. haven't had time to think about it."
"nagi asked me 'bout it," he mentions casually, and you freeze. is he counting the days down until you leave?
you and nagi have settled into a daily routine: you wake him up, he goes to practice, you study after class, and when he comes back late at night, he hangs out with you for an hour before he has to sleep. mostly, you and nagi sit on either end of the couch, sharing the cozy throw, and read manga.
it's lulled you into a false sense of security, you think.
"oh," is all you manage to say. maybe he finds you bothersome? maybe he wants his own space back?
reo hits you over the head, lightly. "what's that face for? it's been going good living with nagi, right?"
and it was. it was everything you had dreamed of, and it shocked you how well you got along with nagi. you think of how, in early mornings when both of you (mostly you) are rushing out the door, bumping hips in the kitchen, even then it seems like you were working together.
"yep," you reply, sipping your iced coffee, "too good."
reo takes a bite of his food, and suggests, "maybe you two should just keep living together. you can split rent or something."
"can't rely on nagi forever," you protest.
"why not?" he says, just like he did when he had first suggested this whole thing, "isn't that what you want?"
you kick him under the table, angry that he was bringing your feelings up now. yes, you want to scream, it is. but nothing has changed between you and nagi, nothing at all.
you're always trying to keep your feelings in check: when he peers over your shoulder as you're cooking, the warmth of his body hot asgainst yours. or how adorable he looks when he comes out of the shower, his shaggy hair falling over his eyes, his face shiny. those are the times your feelings want to burst.
"just talk to nagi about it," reo nudges. you're not sure if he's talking about the housing or the feelings.
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you're curled up with nagi on the couch when you muster the courage to say anything. your legs are touching his under the blanket, and you feel as if that might connect you to him.
there's a month left until you graduate, which is absolutely not enough time for you to find a place to live, but you were scared. you hear the victory sounds of nagi's mobile game, so you decide now's better than never.
"so," you start, and his gaze drifts over to you, "i haven't really found a new place to live yet."
it's quiet. "s'okay," nagi mumbles, not even looking up from his phone, "you can move out whenever."
well, at least that answers your question on whether or not he wants you to move out. at least he wasn't pushing you out the door, you tell yourself.
you don't know what else to say. do you want me to leave so badly? you want to ask. can't i stay with you? you think, desperate. but those words don't leave your mouth.
"are you coming to my graduation?" you ask lightly, and regret it when you realize that you've opened yourself up again.
he shrugs. "dunno my prac schedule yet, but reo's going right?" he replies, as if reo could replace him.
you feel cold despite the blanket, and sink deeper into the couch, feeling drained. from the corner of your eye, you see nagi tapping away at his phone, signaling to you that he's still deep in his game. you take your legs away, knowing he wouldn't even notice.
"yep," you say and awkwardly crawl out of your warm spot on the couch. "i'm gonna go to bed first, nagi."
"g'night," he replies, finally looking up as you pass him with your head bowed. he watches you walk back to your room, and doesn't take his eyes off of you until you close the door behind you.
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you eventually begged reo to find you an empty unit in one of his father's rental properties.
he had been insistent you just talk to nagi, as if he knew something you didn't, but you had to explain that you did, and nagi had no objections to you moving out, and you weren't going to wait until he shoved you out the door to move on.
it has been so awkward since that small conversation you'd had with nagi. maybe it was you, feeling out of place, like you had reached a point of no return.
waking him up in the mornings were now rushed, gently pushing him awake and scurrying off before he was fully awake. leaving his pre-workout on the counter instead of handing it to him. sitting at the kitchen table under the guise of studying instead of curling up on the couch with him.
it's not that he'd changed, you knew, it's that you couldn't keep playing pretend with your feelings anymore.
you hear the front door click as nagi walks into the apartment.
"hey," he says, pushing open the door to your room, "i'm home."
you turn from your position at the front of your closet, where you were just about to take out your suitcase. "oh, hey," you reply lamely, "welcome home."
he hovers, something he's never really done, as if he knows you have something to say, as if he had something to say. the words were stuck in your throat.
"reo told me you're moving out," nagi finally tells you.
traitor, you curse at reo. "uh, yeah," you smile tightly, "i didn't want to keep bothering you, so..."
"you're not bothering me," he replies, maybe a little too quickly, but you don't notice.
there's another silence. what else can you say?
"you don't have to leave," nagi continues, "i don't mind if you stay here."
but do you want me to stay? you want to ask. the way he says it so casually, as if it didn't matter whether you stayed or not, only solidified your decision to be away from him. at least then you could just be his friend without delusions of sharing a life with him so intimately.
"nah," you try to keep your voice steady, "it's probably better this way."
"i like living with you, though," nagi shuffles his hair uncomfortably as he says it.
you laugh, maybe a little bitterly, "because i cook and clean for you?"
"no," he says quickly, looking flustered, "no, i just like it when you're here."
but why? you want to scream. your heart pounds, because you feel like you're close to something, but at the same time it feels so far. sometimes you're convinced that he knows about your feelings, that sometimes you two are talking about them even though the topic is unrelated.
"it was nice," you settle on saying, as if it wasn't life changing, "but i can afford living on my own now."
"i don't want you to leave," nagi almost sounds like he's whining, and your heart skips another beat.
"why not?" you say, frustrated, breathless, "we can't just keep living together forever."
"what if i want to?" he says, and you feel like the conversation has become out of control.
your mind is racing. what is happening right now, you try to breathe through your nose. what is he talking about right now, you try to ask yourself.
"nagi—" you stop yourself, trying to get a grip, "what are you saying?"
you're looking at him now and you're surprised by the determination in his eyes. it's what he looks like when he's really focused, like he is when he plays soccer.
"i want to live with you forever," he declares, sounding defiant, as if that wasn't what you wanted.
but you're not sure what it means. you only know that five years is a long time to be holding onto your feelings.
"i don't understand," you mumble, staring at the floor, quieter than before, "i love you, nagi. not as a friend. so no, i can't just live with you forever."
you feel him before you see him, his body towering over you. when you look up, he's pouting. he puts his hand on top of your head, gentle, warm.
"why do you look so sad," he wonders, as if he hadn't heard what you just said, "that's why i want to live with you forever, dummy."
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you wake up to nagi wrapped around you.
"sei," you groan, turning in his arms to look at his sleeping face, "you're heavy."
he mutters, groggy, incoherent, and you can't help but press a kiss to his nose. his hair is falling all over his face, but your eyes memorize every slope. he squeezes you harder.
"why are you awake so early," he mutters, nudging your chest with his head, "it's my day off."
you soothe your hand down his bare back, feeling the tight muscles underneath your fingers. he works so hard, and his days off are so rare. you wiggle some more, to loosen his arms.
"i know," you smile, "but let me go make breakfast, kay? i'm hungry."
he shakes his head and whines. "no," he refuses, "just go back to sleep."
you relax, unable to tell him no. mornings with nagi often go like this, except that you usually have enough self-control to get him up. but sometimes, you remember what it was like wanting him so bad, that now you remind yourself to enjoy it.
as a partner, nagi is clingy, vulnerable. but he's also determined, and sometimes, the intensity with which he wants you catches you off guard.
"y/n," he calls, his breath hot against your neck, "i'm happy you're here."
you close your eyes, nodding. "me, too."
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hippiepowrs · 2 months
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one night lookin' pretty
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eddie munson x fem!metalhead!reader
you and eddie hate school dances, but you decide to go to the prom this year--with someone who isn't eddie. eddie does not like that, but can't say anything.
a/n: this is my first longer fic so i hope you like it. prom season is coming up so this is kinda self indulgent (as if all my fics aren't). this one is for all my weird girls out there! title from one night in the city by dio btw. :)
warnings: hurt/comfort. angsty for a while but gets fluffy. swearing. a guy being a total asshole to reader. reader wears a dress. reader and eddie both self-described as 'freak.' eddie being a jealous and insecure idiot. both are oblivious as fuck. eddie is REALLY dorky. eddie's backstory and parents--i did not read that book so i don't care if it's canon. idiots in love in the end. pretty cliche but i don't care!
wc: 3.8k
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It’s prom night, and Eddie is sitting alone on his couch. Without you. 
Usually, you guys skip every school event together in favor of watching a shitty movie and smoking half of his stock, but tonight was different. Someone asked you to the prom, and it wasn’t him. 
He’s been acting off for the past two weeks, you noticed. He’s been quiet and snappy, and has been opting to jack up the stereo instead of talk on your drives home. When you asked him what was wrong, he pushed you away. So, you left him alone about it. He made it clear he wanted his space.
He didn’t even want to show up to see you in your dress. You called him last night to see if he would come over–he told you he was sick. He wasn’t fully lying, though. The thought of you going to that stupid school dance with that stupid school boy made him nauseous. It didn’t make sense to him. How did you switch your views on the prom so fast? Months ago, the two of you laughed at the idea of going. Now, you were dressed up all pretty, just like all those popular girls you claimed to hate. He had to watch that sleazy ass car pull into to the trailer park, right up next to his. He’d never admit that he watched you step out of your trailer with that guy, and wished it was him. 
Being completely honest with yourself, your date isn’t even exactly your type. Todd isn’t some freak like you or your friends, but he isn’t a complete asshole either. He asked you in the hallway two weeks ago, and your instinct was to laugh at him. You laughed in his face, but he didn’t budge. He really wanted to take you to the prom, so you told him you’d go. It felt nice to be wanted. It was okay that he wasn’t some rock n’ roll dude like you’re into–it’s not like you’re marrying him. It’s just the prom. 
You and Todd arrive at the Hawkins High gym, hand in sweaty hand. Pushing the anxiety clawing at your throat back down, you give him a smile as you walk to get your photo taken together. The frilly, glittery background reminds you that this place isn’t for you. Again, you push that down. 
The music isn’t really your style, either, but everyone is having so much fun you feel the need to pretend. None of your friends are here, so you’re stuck. Maybe you should have pregamed, you think. Too late now. Todd pulls you onto the dance floor with a fervor you’ve never seen in him. You don’t understand how a person can have so much fun dancing to this shitty music. It’s a lot easier to get through when you pretend that Todd is Eddie, and you’re dancing to mixtapes in his room. You decide not to think about the implications of that right now. When the song ends, you offer to grab punch for the both of you. Maybe it’ll be spiked. 
As you make your way back to Todd, you see him chatting with a few of his friends, and from this distance you can just begin to hear them.
“So, when do I get my twenty bucks from each of you? She’s totally ruining my reputation right now.” He laughs, and your stomach churns.
“Okay, yeah, you proved us wrong. You got her here, you danced, you win.” His friend confirms the fear that’s been looming over you like a dark cloud since Todd first asked you out. 
“You at least better hold onto her long enough to get her home with you tonight, man!” Another friend cackles, and you think you’re going to vomit.
How were you stupid enough to think that he actually liked you?
God, you’re so gullible. 
At least there’s nothing to lose now, you think. Walking over to him, drinks in hand, you dump both of them on his head. They splash on his stupid hair and drench his stupid suit. The music keeps playing. A few people turn to look. The room doesn’t stop for you like some trashy romcom. Everyone just keeps going. 
Storming out to the parking lot, nothing can stop the burning tears from pouring down your face. You slump down against the brick wall, fabric of your dress sticking to the rough sidewalk. The warm spring air feels sticky on your cheeks. You wish you had stayed in with Eddie.
Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. You need to call Eddie. Todd drove you here, so it’s either Eddie or walk, and these heels already hurt enough. Your body feels like dead weight as you drag yourself to the payphone on the wall, punching in the number that’s engraved into your heart. 
“Hey.” You greet, choked up. You’re trying to keep your composure. You know it won’t last long.
“…Hey. Havin’ fun with Mr. Popular?” There’s a bitterness to his tone. Usually he would’ve picked up on the fact that you were crying in a split second, but tonight he was too angry.
“Uhm, not really. Could you, uh,” you sniffle, blowing your thin cover, “pick me up? Like, now?”
You can almost hear his demeanor shift over the phone. A beat of silence passes.
“I’ll be right there.” He’s clearly still upset, because he hangs up the phone without saying goodbye. But his one-sided irritation can’t override the facts: he cares about you so much that he immediately hops in his van and starts speeding to the school, even faster than normal.
You sit back at the edge of the sidewalk, staring into the empty night over the parking lot. God, this is so cliché. Freak gets taken to prom as a joke; left crying outside. You know how pointless it is to cry over this guy. You don’t even care about him, to be honest. But it’s not really him you’re crying over. It’s the extensive disappointment you repeatedly put yourself through after expecting different results—it’s the fact that you haven’t stopped thinking about Eddie all night. 
As you begin to probe deeper into the ethical implications of falling in love with your best friend, said best friend whips into the parking lot, tires skidding as he pulls right up to you and parks. He drives just how he lives his life—with a sense of urgency and passion you don’t see in many. His van stops diagonally in the middle of the pickup lane, and he hops out of the driver’s side door, so worried he can’t be bothered to close it before sprinting to your side. 
For the past six minutes—which is Eddie’s new personal record on getting to the school from Forest Hills—his mind has been racing with every possibility of what could have happened to you tonight. Maybe Todd had another girl, or is just boring, or maybe you got totally Carrie’d and some assholes poured pig’s blood all over you. Not likely, but hey, you never know the determination of Hawkins’ resident assholes. At least if you got Carrie’d you’d look metal as fuck. That would be a good album cover. But that’s not the point. What he’s more worried about is the possibility that that dickwad touched you in any way. Just the thought is enough for him to completely light up—he got pretty close to breaking his steering wheel from how hard he was gripping it. 
“What happened?” He tries to act nonchalant, but that’s something he’s never been good at. 
Your head is held between your knees, looking down into nothingness. He’s staring daggers into the top of your head, and you can almost feel the fact that he wants to say ‘I told you so.’ Reluctantly, your wet eyes tilt upwards, the rest of your head following. 
“Let’s just talk in the van.” He sighs. 
You don’t budge. Your legs feel far too wobbly to imagine getting up right now. He has zero patience at the moment, it seems, as evidenced by the fact that he almost immediately picks you up bridal style and carries you directly to the passenger’s side of his van. He fumbles with the door handle for a second before setting you down gently in the seat. You watch him drag a frustrated hand over his face through the windshield as he walks back to his side, and although you know you didn’t do anything wrong, you’re worried that you did. 
The engine roars into life, turning your seat into a makeshift massage chair. Eddie pulls out of the parking lot as quickly as he pulled in, but with a little more focus. He doesn’t turn his music on, which is a bad sign. 
“It was a bet,” is all you can say, voice soft and defeated, “because, of fucking course it was.” You stare out the window, head tapping against the glass as he hits a pothole straight on.
“I told you that asshole was bad news.” His voice is laced with venom. He’s never been good at controlling his anger—especially when it has to do with you. 
You stay silent. Anything you say right now will probably just piss him off more. 
“Why do you—why do you always do this to yourself? You’re always finding these guys that just want to take you out to say they were able to take you out. They treat you like a fucking trophy.” He scoffs. 
You look at him again, tears still silently falling. Even if you wanted to say something to that, you can’t seem to find your voice. 
“I just don’t get it. You’re, like, totally perfect,” he coughs, gripping the wheel harder, “and these guys you find are total douches. You can do so much better.”
“It’s not like there’s anyone better around here,” you mumble while staring out the window, like some kid talking back to their parent for the first time. 
“That’s not my point!” His yell rings out against the hum of the engine, the dull drumming being the only sound left as he hangs a sharp right turn. “I just don’t understand why you’re so eager to find some guy that you throw your morals out the door.” Eddie’s eyes dart to you for a moment before looking back at the road. 
“I haven’t thrown my morals out the door.” You argue softly. 
“Yes, you have! We always said we’d never suck up to the bullshit they want us to do, that we’d never let them turn us normal, and here you are at the fucking prom.”
“Eddie, it’s prom! It’s not like I fucking stabbed my mother!”
“We’re supposed to be the freaks! We’re Hellfire! We piss people off! That’s our whole thing! You can’t just—fuck—just throw that out!” He groans angrily, pulling into Forest Hills, slowing down as you near the Munson trailer. 
“I’m not throwing it out.” You say, much more firmly. 
“You’re throwing me out!” There it goes, the root of the entire issue. He’s always been worried that you’ll find someone cooler, someone less abrasive, someone who will make you laugh and smile more than he can. Logically, he knows that would never happen, but he can’t help his fear. He throws the van into park and slams the door as he gets out. 
Eddie was eight when he met you. He’d been living with Wayne for a little over a year by the time you moved next door, but he was still struggling. His mother left him first, then his father. He missed his mom a lot, but his dad probably caused him more pain, knowing that he had the choice whether or not to stay, but Eddie wasn’t enough. Uncle Wayne was nicer to him than his father had ever been, but that can’t fix a broken kid. 
Then one day, you showed up in your ratty hand-me-downs, a year and a half younger than him. He thought that girls had cooties, but you were different. You didn’t giggle or try to hide your gaze like the other girls did when they made fun of him to each other. Instead, you walked right up to him and said hi. 
You were new, and you didn’t have the best clothes—he could tell you were probably going through something similar to him—so the kids at school kicked you to the curb. You were just as pretty as the other girls, he thought, if not prettier, as much as a seven-year-old can be. But that didn’t really seem to matter to them. Your lunchbox was plain, theirs had characters. 
When the two of you got to be in junior high at the same time, him in the eighth grade and you in sixth, he thought for sure that you would find new, more popular friends. It was incredibly shocking to him that you’d rather hang out with some dorky boy with an ugly buzz cut who’s two grades ahead of you than the other pretty girls, but he wasn’t going to complain. 
He’s lived with that fear constantly since then, always preparing himself to see you walking into school one day in some pastel sweater instead of your band shirts and battle vest. He knows you won’t, he knows you’re better than that, and he feels so guilty for always expecting the worst, but he can’t help it. 
You hop out of the passenger’s side of the van, holding up the skirt of your dress like some elegant princess. But instead of some grand, ornate staircase, you’re simply walking up the concrete steps of the Munson trailer and following Eddie, who’s storming inside. 
“Eddie.” You sound like a scolding mother, tears having dried up a few minutes ago, and you shut the door behind you. “Why do you think so lowly of me?” Your voice cracks with the weight of the question. 
Eyes widening, Eddie never realized quite how much his thoughts could affect you until right now. “I don’t,” he says softly. “You’re the best person I know.”
“You say that, but you always think I’m gonna leave you for someone else. You’re my best fucking friend. I’m not just gonna cut you off at the drop of a hat.”
“I- I know that,” he stammers out, a little shaken. 
“Do you?”
“Look, I,” he sighs, finally turning around, “I’m just scared. I’m scared that one day you’ll wake up and realize how fucking lame I am, and you won’t want to deal with me and all my bullshit anymore.” 
“The world isn’t against you, Eddie.”
He opens his mouth to quip back something snarky, but he closes it as he thinks about your words again. 
“You hate yourself so much that it’s beginning to rub off on me, because I’m friends with you, and if I like you, you think that surely there’s something wrong with me, too.” 
He’s stunned into silence, your words stabbing him straight through the heart. 
“Can you at least tell me why you were being a dick for the past few weeks?” You switch the subject slightly with a sigh. 
Eddie takes a deep breath. “Because of Troy asking you to prom.”
“Todd.”
“Yeah, whatever. He was my problem.”
“Why were you mad at me for that, though?”
“I knew he was gonna hurt you.”
“You didn’t say anything about that, though. You just said he was an ass once and then pushed me away for two straight weeks.”
Standing in the middle of the dark trailer, Eddie is presented with two options: confess his lifelong, undying love for you, or don’t. He knows that the only good and honest explanation he can give you involves a love confession, and he hates lying to you. But one thing trumps the fact that he hates lying to you, and it’s that Eddie is a complete and utter pussy. 
Eddie is, and always has been, a pussy. In middle school, you acted as his bodyguard—self-appointed, and very passionate—which only made him get bullied worse. You didn’t care. You’d defend him until the end of time. You’d take a hundred tugs to your ponytail or face-plants in the lunchroom so that he wouldn’t have to. You weren’t very loud or talkative in school, until it came to defending Eddie. 
To Eddie, you’re this glowing beacon of light and hope in his life. Everything good comes from you. And if he confesses his feelings to you, and you don’t feel the same, that pillar comes crashing down. 
But…what if? What if you did feel the same? That’s stupid, he thinks. Clearly you don’t, because otherwise you wouldn’t have gone to prom with another guy. And he’s sure you already know about his big, fat crush, and you’re choosing to act like you don’t notice.
“I’m sorry.” You can tell he’s nervous by the way he’s fingering riffs on the side of his thigh. 
“You always get so upset when I talk to guys. It’s not like there can be only one guy in my life.” 
“I know that, it’s just–” This is going to be the worst decision he’s ever made, and he knows it, but he can’t stop himself. “--I’m jealous, okay?”
“Obviously you’re fucking jealous, dickweed.” As you call him your favorite nickname, the intent behind his words reaches you, and your cheeks begin to heat up. “…Wait.”
“Have you seriously not picked up on this yet?” Eddie is genuinely surprised at your reaction. “You—you’re perfect, you know that? You’re the coolest person I’ve ever met, and I don’t know how you do it.” His voice is softer than normal. 
“Yeah, but—like, are you serious?” You ask. 
“I wouldn’t joke about this. I’ve been, like, totally into you forever. I’m surprised Gareth or Jeff didn’t say anything to you.”
“They did a while ago, but I thought they were messing with me.” 
“Okay, I honestly can’t blame you for that.”
A moment passes in silence, and you think about how to respond. 
“You know, I didn’t really want to go with Todd.”
“What? Why did you then?”
“I hoped that you would ask me,” you admit, eyes drifting to your feet, “but it was kind of a stupid thing to expect.”
His jaw goes slack as he hears you speak. 
“I guess that I’ve just kinda had this pipe dream where we’d go to prom together, and I’d be able to dress up all pretty, and we could dance together.” You avoid his gaze, until you hear him scurrying down the hallway. 
He emerges back out with his stereo in one hand and a cassette in the other, scrambling to place it down on the kitchen table and shoving the tape inside. He immediately skips to the song he has in mind. The familiar sound of Tommy Lee’s piano starts from beside you, and before you can figure out what’s happening, he’s offering his hand to you. 
“May I have this dance?” 
A smile grows on your face. “God, you’re such a fucking dork.” Your insult doesn’t come without placing your hand in his. He’s bright red, and he’s never slow danced in his life. 
Mötley Crüe’s Home Sweet Home is interrupted occasionally by the sound of feet stepping on feet and the subsequent ow!’s that follow, as well as the flustered giggling of two idiots in love. 
Eddie pulls you a little closer, his hands firmly planted on your waist. “You look really beautiful tonight,” he murmurs, “sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” 
He feels extremely underdressed compared to you, him in his favorite torn up pair of black jeans and an Exodus muscle tee, and you in your stunningly gorgeous dress, looking prettier than any princess he could ever imagine. 
“Thank you,” you mumble back, flustered, “you don’t look too—fuck!—too bad yourself, you know.” A playful giggle comes with your words, and a huge grin grows on Eddie’s face. 
“Yeah?” He teases, looking right in your eyes. 
“Yeah.”
“Can I kiss you?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” you giggle, staring right back. 
Leaning in, he lets out a nervous laugh before pressing his lips to yours. It’s not some magical explosion of energy that cures all your problems and fixes world hunger; but his lips are soft and warm, and he tastes like weed, gummy worms and a hint of shitty beer, and it feels right. 
You kiss him a few more times before the song ends, all quick and chaste but completely full of love. Pulling you along with him, not wanting to let go, he pauses the tape and the trailer goes quiet again. 
“Was I better at that than Troy?”
“Todd.”
“Point still stands, fuckface.”
Eddie drags you down the hall to his bedroom, the familiar ambiance warming you like a comforting blanket. Jumping onto the bed with a plop, the boy pats beside him invitingly.
“Can I change first?” You ask, ecstasy of the moment wearing off, allowing you to remember how itchy this damn dress is.
“‘Course. Your shirt is clean if you want it.” He calls it your shirt, but it was his at one point. The old Metallica tee used to be his favorite one, too, which meant it got a lot of wear and tear. But then you started wearing it at sleepovers, and it quickly became your shirt. Eddie didn’t like to wash it afterward because it smelled like you. He always felt like a creep for that.
Your hand tries its best to wrap around and pull the impossibly tiny zipper down, but it doesn’t want to budge. Eddie, watching you as intently as ever, quickly notices and jumps up to help you. His fingers move to your waist, soft and nimble, and gently undo the zipper for you. You let your dress fall to the ground, and he looks away, flustered. It’s not like he hasn’t seen you in your underwear before, but now it feels a lot more serious.
Quickly throwing on the hole-filled Metallica shirt and a clean pair of his boxers, both of you hop back into his bed. You’ve shared plenty of nights here before, but once again, now it feels different. You sense that it will become a common theme for your life in the near future. His hands snake back around your waist and pull you next to him, and you allow your head to rest against his chest.
“So… does this mean you’re, like, my girlfriend now, or what?” A goofy smirk is plastered across his face as he asks. 
You try to playfully shove him off of you, to no avail. “Are you seriously fucking asking me that?” You’re trying so hard to act angry, but your giggles give you away.
“Yes, yes it does.” You seal it with a kiss. Then one on his cheek, and the other, and his forehead, and the tip of his nose.
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reblogs and notes always appreciated! | requests are open!
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amasterpieceofmadness · 4 months
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museum – bucky b.
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parings Bucky Barnes x reader
summary Bucky and you visit the museum as it won’t stop raining. As you are looking through the exhibition you stumble across an old picture of him and Steve…
warnings established relationship, mentions of Bucky’s past, fluff
word count 1k
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“I want to go to the history exhibition first” You announce as you take a close look at the museum plan.
Bucky just nods, giving you a soft smile “Sure, whatever you want, doll”
It’s been raining for 3 days and it’s getting really boring in the compound with not much to do there. So, Bucky had the idea to spend a day at the museum. And this is where you two are right now. You walk through the halls together, looking around curiously. The exhibition is impressive and Bucky’s hand rests at the small of your back as you look through the displayed items together.
As you enter the next room you find yourselves in an exhibition of World War 2. You take a look at Bucky, who is already looking around a bit stunned and speechless. “We can skip it, if you want” You suggest but Bucky quickly shakes his head.
“No, it’s fine. Don’t worry, doll” he shoots you one of his handsome smiles and you return it as you both start to roam through the exhibit.
You are looking through some old medals and pictures displayed. As you are searching for Bucky you can find him in front of a showcase, so, you step closer to get a better look. “Is that…?”
“Yes,” Bucky nods “it is.” You are looking at the old uniform of none other than Captain America. It’s pretty different from the tactical suit Steve wears nowadays on missions. The one from back then is more like a suit for theatre, which is not surprising considering what he had to do at that time. The suit looks worn out a bit, the red and white stripes still bright though.
This part of the exhibition shows the life of Steve Rogers back than as a national hero. As you continue to admire the uniform Bucky looks around. He comes to a stop in front of a wall full of old letters and pictures. You come closer too and notice his changed expression. He looks deep in thought, a bit nostalgic and wistful even. He is looking at an old picture of young Steve right before going to war. Next to him is a young man with short dark hair, wearing the same military uniform as Steve.
“Is that… you?” You ask in utter disbelief. Bucky doesn’t respond, only gives you a short nod. He can’t tear his eyes away from this picture. Under it is a short description, quoting “Steven Rogers and his friend James Barnes, one day before departure, 1943. It is the last picture of James Barnes before his death 3 days later”. To say you are shocked is an understatement. Of course, for the world this soldier was just a number, lucky enough to be friends with Americas national hero, who died 70 years ago.
But he is still here, right next to you. You cannot believe that this is a picture of young Bucky. He must be around 26 years old on it. And even though you can see in his eyes that he has been through a lot since then, he still has the same cute smile. A wave of emotions rushes over you as you continue to look at this picture and the description. Their life was so differently, and yet, somehow they both ended up in a reality that shouldn’t exist for the both of them. And you don’t even want to imagine what they had to endure over all this time.
Your breathing starts to get shaky and tears dwell in your eyes. You then feel a hand on your shoulder, comforting you. It’s Bucky. He is no longer looking at the picture, his eyes are focused solely on you. There’s concern in his face. “What’s wrong, doll?”
You simply shake my head, taking a deep breath. You shouldn’t be the one who needs comfort right now. Instead, you should be the one who comforts him, as this is for sure not easy for Bucky. “Nothing” You give him a forced smile.
Bucky tilts his head, not believing you. “Don’t dwell on the past. I’m still here” He whispers the last part and pulls you into a soft hug. Your arms wrap around him immediately and you burry your head into the crook of his neck. “I’m still here…” He repeats his words, talking more to himself than to you, which shows just how much he is dwelling on the past right now, even though he tells you not to.
Before you pull apart Bucky presses a soft kiss to your forehead and looks into your eyes, still concerned. “Everything okay, doll?”
You nod and peck his lips with yours quickly. “Yes, how about you?”
His smile grows a bit. “Of course. If all those things didn’t happen, I wouldn’t be here with you now”
His words make you smile as well, and he takes your hand softly in his before you walk out of the exhibition together, taking one last look at the picture. You spend the whole evening sitting on the couch together in the compound, Bucky talking about his life before war, before Hydra, and you listen closely to every single detail. And even though not all memories are good ones, his infamous smirk returns to his lips every now and then.
A/N Here is my complete masterlist with all the ff, imagines, oneshots, smut and whatever. Check it out and leave a like :)
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railingsofsorrow · 1 year
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summary: based on this scene or in which you can't deny going to a film festival with the resident genius.
pairing: s.r x gn!reader
w.c: 615.
warnings/content: none just fluff.
navi
masterpost
ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
“I'm going to a Korean film festival in Georgetown.” Spencer quipped as they finished off the paperwork from the day.
You looked up from your phone as soon as he let out those words. If there's something that irked you to no end was when people interrupted Spencer Reid during his ramblings. Personally? You could hear it all day. Wasn't a problem. But something that pissed you off was when nobody acted excited for the plans he shared with everyone. “A lot of the entries probably aren't subtitled yet. But I can do a simultaneous whisper translation while we watch.” His lips formed that tight-lipped smile known to be his signature. He wasn't expecting anybody to say yes. He's been used to the team's declines to his invitations; it was okay, they didn't share the same interests outside work.
“I'd love to go,” You said more quick than you planned, sticking your phone inside your purse. “It is tonight?”
Penelope and Derek shared a compliance glance that wasn't unnoticed by Aaron, who started dispersing them all to leave to get some rest for the night. Emily could dare say he was smiling a bit as Spencer shared the details of the event with you. JJ smirked behind Spencer and you, mouthing a you seeing this? to Emily, who tried to steal a stealth glance at them as they walked to the elevator before everyone else.
“Would you really?” Spencer halted in your way to the parking lot. “You didn't just say that out of politeness? Cause if you did, then it's fine, we don't have to—”
Out of politeness? That would be the most precious time you'd spend in your boring nightlife.
You might not understand Korean at all, but you certainly didn't mind him whispering in your ear the whole night.
“I'd love to spent time with you. And no, I wasn't just being polite.” You cracked an awkward smile when the realization that you talk too much came. “I mean, I've heard about this festival, I just never— You mentioned it and I—” You groaned, shifting in your feet. “I'm sorry, if you don't want me to go—”
“What? No!” Spencer takes a few steps towards you with widened eyes. “I don't— That's not what I meant. I'd very much like for you to come with me. I just don't want you to feel pressured to do it because... no one else wanted to come.”
“Oh.” You blink up at him, nodding shortly. Embarrassment dying down but the blush in your cheeks was still present given his proximity. “Okay. It is alright if I accompany you then?”
“More than alright.” He let it slip, causing your smile to widen. He cleaned his throat, shifting in his feet as he focused his full attention on his shoes. “So,” He mustered the courage to look up and meet your eyes. They have something like a fond gaze going on, he could be wrong, it was dark and you were in the middle of the parking lot, not much to illuminate your features. “Shall we?”
You agree with a happy skip to your step, walking by his side. You requested for him to tell you a little bit about the Korean culture and what you should be prepared to see there. His rambling making you feel a warmth in your chest.
“You don't mind translating it to me, do you?” You said after a moment of silence between you both, casting him a timid quirk of lips. “I haven't the faintest idea about the language, although it's interesting.”
Spencer beamed at you, you could see a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. “No, no, I don't mind.”
ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
A/N: take ME to a korean filme festival Spencer, i dare you. (I will kiss you)
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beautifulfuckup99 · 6 months
Note
Oc and JK fighting so he is giving her the silent treatment till she breaks off crying thinking he will break up with her 🥲
Him proving her wrong later😍smuttyyyyyy
Awe... Okay, okay!
Title: Gotta Trust Us.
Warning(s): Pouty!Jungkook, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort S!x
Author's Note: Enjoy!
*******************************************
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"How could you not tell me?" Jungkook whispers as he sits on the couch. You felt exhausted. This fight had been going all night since you got back from the damn company dinner. From the walk to the parking lot, to the ride home, to right now that you two stepped into the loft apartment. You knew you should've skipped the damn dinner...
"Because..." You shift a bit, not having a clear-cut reason why you kept Jungkook in the dark...
"Because why? How could you do this to me, Y/N? I had to find out about you leaving from all your co-workers? I was the only dummy there who was clueless!" He states.
"I never said I was leaving!" You defend fast.
"Really? Your boss sure thinks so." He states. "Those emails sure say so. That damn letter your boss handed you at dinner tonight confirming you got an interview for the Thailand branch sure as hell shows you're leaving." Jungkook says as he stands up now.
"Nothing is set in stone! I... I was just considering it. Why would I tell you something I hadn't even decided on yet?!" You try, getting fed up with this already. It's like you two were going in circles...
"Because I'm your boyfriend! For four years we've been a team. You and me. You can't just make these damn decisions without me!" He says.
"Bullshit, Jungkook! This is my career! This is my cooperate ladder I'm trying to climb and it has fuck all to do with you!" You say without thinking. Jungkook stares at you and you freeze up, seeing the hurt clear in his eyes.
"I-I just meant-" He cuts you off.
"No. It's you're life. Why should I have a say..." He mutters before heading to the bedroom and coming back with a blanket and pillow.
"You're... Kicking me out of the room now?" You ask in shock.
"No. I'd never do that." He mutters before setting up the couch for himself. You roll your eyes.
"Baby, stop this. Think of your back." You try as he lays down on his side so his back is to you. You open your mouth but groan softly instead.
"You know what? Fine. Goodnight, Jungkook." You huff and walk off towards the room.
This would be over in a day...
You just had to sleep it off.
**********ONE WEEK LATER**********
"Hey, baby. I made dinner." You try the second your boyfriend walks into the apartment. He doesn't even glance your way, walking past the kitchen and to the gym. You sigh at his attitude, annoyed by it already.
"Damn. That whole apartment turned cold." Your best friend says with a shiver to prove her point. You look over at the laptop you had open to Skype so you could talk to her about this entire situation.
"I fucked up. I really fucked up, Tess..." You sigh as you sit back down. You should've told Jungkook your news before it happened, but... It all happened so fast...
"How's work been?" She asks and you roll your eyes.
"Just as good as home life?" She tries and jokes and when you give her a look, she instantly stops. "Sorry, Y/N..." She says gently.
"My boss is pushing me to go to Thailand for that damn interview. I-It's a higher position, you know? With more money, an actual office of my own, better vacation time. I just... I don't wanna leave until I have Jungkook on board, and he hasn't talked to me in a week!" You rant on as your friend just nods along, listening casually.
"I just... I don't want this relationship to end..." You whisper, feeling your heart ache with fear.
"Whoa, whoa! Who said that?" Tess asks in shock, and you look down. "Come on, don't act like that. You two are practically married! You've been going strong for so long! It's just a bump in the road." She assures fast, but you shake your head.
"This feels different. I... He's really mad at me. God, this place feels like my childhood home." You scoff bitterly as you try and blink away some tears. You never wanted the relationship your parents had. You always thought Jungkook would show you the right way to love. And he has. But this? This little 'bump in the road'? You've seen it before with your parents. And you knew how it ended.
"You're spiraling. Y/N, you guys are not like your parents." Tess tries as your bottom lip quivers slightly.
Tess watches with a deep frown before sitting up more. "Why don't you get out of there for a bit. Hm? Come visit me. Distance might help." She tries and you wave a hand at the thought.
"That's running away. I don't do that. I... I can't do that." You state. You couldn't be like your father, running off the second things got tough. You had warned Jungkook when you first got together; you love hard. You stay, you fight, you're loyal. But here he was, shutting you out.
"Think about it, Y/N. You don't have to deal with a grown man's tantrum." She says before you two end the call. You breathe deeply and shake it off.
**********LATER THAT NIGHT**********
You lay in bed, prepping yourself to lay down when you first hear it. A clash of thunder rumbles the loft, startling you in the process.
You gasp loudly and feel every fiber in your being freeze up. "Fuck." You breathe out and shake your head as you try and settle yourself. You look towards the bedroom, waiting to see Jungkook come rushing in like he always did during a thunderstorm. He knew your fear of them. He knew to always drop whatever he was doing to rush in and hold you. But... You hear nothing but the heavy rain.
No footsteps rushing to the bedroom door. No call from him asking if you were okay. Nothing. You feel your heart drop to your stomach. He really was mad.
Was it actually over?
*********************************************
The next day you stand in front of your suitcase on the bed. Were you really doing this? Were you really leaving? You sigh deeply and decide to just get it over with.
You'd be staying with Tess for a bit while you prepped for your interview in Thailand. As you're zipping up your suitcase, you hear the front door open and curse softly to yourself. You thought you'd have more time before Jungkook came home. He should've been distracted at the dog park with Bam all day.
"Whatever." You try and whisper to yourself. He wouldn't care...
Bam comes running in like he usually does after being away all day. He was always so ready to greet you. You pat his head, a frown on your face. You'd miss him.
As you're walking to the hallway, you freeze in your steps when your eyes meet Jungkook since he was in the middle of walking to the gym.
He notices the suitcase in your hand, and you watch his eyebrows raise. "What... What's this?" He asks and you want to laugh. Now he talks?!
"I'm leaving." You whisper and he blinks a bit in shock.
"Y/N. Y-You... You can't be serious..." He tries.
"Deathly." You state. "I-I can't be stuck in a house with a man who... Who wants nothing to do with me. You don't love me anymore, and I... I'm jumping ship before we both drown. I'm tired of going to bed alone." You say as you try to move past him.
"Jumping ship? What? Y/N, stop. I... Of cruse I love you!" He says as he grabs your arm as you shrug him off.
"No! You don't! You've been... Ignoring me all week! I... You wanna break up, I know you do." You say, eyes willing up as Jungkook stares at you in disbelief.
“Y/N. Don’t… Don’t leave me.” Jungkook tries as you stare at him, eyes hard. You couldn’t be here right now.
“You’ve been ignoring me just fine this whole week. Me being gone shouldn’t change much.” You mutter as you yank your hand away and walk off.
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"Cheer up, Y/N. Things could be worse." Tess tries as you two lay side by side in her guest bedroom. You can only manage a soft 'mm' noise in response. You didn't trust your voice right now. And your eyes were distracted thanks to the window by your bed, watching the rain pour down. Damn this two-day storm...
You hadn't broken down yet, which you assumed was thanks to your brain not fully grasping the fact that you'd have to move on in life without your 'golden retriever in black cat makeup' boyfriend by your side. You're pulled out of your thoughts by a frantic knock on the front door.
"Who is-" Tess quickly cuts you off.
"I'll get it!" She smiles widely and rushes off. You sit up in confusion as your friend dashes out of the room. What the hell?
You hear the door open and Jungkook's voice carries through the modest apartment. "She's here?" He asks to confirm, and you roll your eyes. Of course, Tess would give you up.
You get up from the bed to try and shut the bedroom door, but Jungkook is faster. His hands press firm on the door, stopping it from closing. You two meet eyes for a moment, and it softens you for a second. A second that Jungkook takes advantage of by pushing on the door.
He's soaked. Drenched to the bone and his bottom lip is trembling slightly. No doubt he's cold. And yet he stands in front of you, shoulders squared.
"Y/N, come home." He tries, tone shaky towards the end.
"No. Did you run here? Why are you wet?" You ask, wrapping your arms around yourself as you eye him up and down.
"Traffic." He says and you pause. Did he get out of his car and run here in the pouring rain?! No! That's ridiculous...
"Jungkook, it's late. I want-" He cuts you off as he makes quick work of his jacket.
"What are you doing?" You sigh softly as you can't help but stare at his toned arms as he winces while taking off the wet black t-shirt that clung to his body.
"Jungkook!" You try hissing to stay strong, but that's when you notice a white bandage wrapped around his left side waist, a little under his chest.
"W-What..." He grabs your hand to pull you closer. You're too confused and concerned to stop him. He pulls your hand to the bandage.
"Take it off." He whispers. You look up at him and then slowly peel the bandage off. You gasp softly as you see the brand-new tattoo on his skin. As you read the words, it dawns on you. This wasn't just any tattoo. This was from your first date.
You and Jungkook had been set up on a blind date, and when you got to the bar and grill, you two sat in the booth not really knowing how to keep the conversation flowing. You were both so shy. At a certain point, Jungkook started writing on a napkin. You two went through all the napkins on the table and actually had to ask sheepishly for more at a certain point.
He'd gotten your last napkin conversation tattooed on him...
'This place is about to close...' He had written and passed it to you. It had made you blush when the realization dawned on you. You'd been here for hours...
'Guess so. Is this you saying goodbye?' You had written back...
'Nope. How long do you think we can keep this date going?' He wrote.
'Jeon Jungkook. Are you hinting at a night cap?' You wrote. You can remember this soft chuckle he'd let out as his tongue messed with his lip ring for a bit while he decided on how to respond.
'What if this date just never ended? How long could we keep it going?' He wrote.
'A week.' You wrote back and stared at him head on. He had frowned a bit at your pessimistic answer, but still responded.
'I think we could go for years...'
'Smooth. You're dangerous with words.'
'I'm also right.'
'Confident. And if you're wrong?'
'Is this turning into a bet? You know I'm competitive...'
'Bring it.'
You had sealed it with your kiss mark which had also been tattooed on him. You stare at the tattoo. "T-Th... That's permanent." You try quietly, in awe.
"Good. You're on me forever." He says as he puts your hand on his chest. You look into his eyes. "I was so stupid. I was childish. I just... It hurt me. You saying I had nothing to do with your job... It's true, but... Y/N, I see us as a team. I-I should've been told about this job opportunity." He says and you sigh softly, shoulders slouching.
"I'm sorry. I was just... I wanted to think it through before I bothered you with it-" He cuts you off.
"It's never a bother." He says gently. "I love you, Y/N. And I'll love you here, and I'll love you in Thailand, and I'd love you on the moon and back, because... I meant what I said that night. We can go for years. And-" You cut him off, grabbing his chin to pull his head down to meet your lips, kissing him deeply.
He kisses you passionately, hands gripping your waist as the kiss turns hungry extremely fast...
It makes you moan. Finally being able to get this kind of attention...
Your hands go to his wet hair as he backs you up against the bedroom door, your hands careful as they move down his body to get to his belt.
"Wait. I wanna... Apologize." Jungkook pants before kneeling in front of you. You blush hard, but let him yank your sweatpants down, eager for more.
With your pants tossed somewhere in the room and your right leg over his shoulder, Jungkook gets to work. He looks up at you as he tenderly brushes his lips against your pantie covered pussy. You hum as your eyes shut, hand resting on top of his head as he pulls your underwear to the side and kisses your clit.
His skin was so cold from the rain, but it felt so good to feel his lip ring against your clit...
He opens his mouth and starts tongue flicking your clit slowly, just to feel it twitch against his tongue. He loved that feeling and it never took long for you to give that to him...
You feel his tongue begin to move all around your clit and it takes you a moment to realize what he's doing...
'I'
'A'
'M'
I A M... I AM?
'S'
'O'
'R'
S O R?
'R'
'Y'
You groan as your eyes roll back, grinding against his tongue as he repeated spells out 'I AM SORRY' against your clit over and over again, not letting up even when you start practically humping his face...
"I-I'm gonna... Oh god!" You cry out softly as you fall apart as Jungkook holds you up against the door to help you ride out your orgasm...
As you shiver while coming down from your high, you feel Jungkook kiss up your body. "Good girl..." He pants.
He picks you up and you gasp at the suddenness...
"Slide down on my cock, baby. It's missed you..." He whispers against your lips as you moan in agreement, raising your hips as much as you can to nudge his tip.
"S-Stay quiet. Tess-" Jungkook cuts you off.
"She can cover her ears. Don't fucking keep quiet. I wanna hear you say my name..." He whispers as he slides into you fully, which makes you melt.
He kisses along your neck hungrily as he starts fucking you against the bedroom door, making you give in to his request.
"Jung... Jungkook..." You whine softly, move closer to pant and gasp in his ear to drive him wild. He groans and bites down on your pulse point, making you cry out, nails digging into his arms and legs tightening around his waist.
"Deeper!" You manage to grunt out through clenched teeth as he wraps a hand in your hair to yank your hair like you like.
He carries you right to the bed and throws you on it, making you giggle as you try to catch your breath.
"Ass up." He whispers and you smile at him.
"Make me..." You whisper. It makes him chuckle as he rubs his face, amused.
"Feeling playful? Hm, baby?" He whispers before he grabs you and puts you right in that position. It makes you giggle bashfully. He moves behind you and you feel him lean over you fully, nuzzling into your ear.
"You forgive me, baby? Hm?" He whispers as he teases your entrance, making you shiver in anticipation.
"Say it, baby..." He whispers and you turn your head to catch his eye.
"Fuck, yes..." You whisper, catching his lips in a deep kiss that's cut short when he thrusts right back into you. You bite down on the sheets as he focuses on fucking you faster and deeper like you'd begged for.
It doesn't take much to build you up again, especially sing his fingers were working over your clit firmly as he pounded you.
"I-I... Yes!" You cry out as he kisses along your face while deep inside of you.
"That's it, baby. You can do it. Cum again..." He whispers in your ear and makes you look at him as your eyes struggle to stay open.
"I love you. I love you..." You whine, so settled in this moment as he works you up. You orgasm hits you hard and Jungkook moans as you squeeze his cock while cumming.
You pull off of his cock fast and turn to suck it clean of your juices, looking up at him as his thick member fills your mouth.
"Oh, baby. Fuck yes..." He pants, head going back and eyes shutting in pleasure as he holds your hair lazily. "Y/N. I-I'm gonna cum. Oh baby, you're fucking perfect..." He praises as you go faster, never using your hands because you knew he got more excited when you worked him with your throat...
"S-Stay... Stay like that, baby. God, I love you..." He groans as he starts to use your mouth as you moan loudly around him so he can feel the vibrations. "Fuck!" He moans as he cums in your mouth, holding your head still so you take every drop.
You moan as you suck hard, wanting every drop. He pulls out and grabs your chin. "Let me see you swallow." He pants, looking at you with dark eyes full of need. You smile as you open your mouth to show him the cum on your tongue before you swallow. He groans.
"Fuck. You were so right, I was wrong. I'm always in the wrong. Don't ever leave me..." He whispers as you blush hard at swat at his chest playfully.
"Dummy..." You mutter before leaning up and kissing him.
"Let me hold you. I can never make up for leaving you to face that thunderstorm alone yesterday... But I can be here now. And for the rest of our lives." Jungkook whispers. You hum.
"Smooth. You're dangerous with your words..." You whisper and he smiles softly, resting his forehead against yours.
"I'm also right." He says and you look at him, the fear clear in your eyes.
"And if you're wrong?" You ask gently. He takes a moment to really look at you, hands holding your face.
"You've gotta trust... That I'd never let you slip away." He says back and you carefully wrap your arms around him, head on his chest as you shut your eyes and breathe deeply.
You'd hold him to that...
****************************************
Hope you liked! Also, I'm thinking about starting up a new series. Tell me what you guys think...
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simpforrooster · 9 months
Text
falling for a girl in purple & gold.
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Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x F!Reader
summary: your brother convinces you to join him at his tailgate. you meet a gorgeous blonde, who happens to root for the opposing football team.
t/w: lots of mention of alcohol. she/her pronouns. cursing. instalovey.
a/n: i’ve been dying to write something like this. this fic is def based off megan maroney’s ‘tennessee orange’ and conner smith’s ‘orange & white.’ i left readers school pretty ambiguous until the verrrrrry end. i’m an lsu girlie 💜💛 so i needed a little self-service.
Stepping into the tailgate tent, nostalgia fills your body. You are transported immediately back to your time in college. Cheering on your alma mater with your sorority sisters. Hooking up with those random frat guys who definitely showed you a good time. You’d have to remember to thank your brother for making you come.
“Sis!” Speak of the devil. Your brother envelops you into a huge bear hug, as if he didn’t see you one week prior at your family’s standing dinner date. You return his hug.
“I am so glad you made it!”
Your brother began introducing you to several of his friends who were taking up space in the tailgate tent. If he doesn’t know them from his fraternity days, then he knows them from the Navy.
“Two more guys are planning to show,” your brother says. “Guys from my time in Miramar.” You understand this to mean from his time at TOPGUN.
Lucky for you, you’ve been schooled in all things naval aviation thanks to the burly guy you call a brother. There was no way he was going to have a sister have zero knowledge about the Navy.
His words, not yours.
Leaving you to ponder, your brother begins mixing drinks. He hands you his “special” after a few minutes. His special being vodka, with a tiny splash of sprite and cranberry juice.
You take the drink from him, raising your brows.
“It’s the first tailgate of the year, sis. Go big or go home.”
You’d much rather go home than consume a ton of alcohol in this heat.
“Well if it ain’t Bozo!” you hear a deep voice call, with a sliiiiight country accent.
“Hey guys!” your brother calls with the enthusiasm of a kid who just unwrapped a PS5 from under the tree. “I’m glad y’all made it.”
You turn and take in the source of that accent, and almost spill your drink. Your brother never told you he was friends with Adonis.
His blonde hair fans out at his neck, beneath a nice Stetson, like he’s skipped a few haircuts. A pair of jeans hug his hips, and across his chest, the school colors of the enemy.
University of Texas. You were sure that burnt orange wouldn’t look good on anyone, but this man is proving that notion wrong. Your eyes lock with his, and he makes sure you see his eyes trail down your body.
When those green eyes meet yours, he drops his right eye in a slow wink.
“Bozo, I didn’t know you colluded with the enemy,” you say to your brother, nodding toward the handsome blonde.
“Ah, well,” Bozo starts, rubbing his hand behind his neck, “not everyone is perfect.”
“What do they call you?” you ask the blonde, not being able to take not knowing his name any longer.
“Hangman.” He fixes you with a gorgeous smirk, and tips that cowboy hat.
“Hangman?” you question, cocking an eye brow.
Those eyes peer into yours. “Yes ma’am.” The way he says those two words has you thinking of all the instances he could say them in.
“What do they call you when you’re not flying a plane?”
“Jake. And your name, pretty lady?”
“Y/n.” You stick a hand out toward him. Jake reaches forward, taking your hand lightly into yours. The two of you stand there, shaking hands for what feels like an eternity. Neither one of you wanting to break the contact.
“Fuck, Bozo. You never mentioned how beautiful your sister is,” Jake says to your brother, but never taking his eyes off you.
“Because you’re a fucking playboy, Bagman,” he says.
“Funny,” Jake comments.
And you’d gladly let him.
“A playboy, huh?” You quip.
Jake shrugs a shoulder. “Maybe I just haven’t met the right lady yet.”
The way he peers into your eyes has you sipping your mixed drink in order to hold some of your sanity. This man has the potential to ruin you.
And you’d gladly welcome it.
Grabbing his hand, you pull him toward the beer pong table. “Be my partner.” You fix him with one of your award winning smiles.
“Anything for you, darlin’,” he drawls. Gah, that accent is gonna be the death of you. The two of you fall into a steady rhythm, beating your brother and another aviator, Rooster, effortlessly.
Jake holds up his hand for a high five. When your hand meets his, his fingers lace between yours. He pulls you into him. You can’t be sure if the vodka is making you lightheaded, or the way your body feels pressed against his.
“I’m having the time of my life with you, sweet thing,” he says into your ear. You giggle into his chest. You actually giggle. You’ve never giggled in your life.
“What would you say if I needed to kiss you?” Jake asks against your temple. Spying your brother working the makeshift bar, you grab Jake’s hand. You lead Jake down an alley situated between two class buildings.
“I’d say, kiss me, Hangman,” you say, grabbing his ugly, orange jersey to pull him toward you. One of his hands braces his weight against the wall, just outside your shoulder. He has you completely caged in, that strong body hovering over yours. Jake reaches up to pull his hat from his head. He casually holds the hat up, blocking anyone from seeing the two of you.
Between Jake’s kisses and your brother’s mixed drink, you’re feeling all kinds of good. Not wanting any of it to stop, you grip his jersey tighter, pulling him as close as you can get him.
A low groan escapes his mouth, and the fact that he’s seemingly affected by you the same way you are by him has you reeling.
“A gentleman would at least take you out first before kissing you like this,” he murmurs.
“Oh yeah?” you question, not really letting his words soak in.
“Mhmm. Too bad I am not feeling too gentlemanly, right now.” Jake deepens the kiss, and your hands leave his jersey and thread through his hair.
“Good,” you breathe.
Your watch buzzes, pulling you from Jake’s tantalizing kisses. Taking a peek, your brother’s name appears across it.
Where the fuck are you? We have to go into the stadium.
Jake pulls his phone from his back pocket. “Bozo,” he murmurs.
“Where are your seats?” You ask, still breathless from his kissing.
“Next to you,” he says, placing once more kiss to your lips. Pulling you from the wall, he plops his hat onto your head.
“Fuck, my dads going to be so pissed I’m falling for a girl in purple & gold,” Jake says shaking his head. “Lead the way, darlin’.”
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gracieheartspedro · 7 months
Text
Beggin' for Thread
part 2 of Trash Talk
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pairing: fem!reader x abby anderson (post outbreak, set before the events of tlou2)
description: being stuck with abby and him-who-should-not-be-named on a mission is already a big problem. especially when you're not on your a-game. abby ends up saving your ass. but hey, it may not all be in vain. shit starts to get a bit better.
word count: 9.2k (HAHAHA I got wild with this one.)
warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, no use of y/n, no real descriptions of reader, nsfw, smut, wlw, some slight bullying, this part has a lot of murder in it (so if you're not good with violence, pls skip out), use of guns, graphic description of dead bodies, ow*n is in a lot of this (sorry), dom!abby, abby giving reader a bed bath, fingering, eating out, use of a strap on, dirty talk, name calling. someone lowkey walking in on sexy time? if I missed anything, please let me know.
author's note: the wait is over! the love on part 1 blows me away. I love you guys so fucking much. you each make my heart so happy. thank you thank you thank you!!
“Hey, Heartless. Glad you could join us today.”
His voice makes your skin crawl. You rub your eyes, trying to clear the haze out of your vision. You’re overly exhausted. After Abby left, you never found sleep. You could not get her out of your mind. She left you disoriented. 
“Hey, Owen,” You mutter, his name tastes disgusting in your mouth. He was gross to look at, let alone talk to. You decide to occupy your mind by checking over the guns you were just dispensed while you sit and wait for the jeep you would be loaded into gets gassed up. 
“Heard you and Abby got into it.”
You heart stops. He can’t know?
You hold your composure, not even flinching at the question. If he did know, you’re just going to deny it and tell him to fuck off. 
“What are you talking about?” You play dumb, not ever looking up to meet Owen’s gaze above you. 
“Manny told me you were going in on her yesterday,” He sounds a bit unnerved when he says it. You stop checking over your gun, finally meeting his eyes. Before you can respond, you cock the gun before flicking the safety on. 
“It’s not my fault she can’t pull her fuckin’ punches. We could’ve easily been picked off one by one since she didn’t want to unload her gun at some Scars.”
You don’t even realize how bitter you sound until it all comes out like word vomit. You weren’t even that angry about that, you knew you could handle it all alone. It was the fact that she left you hanging last night and became cold so quick. 
Owen chuckles, “Take it easy, dude. I’m just wonderin’ why you think it’s okay to talk to her like that.”
He’s sizing you up. Typical of a man like Owen. 
You stand up, knowing damn well it was the wrong day for him to do some shit like this to you. 
You sling your rifle over your shoulder, “I’m not in the mood to answer to some fuck ass like you. And I’m also sure your new nurse girlfriend wouldn’t like to hear that her boyfriend is trying to stick up for his ex.”
“Don’t bring Mel into this,” He begins, his stance shifting, “You don’t get to talk about her.”
“And you don’t get to weasel your way into my business because you’re some entitled idiot who thinks every woman owes you something,” You begin to side step past him, “For all our sake, keep your mouth shut and leave the leading to the girls.”
You don’t listen to the rest of the shit he spouts at you. You walk towards Manny, who’s standing next to another guy, you think his name is Alex. You give him a slight nod of acknowledgment. 
“Hey there, cariño,” Manny says a smile creeping across his face, “Sleep well?”
Your skin crawls.
“Like a baby,” You mumble, your eyes feeling heavy as you respond, “Who are we waiting for?”
“Abby and Leah will be here any minute,” Alex explains as he finishes filling the jeep with fuel, “Think they went to grab some breakfast.”
Hearing Abby’s name next to another girl's name made your throat tighten. You can’t be jealous. She’s not yours.
Just as you’re about to say something about being late to your checkpoint, Manny's eyes avert up to the door leading into the stadium. Abby and Leah appear, both holding a plethora of breakfast burritos. Your stomach had been upset all morning because of anxiety, so the idea of food makes you want to hurl. You observe Abby and Leah hand each foiled wrapped tortilla to everyone, making jokes about being late. 
Abby’s eyes lock onto yours as soon as her head turns in your direction. She blinks before avoiding your gaze for Manny’s.
“Nice for you guys to join us,” Alex jokes as Leah walks towards him with an extended hand, burrito in tow. 
You scoff, “Yeah, we should’ve left 20 minutes ago.”
Abby’s face drops from a soft smile to a deadly glare. She gives Manny a burrito, her hands holding two remaining. 
One was meant for you. 
“Yeah? Well you should’ve gotten a head start by yourself. Cleared the way for everyone.”
Her sharpness filled you with rage. She extends some foil towards you. Before you can even say anything, your instincts are to swat her arm away. The burrito flies out of her hand, splattering across the concrete floor. 
“What the fuck,” She yells, her eyes trained on your deadpan expression. You feel a hand on your shoulder, and you glance back to a stern looking Manny. He doesn’t want a repeat of yesterday. 
You look back at Abby’s furrowed eyebrows, her scrunched face causing sharp pains to go across your chest. 
“I don’t like burritos.”
She shakes her head, “So you launch it out of my fuckin’ hands when someone else could’ve eaten it?!”
You don’t say anything, just turn and begin your climb up onto the jeep. You slip onto the spot you found yourself in yesterday, closest to the passenger side. 
You watch everyone hesitantly get in behind you. 
-
“Are you okay taking the top floors with Owen and Abby? Or do you want to come with me and Leah?”
Manny is adjusting his rifle on his shoulder. You all arrived to the skyscraper you heard Scars were trying to take over to get some higher ground on a popular WLF route. Your goal is to take out every Scar there and prepare it for WLF occupation. 
Manny wanted to make sure you would not act up for Abby and Owen. He didn’t want to deal with the fallout if there was another incident involving you. He really liked you, he didn’t want to see you getting chewed out or possibly killed. You appreciated him looking out for you. 
“That’s fine,” you settle your hands confidently on your gun, “I will be on my best behavior, Manny. Promise.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
You stay back from the rest of the group as you all walk quietly through the destroyed streets of Seattle. Luckily this area wasn’t consistently flooded, so you didn’t have to wade through any filthy water today. 
Abby walks in front of you next to Leah and Owen. You stare at her backside, trying not to make yourself too obvious. You need to cut it out, you need to focus. 
When you all finally make it to the building, you huddle in with the group to remind each person where they are going. You and Manny hashed it out already so you want to be positive you knew where everyone would be if all hell broke loose. 
Owen cringes when he hears that you’d be joining him and Abby. 
You all split up to your designated places. You let Owen lead not wanting to argue when Scars could be on any corner. He starts towards a staircase, his gun trained forward. You follow him before Abby does, which means she gets to be behind you now. You three head up each staircase, your guns resting on your shoulders. You are as quiet as mice, your footfalls silent. 
Owen stops, turning back to you and Abby. 
“I hear them,” He whispers, pointing up the flight you have yet to go up. You nod, gesturing him to press forward. He continues on. This is when your adrenaline turns to numbness. You forget the emotions you had before you were in this staircase, they are now replaced with pure instinct. 
Owen creeps open the door and that’s when you hear it. 
A whistle from behind you. 
You snap back, your finger and eyes reacting at the same time. A single Scar with their bow trained right on Abby. With one squeeze, they are on the ground bleeding and Abby jumps forward towards your body. She wraps her arms around your waist, her gun aimed towards the door Owen just opened. More whistling. 
“Go!”
You’re not even focused on the fact that Abby has her hands on you, pulling your attention back to the open room of about 10 Scars. Owen is lighting up the room, but firing aimlessly. You hunch down, taking cover behind the door frame. Abby is beside you, tightly gripping onto her gun. You glance over at her. She’s not panicked, she’s not rattled. She’s angry. 
You smirk at her, sickly enjoying her in this state. 
You snap forward, aiming everywhere you see movement. Luckily Owen got the few at the front of the room. One, two, three, drop in their puddles of blood. When more gunfire erupts behind you, instinct is to look back. So when you look back at Abby firing skillfully at the people you missed, you just about fall to your knees. 
When you look back, you realize no more movement stirs the smokey room. 
“Everyone okay?” Owen calls out as you step forward as you wander around each piece of furniture in the room. You want to make sure you’re vigilant. 
“I’m good, are you?”
You step over a man’s body as you spot a foot move behind a desk. 
When you make it over to the body, it’s a girl with her hand over her neck. You aimed at her earlier, you could’ve sworn you aimed higher. 
The fact that your initial thought was how you killed her made your brain snap back. What the fuck are you doing?
She’s trying to speak, but nothing is coming out. Blood is pooling on her chest and hands. You kneel down to her, your demeanor changing from violent murderer to grieving friend. Even with the scars littering her face, she looks just like any other girl you may know. Her mouth is moving but nothing is coming out. You reach out your hand, touching her leg. 
You can feel your stomach flip when you notice a tear slipping from her eye. Guilt riddles your bones, the blood spilling from her by your own hand. 
You swallow thickly before you mutter the words, “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”
She lets out one final breath. 
You stand, your legs feeling wobbly. You look back at Abby and Owen. He’s not focused on you, but Abby can’t look away from your actions. She gives you a curious look, watching you stumble a bit. 
“What is it?”
You can’t even form words, too taken aback from watching the life slip from that girl’s eyes. It brought you back to when you were a child, watching your sister die. That could’ve been someone’s sister. 
“What the fuck are we even doing?” You ask, trying not to stutter. 
Owen finally looks over at you after stealing a guy’s gun magazine, “What are you talking about?”
You know you’ll get in trouble for saying what you really want to say. You can’t trust either of them. Everything would get back to Isaac. 
So you don’t say anything.
You finish clearing the room, trying to avoid looking at the faces of the deceased. Owen and Abby leave the room while you trail behind them slowly. You’re on edge, trying to shake the emotions and ideas running through your head. It’s the same emotion you felt when that guy tried to force you to butcher a child, probably not even above the age of 10. Their mother stood by, screaming the child’s name, but you were too busy staring into the child’s eyes. 
They are just like us. What are we doing?
Owen kicks open another door, leading you and Abby through what you assumed was an old board room. There was no one there, but as you looked across the water damaged floor, you notice one of the shattered glasses windows. You creep closer, the glass crunching under your boots. You look down to the street, the grass overtaking the main road. You start to imagine what this place probably looked like before the infection. 
Now it’s a wasteland. 
You realize how high up you are when you hear a shaky breath behind you. Abby stands close to you, trying to see what you’re seeing, but instead she starts to panic over the height you were at. You face her, remembering all the times you were forced to take the high ground with her, only for her to have a panic attack and leave you alone. 
She’s practically dry heaving. You push her back, nudging her to get away from the open window. 
“We don’t need you throwing up,” You grumble, your hand on her shoulder, “Stay back.”
She swallows, shaking her head. “Deal.”
Owen scopes out an attached room before you three continue pressing on. You needed to clear every room that wasn’t destroyed by time and vegetation. 
You pander down an empty hallway by yourself, trying to ensure your footsteps are not loud. You grip your gun when you hear a couple voices in a separate stairway. You press yourself against the wall next to the exit, waiting for the voices to get closer. 
“There can’t be that many left. We already got two of them.”
You snap your head the direction Abby and Owen were the last time you saw them. Now it’s only Abby. She stares at you, her eyes glinting with curiosity. You nod towards the door next to you, cocking your gun. 
She knows what that means. She jogs over, trying not to be too loud. 
When she gets to your side, she gets into a defensive stance. The voices are coming down the stairs, you think. 
“Aim up. There’s two.”
She nods right before you kick open the door, exposing the two people on the stairs. They don’t even have time to raise their weapons before Abby riddles them with bullets. 
The sound attracts Owen, who comes stomping down the hallway. 
“There’s more, go down!”
You hold your ground, shaking your head, “We can’t! Isaac said we need to c-”
“Fuck what he said. We are gonna die if we stay!”
Owen is never one to abandon a mission, so you take his word for it. But you know what you heard, if they did kill 2 people, one of them could’ve been Manny. And if they killed Manny, you don’t know what you’d do. Manny is the only other person you can tolerate in the WLF. Besides… you know. 
You have to just hope he’s okay. 
Abby’s eyes widen as she looks down the hall where Owen was just coming from. Whistles erupt and you know what that means. Abby grabs your free hand, practically ripping your arm out of the socket as she takes off down the stairs. 
You’re practically being dragged down the steps, skipping multiple steps at once as Abby never gives up your hand. Owen is close behind, but every so often, he stops to aim up the stairs to spray bullets. He’s trying to slow them down, but he’s also probably attracting more to your location. A door swings open in Abby’s path, and without even thinking for a millisecond, you lift up your gun and shoot directly into the opening. It was just one guy and your aim was spot on. Your mind is solely on protecting the girl who’s incapable of letting go of your hand. 
“Keep moving!”
Another five flights and you’re finally on the ground floor. Abby finally releases your hand, letting you catch your breath for a second as Owen stands his ground and lights up the staircase behind you.
“We need to find the others! Now!” Abby yells over the gunfire.
You stumble forward, checking down the hallway you watched Manny and Leah go down before you three walked up the stairs. You don’t even say anything, you just start running down the corridor. Your throat is tight just thinking of Manny’s lifeless body. 
Two Scars appear behind a corner and you expertly shoot them, running straight pass them without hestitating. You’re in fight or flight mode, your body shaking with fear that you could stumble upon a horrible scene. 
You don’t know when you start doing it, but you start screaming his name. Over and over again. You’re giving away where you are to the enemy, but you did not care.
Before you can finish slaughtering more people, Manny and Leah yell your name from a room at the end of the hall. When you get to the door, you kick it open with all your might, breaking through the door with your foot. 
“¿Qué pasó? Are you alright!?”
You’re panting and on edge, so when you see Manny’s concerned face, you breath a sigh of relief. His voice brings a bit of comfort as well. 
Abby finally makes it to you, her boots halting right behind you, while her hands find the sides of your body. 
“We gotta go! There’s more Scars than we thought. We either go or die!”
You swallow thickly, your body buzzing at the feeling of Abby’s large hands on your hips. She’s not doing it on purpose, it’s almost like she needs to have you close. She needs to protect you just like you protected her.
Manny glances over at Leah, nodding in agreement that they are on the same page. Abby pulls you away from the threshold so they can leave the room they were scoping out. Owen gets to you four, informing everyone where he thinks the Scars could hide and how they would probably make your escape hard. Abby’s hands are still on you. 
You glance back at her, your lips slightly ajar. She looks down at you with hooded lids. 
“We are getting out of here and you’re not leaving my side, got it?” She whispers for your ears only. You just nod. 
You’re just following everyone at this point, keeping your finger trained on the trigger of your gun. Abby follows you closely, not letting you out her eyeline. You run through each corridor, trying to seek out a good exit. When you finally reach the end of a hallway, you peer out the floor to ceiling windows to see if you spot any Scars outside. There’s two rooms beside you that look like they are empty, but there’s no light shining through the thresholds. This is the only way out down this hallway. You were sick of being a sitting duck. When you realize you have no other choices you liked, you shoot out the window. 
The group jumps back at your reaction. 
“What the hell are you doing?!” Owen yells, smacking your shoulder hard. You turn your gun and aim it right at him. Abby’s eyes widen at your action, her arm instantly going up to block the barrel of your gun. She’s pleading with you, her eyes never leaving yours. 
“I’m getting us out of here. Why do you insist on being a prob-”
Before you can get the rest of the word out, you hear footsteps approaching you quickly from the right. All you can remember is the air being taken from your lungs and your body flying sideways, away from Abby’s protective stance. 
-
When you come to, you’re being held up by someone. You blink slowly, but your eyes will not focus on the person whose arms are holding you tight.
“What’s happening?” You manage to mutter. As you say it, you taste blood. Your ears are ringing, but you can still hear the voices around you. They are yelling to run faster! 
“You’re gonna be fine, okay babe?”
You know that voice. 
“You can’t call me that.”
She slows down a bit just to look at you, “Can call you whatever I want.”
Your head hurts. You know you can not fight the exhaustion plaguing your body. You can’t even argue back to her. You shut your eyes again, succumbing to the darkness. 
-
You notice the pounding headache first. Then the very dimly lit hospital room you’re in. Then the presence in the corner of the room. 
“Welcome back,” Her voice is smooth and velvety. You prop yourself a bit, but as soon as you do, it’s like the pressure in your head doubles. You feel like your brain may implode, the pain pulsating against your skull. You try to widen your eyes to focus on her, but your brain cannot muster enough energy to do so. Your vision is just slightly blurred while you train your eyes on her. 
“What happened?” Your voice is weak and your mouth is dry. You try your best to create saliva, but nothing really happens when you smack your chapped lips. 
“You got tackled by a Scar before any of us could see him coming. Asshole was quick. You smacked your head pretty hard on the floor,” She stands up from the chair in the corner, making her way closer to you. She’s not wearing the same shirt as yesterday. She’s in a long sleeve thermal, the light off white is a good color on her. 
You blink slowly, trying to take in the information, “What happened to him?”
“Manny shot him when I was ripping him off you. It attracted a lot more of them. I grabbed you before anyone else could and just took off running.”
You look up at her when she gets to your side. You don’t say anything, just shake your head. You can’t believe Abby, of all people, saved you from possible death. She had your back the whole time, even though you gave her shit. You didn’t even realize the small glances, the quick actions when you were in your own zone. 
All you could think about the whole time is how you were totally off your game and Isaac was going to have your neck for it. 
“And the rest of the group?”
“They were close behind. We made it back to the jeep pretty quickly. I held you in the back until we could get to the hospital. That’s where we are now.”
“Who didn’t make it out?”
Her lips go into a thin line, “Alex and Kerrigan.”
Alex was the guy from earlier this morning with Manny. He seemed nice enough, surely he didn’t deserve to die. Kerrigan was a girl you remember from a couple of meetings with Isaac. She was a smaller girl, quick on her feet and very quiet. You can’t even really remember her face, which makes you feel bad. 
“Shit… I’m sorry we couldn’t get to them.”
“Not your fault. They knew what they were getting into when we had them join patrols. I know Owen’s taking it pretty hard.”
You want to smack her for even bringing up his name. But you don’t. You know she still may have a special place in her heart for him. You just despised him, especially after he confronted you this morning. Prick. 
She’s taking her time explaining things to you. You realize she’s not ever looking away from you when she speaks, something she usually does when you stare at her. She’s watching you carefully, her beautiful eyes soft with empathy.
“Are you okay?” You question, reaching out to her closest hand. She doesn’t pull away when you grab it, bringing it into your side.
She bites her cheek, “Yeah, course I am. Just glad I got you out of there.”
The softness of her whisper brings warmth to your entire body. You didn’t care about your head, or how hot the room was, or how you may have serious repercussions when you got back to the Stadium. 
What mattered is that she’s here. She’s here and she wants to be. You felt relief that she may have come to her senses about what happened between you two. Something had to of changed.
“What changed? Why are you so dead set on helping me now?”
She winces, probably not expecting you to ask such a question. She contemplates for a minute, licking her lips to prepare herself for what she’s about to say. 
“I can’t stop thinking about last night. Made me realize how I really feel about you,” You’re heart races at her words. You’re amazed when she continues, “I think I was scared of having those types of emotions for you. That’s why I couldn’t stay. I didn’t want to lay in your bed and overthink everything when it’s pretty simple.”
You furrow your eyebrows, “What’s simple?”
“The fact that I like you. And I have for awhile.”
It’s like the world stops and it’s just you and Abby. You can tell she’s nervous to say it, but she needed it off her chest like it was suffocating her. She lefts out a long huff, crouching down in a squat. Her unraveling braid falls onto her shoulder and you let your eyes trail it down to her chest. You notice some blood speckled in with her freckles, right near her button nose and cheekbones. 
“Yeah, I like you, too.”
She smiles subtly, trying not to get too excited over the confession. But the truth was that she wanted to jump up and down in elation. She had never had someone confide in her about their feelings for her, so the idea that someone as beautiful as you could like her despite all her baggage, it gave her hope. 
“I want to go home,” You grumble not sure what else to say, your thumb running over the back of her hand, “I wanna go home with you.”
“The doctor here wants to monitor you another day. I have to ship out and get back to explain to Isaac what happe-“
“No, fuck that,” You squeeze her hand, “You’re staying here with me and bringing me back to the Stadium. I’m not going back with anyone else.”
She notes the serious nature of your tone. She looks up at you with those eyes. Abby Anderson could very well be the death of you. 
“I can’t refuse orders, babe,” She states, her eyes falling to your joined hands.
“Bullshit, Abby. If you tell Isaac I want you as my transport, he will let you stay. I don’t want to be with anyone else.”
You’re practically panicking thinking about Abby leaving without you. With the way you feel now, you don’t want to be out without her. She felt like the safest person to have around. You can’t trust anyone else. 
You start to finally bring wetness back to your mouth, “Tell him that you need to be with me.”
“You know damn well everyone will be suspicious. I need to go back. You need to stay here. Nora will take you back, you’ll be s-“
“Get me out of this fuckin’ bed right now. I’m going with you.”
You stay to move but your body feels like jello. As soon as you try to plant your feet on the ground, Abby is reaching over your legs and placing them back on the gurney. 
“Babe,” She pleads, “Just… fuck. Okay fine, I’ll stay. I’ll stay. We can both answer to Isaac when we get back, I guess.”
Relief rushes over your body. 
“He’s going to have a lot to say to me, that’s for sure. I failed two missions in a row that usually are a piece of cake,” You put your free hand over your forehead. You’re sweating so bad. You glance over at Abby who’s reaching over to one of the tables by your bed for a rag, “I’m not a submissive girl to him like I am to you.”
She smirks up at you. She can’t believe you admitted to being a submissive to her. 
“Yeah, you are, aren’t you?”
If your body didn’t feel like shit, you know you’d be grabbing Abby by her collar and hauling her up on the bed to kiss you. She made your face go hot, her piercing eyes raking down your body. You almost felt embarrassed being so vulnerable in front of her. 
“Stop looking at me like that,” You warn, adjusting your butt on the hard bed. 
“Like what?”
You rake your mind for a response. You settle for repeating something she said to you yesterday. 
“Shut that stupid smart mouth up for a minute,” You try to mock her but you sound nothing like her. She laughs at your half assed imitation. She pats your head with the cold rag, getting all the sweat off your forehead.
“Get some sleep, you weirdo.”
-
“How ya doin’, princess?”
You shake your head at the nickname, smacking her arm with your left hand. You’re still weak and tired, but you felt a lot better with some extra rest. Abby loaded you up in a jeep as soon as you could hobble outside, and now you are heading back to the stadium. You couldn’t wait to get in your bed and sleep for three days straight. 
“‘M good, thanks.”
Her smile is the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. You didn’t know what this meant for you two, but you were excited to see how things would change over time for you two. Maybe you’d be put on less patrols together, but you could spend your free days and nights with her. After all this time, you could have her. 
She taps her fingers on the steering wheel, “Can I ask you something?”
“Depends.”
She slows down the car to glance over at you, “What did you mean when you asked what the hell we were doing? Yesterday when that Scar was trying to reach out to you as she was dying?”
Your heart sinks. Your mind instantly goes to betrayal. Abby is only acting like this towards you because she wants information. She wants to rat you out.
You go from thinking about your deep desire for Abby to thinking about how to protect yourself, she’s going to ruin your life. You’re instantly spiraling. 
“I don’t know what you’re asking me. Are you insinuating something?”
You watch as panic spread across her face. She realizes how bad she sounds asking such a question. 
“No, no,” She’s starting to stutter and use her hands as she speaks, “That’s not what I meant by it.”
“Then what did you mean?”
“I’m just wondering if you feel the same guilt I feel sometimes! You know, like when you kill a someone and watch the life leave their eyes, I don’t know. Jesus.”
You breathe a sigh of relief. She wasn’t trying to double cross you, just emphasize with you. You really can not trust yourself to think the worst of everyone. Maybe because it felt like everything with Abby was too good to be true. 
You wet your lips, “Yeah, that’s what I meant. I don’t like to… I never enjoy killing people. I never have.”
She can’t help but laugh a bit. “Well you’re really fuckin’ good at it.”
“Top Scar killer in all the WLF,” You wince when you say it. She doesn’t say anything just shakes her head, speeding up the jeep down an old abandoned alleyway. You weren’t too far from the entrance to the Stadium. 
She clears her throat, “There’s only one person I’d really enjoy killing.”
Abby has never shared a lot about her past. You knew she and the Salt Lake crew were former Fireflies. You knew that she lost her dad not too long before she got to Seattle. But that’s all the information you managed to get out of her when you two were close before. She didn’t want to talk about herself, she’d rather hear about your tortured past. 
“Who?”
“Joel Miller,” Silence takes over the cabin of the car. You have no idea who that is or why she cared to kill him. Before you can ask, she speaks up again, “The man who killed my father.”
You understand what it feels like to want revenge. But you also know what it’s like to finally get it. Most of the time you still feel bad. Nothing brings back the dead, not even the satifaction of watching their killer’s take their last breaths. You brutualized the man who killed your sister, and it never made her death any easier. But you knew that yearning was different for everyone. Maybe it would make Abby feel better. 
You decide it’s best to just nod, acknowledging her desire. 
The rest of the ride is pretty quiet, just the sound of crackling of rocks under the SUV’s tires. When you get to the entrance of the Stadium, Abby waves and calls out to the gatekeeper. He opens the tall wired fence and lets you two pass through. As soon as Abby parks, it’s like a swarm of people surround you two. Abby gestures you to wait so she can get your door. You laugh thinking about that stupid saying some old people say. 
Maybe chivalry isn’t dead. 
She swings open the door, pushing aside some random guy who’s staring you down. You grab Abby’s shoulder as you ease yourself onto the concrete. You were still a bit unsteady when you walked. It was a mixture of the weakness but also Nora told you that the concussion you have is probably causing balance issues. You took her word for it. 
“Top Scar killer not looking so well, now,” The guy mutters from behind Abby, “Who knows, maybe one of us can be Isaac’s favorite ass kisser!”
You don’t even know the guy and the vibe he’s giving off is making you nervous. He’s about 5’8” and stocky. Abby could take him herself, but you don’t feel the need for her to fight for your honor after everything that you two have been through in the last two days. Abby huffs out in annoyance, ensuring you’re able to stand properly. You start to walk towards the ramp that leads up to the Stadium’s main corridors. The guy is still muttering shit as Abby unloads your backpack and hers. 
“What are you friends with her now, Abby?”
“Can you fuck off? Does it look like either of us are in the mood?” She spits, slinging your backpack over her shoulder. You stand and wait at the base of the ramp for her to catch up. The guy just follows her closely, interrogating her about the mission that failed. Abby just ignores him, her eyes locked on yours. Before she makes it to you, the guy asks one final question. 
“What do you have a crush on her or something?”
Abby drops her backpack on the ground, and within seconds, she has the guy pinned to a truck parked near the ramp. His body makes a loud thwack when he hits the metal. Her back muscles flex as she tightens her grip. As hot as it is, you don’t feel like watching her beat someone bloody for something so dumb. You weren’t feeling your fiesty self, you just wanted to be in bed. 
“Did anyone ever fuckin’ teach you manners or are you just that fuckin’ dense?” She has her teeth clenched. As you get close, you see that she’s ripping his t-shirt. Your moving slowly, but as soon as violent words are being exchanged, you firmly grab Abby’s arm. She peels her eyes away from the guy, her face still scrunched in frustration. 
“Just let him talk his shit, Abs. He’s just jealous because he can’t get any pussy.”
You don’t even know why you included the last part, but it only aggravates the guy more. You aren’t very good at deescalation. You usually instigate things, it’s your specialty. 
Luckily, the master of settling fights comes running down the ramp. Manny. 
“Hey, you guys just got home and you’re already stirring up trouble?” 
Abby still has the guy pinned, his eyes trained on your fragile frame. 
Manny grabs Abby’s arms and pries her off the guy, his body blocking you away from the guy as well. He starts speaking Spanish under his breath, probably venting his frustrations about Abby and you not giving him a moment of peace. 
He talks down the guy, guiding him away from you and Abby. You bend over to grab her bag and shakingly hand it back to her. She watches carefully as Manny escorts the guy further down the parking lot. With her free arm, she wraps it protectively around you. You get chills up your arms and back as you two walk into the Stadium. You’re surprised she’s showing any inkling of liking you to other people, especially her peers. You know there were probably about 10 other people in the parking lot, and they for sure saw her sticking up for you. 
She drops her arm as soon as you make it to the main hallways. People glare over at you as you drudge yourself down the halls, finally making it to a staircase that would put you right in front of your room. Abby lets you start up the stairs first while she stands behind you, keeping her eyes wide in case you fall backwards. You’re relieved as you reach the last step and spot your door waiting for you. 
Abby runs ahead of you, grabbing the door and wiggling the knob.
“It’s locked.”
She rolls her eyes, “I know that now. Where’s your key?”
You turn your jaw upward and gesture towards the necklace. “Here.”
Instead of making you unravel it, she lifts her hands up to your chest. Her fingers travel down from your neck to your collarbones. She’s teasing you and it’s working. 
She grabs the key and toys with it for a minute, trying to release the clasp. Once she figures it out, she holds the key up like a grand prize. 
“You’re so stupid, please let me in my room.” 
She giggles as she sticks the key into the latch and turns it, “Patience, princess.”
Once the door clicks, she opens it for you. The cold air of your room rushes out and cools your sweaty and dirty skin. You get a sense of solace when you walk in, your body feeling a bit reenergized at the sight. 
Abby walks close to you, shutting the door behind her. She shimmies off your bag, dropping her own near the door. 
“You mind if I stay for a bit?”
Butterflies creep into the pit of your stomach. You turn to face her, spotting a somewhat hesitant girl picking at her cuticles. 
“I was hoping you would. Maybe you could give me a bed bath, just like my nurse did.”
She nods, a smirk plastered across her freckled face. 
“If you need me to, I can for sure do that,” She starts to walk over to your sink, searching for some sort of bowl or towel, “I could probably do a better job.”
You stumble over to the side of your bed, kicking off your boots with a grunt. You know exactly where this is going, and even with your weakened body, you want her so bad. 
She continues to search around, finding a large bowl and a couple of your wash rags. She fills the bowl with the warmest water as you peel off some of your clothes, leaving you in just your underwear and tank top. 
“A better job, huh?”
She finds a bar of soap near your shampoo bottles. She sniffs it before she bounds over to you. 
“Yeah,” She places the bowl on your side table, dropping a rag inside it to soak it, “I think I know your body a little bit better than Nora. Especially after the other night.”
She can’t talk to you like this, especially now that you’re in your underwear. You scoot over on the bed to allow her to sit as she rings out the blue rag. She lathers a bit of soap on it before she starts with your arms. 
She grabs your wrist delicately, lifting it so she can clean the dust and dirt off. You watch her so intently, watching her wipe you down. When she finishes one arm, she does the other. She takes her time, tilting it back and forth to ensure she got every side. 
“You want me to do your legs next?”
You smile as she soaks the towel again and ring it out. “You can do whatever you want, Abs.”
She raises her eyebrows as she creeps further down the bed. She kicks off her shoes, settling herself between your slightly spread legs. 
“This bringing you back?” You question, slightly adjusting yourself so your legs get closer to her sides. She shakes her head sheepishly, grabbing your right ankle. 
“Hmm, maybe,” She traces your legs with the rag, using her other colder hand to rub in the wet areas, “If you weren’t so weak, I’d treat you just as well as the other night.”
Even in your broken state, you can’t help yourself. “Easier to control me when I’m like this.”
She chuckles, shaking her head, “That’s taking advantage of you, and that’s not my style.”
I guess now that she confessed her feelings for you, you had to deal with a softer Abby. One that wouldn’t take control of you in the public showers. You watch as she softly runs the lavender scented towel up and down your bruised and battered legs. She is focused, not looking at you, but her eyes trailing up and down from your thighs to your ankles. 
You sit up further, leaning forward and raising your fingers down to her chin. You tilt her focus to your gaze.
“What if I want you to? Ya’ know, give you my consent?”
Her eyes darken as she settles back a bit, making your hand fall from her face. She tenses up her shoulders before rolling them back, easing herself into the idea of getting between your legs again. You smile watching her do the mental gymnastics. 
Her hand settles back onto your thigh, “You’re so desperate.”
You know you got her. 
Without saying another word, her hand travels up to your underwear. She softly places her hand over your mound, her thumb tracing your clothed slit. You lay back as wetness pools in the spot she’s touching, your body heating up naturally. 
Before she goes any further, she pulls away and plops the rag into the warm water on your side table. 
She leans forward towards you, repositioning her entire body by propping herself on her elbows right in front of your core. It was hot watching the girl you were obsessed with settling herself, still fully clothed, before your heat. You could cum at the sight alone. 
She rubs small circles right where your eager clit was through your panties. Before you can even moan out for her, she slips past the fabric and dips her pointer finger into your core. As soon as she does that, it feels like the coil may snap. You didn’t even realize how horny she has you. Maybe it was the anticipation or maybe it was the fact that this time you knew her true feelings for you. Hate sex was hot, but sex when you know she’s plagued with thoughts of you when you’re not even around, that was even better.
You don’t expect her next move. Instead of sliding your panties off, she uses minimal strength to just rip them in half.
As soon as you’re fully exposed for her, she turns into an animal. She mewls at your glistening slit. 
“All for me?” She questions before leaning in to pepper kisses all along the wet trail. You can’t help but whimper desperately at the action. 
“Yes, Abs. All for you.”
She flattens her tongue, moving further into you. Her actions are painfully slow, taking her time to drink you up. You instinctively try to close your legs together when she starts to move faster, being overwhelmed by her maneuvers. As soon as you try to move, she’s using her strong arms to hold you down. Your legs are practically pinned to the bed, her right hand still sticky from your center. 
She shakes her head back and forth, creating a whole new feeling in your stomach. You don’t even think about how loud you’re being for her, not caring if the older guy next to you hears how loud you’re getting for Abby fucking Anderson.  
For not being with women often, Abby knew exactly how to treat your pussy. She decides to change it up and add her fingers back into the equation. Once her index and middle finger enter you, you know that familiar feeling heating up your stomach. 
“Abby, fuck, don’t stop.”
And she doesn’t. Instead she quickens her mistrations, her lips enveloping your clit and her fingers fucking you faster. You reach down, grabbing her braid and the crown of her head and push her further into you as your orgasm crashes down. She drinks you down, taking everything you gave her. 
She pulls away from you, her face wet with your slick. 
“Such a good girl for me,” She continues to play with you, her fingers remaining in your heat, “Do you need me to stop? Or do you want me to give it to you like I did before?”
You smirk as you glance towards the toy that you tucked back into your side table. 
“It’s in there,” You croak out, “Need you to.”
She reaches over you, her body pressed against your stomach as she opens the top drawer and grabs the strap. Your stomach is reeling in anticipation, ready to watch Abby on top you. 
When she gets it out, she rolls off the bed completely. You watch as she strips off her shirt, leaving her bra on. You still are in disbelief of her body, her muscles highlighted perfectly by the glisten of sweat. She keeps her underwear on but you crave to see how wet she is. 
“Take the underwear off,” You say, reaching out to touch her toned stomach, “Wanna see all of you.”
She puts the strap on, ignoring your request.
“I’m not taking any demands from you right now, sweetheart. You take what I give you.”
You loved seeing her be dominant. Seeing the appendage hang from her center makes you throb. She gets back on top of you, caging your body in with her strong arms. She nudges your nose with hers, teasing you by keeping her lips inches away from yours.
“Need you, Abs.”
She captures your lips as soon as the words leave your mouth. Her lips aren’t the only thing moving into you, her hips grind into your open core. The plastic cock does not enter you, but the mixture of her kissing you and grinding is enough to send you into maddening moans.
Her swollen lips pull away, her eyes dark as she lines herself up with your opening. She drags the cock up and down, gathering your slick before easing it inside. You see stars as it stretches you, your voice hearse and gutteral. Abby eats it up. She zeros in on watch it ease out of you and split you wide open. You’re so wet, the squelching sends her to another dimension. She settles into a pace that was agnoizingly slow, taking her time with your body. She reaches behind your legs and bends them so they wrap around her waist. The new angle allows her to hit you in all the right places. 
Your orgasm is building with each stroke. She’s smiling while your mouth is set in an “o” shape, loving the reactions she was getting out of you.
“Jesus, taking me so fuckin’ well, baby,” She mewls, her hands caressing up your sides to grab onto a very important part of your body that she hardly played with this time around. You’re not wearing a bra under your tank top, so when her hands make it under the white fabric, her fingers pinch at your nipples. “You love when I fuck you like this don’t you?”
“Yes, Abby, please. I need to cum.”
She leans forward, bringing her greedy lips to yours. Since your lips are already open, her tongue enters your mouth. You suck at it, trying to get her to pay attention to your pleas. She retracts back, fucking into you harder. 
“Cum for me, then, you little slut.”
The words send you overboard. You’re falling, crashing. The waves of pleasure take over every achy muscle, your body jerking forward into Abby’s sweaty upper body. She wraps her arms around you, fucking into you still as you fall apart. You don’t know the words you’re saying, you’re just loudly whispering into her ear. 
Once your vision clears up, you look to the side to check your position out in the mirror ontop of your dresser. You looked like a fucked out mess, but Abby is the most beautiful thing you ever did see. 
You’re trying to catch your breath, your body feeling even weaker than before. Fucking someone when you had a concussion was probably not the best idea, but god damn did every part of you feel like it was buzzing. Abby stands up, her legs wobbly from being on her knees so long.
“Do you want me to make you cum?”
She smiles at your question, but she shakes her head. She yanks down the strap, opening the side drawer and tossing it in. 
“No, I just wanted to treat you. You can repay the favor when you’re feeling better.”
You start to laugh, throwing yourself back into your pillows. As soon as Abby starts to crawl back into bed, there’s a loud knock at your door. You’re both half naked, so the scramble for clothes is instanteous. You grab the first pair of pants you see and as you’re yanking them up your legs, you realize they are Abby’s. 
“Coming in!”
It’s Isaac’s voice. Your stomach drops as the knob turns and you and Abby stand completely still in your spots. Her pants don’t fit you well at all, so hold them over your private area to block any eyes from it. 
He doesn’t even make eye contact with you, he instantly meets Abby’s panicked gaze.
“What the hell?” He turns to you and immediately turns his back, “Well I see that you’re feeling better.”
Your blood ran cold. 
“Yeah, can you uh, give us a minute?”
He doesn’t say anything, just opens the door and slams it behind him. You’re appalled that he even opened the door without confirmation of that being okay. Your eyes snap over to Abby, who’s look of fear turns into rage. You yank off her pants and toss them to her.
“We’re fucked,” She mumbles, putting her clothes on. You search a nearby dresser drawer for some sweatpants and pull down your ragged tank top. You look back at Abby to check to make sure she’s clothed before you head back to the door and let Isaac in. 
You nod at her before grabbing the handle and pulling the door open. When you meet his gaze, he doesn’t look impressed. You are shocked to see another figure beside him. Manny.
“Hey there,” Manny greets, his eyes showing a bit of hesitance. “We good to come in now?”
You don’t say anything, just open the door wider for them to step through the threshold. Abby stands by your desk, her arms crossed. She tries to keep an emotionless expression, but you can tell she’s pissed. And maybe a bit nervous. 
“Just checking in to see how you are,” Isaac says, his pacing leading him to one of the chairs in the corner of your room. You bite the inside of your cheek.
“Just a concussion. Some bruises. Should be good to get back on after some of the nurses here clear me.”
You try to sound confident but you’re still somewhat dazed from the sex you just had. You lean against the beam in the center of your room, trying your best not to look over to see what Abby is doing. You could still feel your cum dripping down your leg. 
“Yeah I don’t think you’ll be getting back on any time soon,” Isaac says, his demeanor changing towards you, “I still don’t trust you. And now you’re sleeping with Abby? You think I don’t see what you’re trying to do?”
Your heart sinks, “What the hell are you talking about?”
Manny clears his throat, “Owen told us you were questioning the mission. That you weren’t pulling your punches. Letting some Scars live.”
“Well, he’s a fuckin’ liar!” Your voice is cracking, unsure of how to defend yourself. You were pissed at Owen and you knew that emotion would turn into vengeance. They can’t ostracize you for something like that. They can’t kill you for being empathetic. Can they?
“She never said that,” Abby finally speaks up, “I was there. Owen has it wrong.”
“Abby…” Isaac says in a warning tone, “You better not be lying for her.”
Abby scoffs, “When have I ever lied to you? Never. I am not lying for her. Owen was the one who refused your orders and got us all to leave. He said we go or we die. You shouldn’t be reprimanding her. She told him we had a job to do.”
Isaac halts in his rebuttal, thinking of what his next move should be. 
Manny crosses his arms. You’re so pissed, you want to slap him. How dare he go against you and be here to watch Isaac try to accuse you of something like this? What did you ever do to him?
“Is this true?” Isaac questions, standing up to get closer to your slightly hunched over frame. 
You don’t even hesitate, knowing this was all going to fall back on Owen. You wanted to see how that ended for him. 
“Yes. I knew I could not let you down another time. I would never risk something like that. I’m loyal to you and this cause. I am sorry if I let you down again. I wanted to finish the job, I really did.”
You were an outstanding liar. And now you know, Abby was, too. She also had your back. Which made you like her even more. 
Isaac tries to sense any deception but there’s nothing written on either of your faces to indicate that. 
 “Report back to me in two days,” He says to you with a very stern voice, “and Anderson, I’ll see you tomorrow morning. You’re first patrol out.”
When he’s satisfied with his interrogation, he turns to Manny.
“Well, I guess you were right about one thing.”
Manny furrows his eyebrows at the slightly shorter man, unsure what he’s talking about. “Sir?”
“They are fucking each other, but they aren’t liars,” He turns back to you and Abby, giving you two a kurt nod. 
You cross your arms, watching Isaac leave the room and bump into Manny as he does. You don’t even want to deal with him right now, so you wave him out, not saying anything to him. You would deal with him later. Right now, you need a back rub and sleep. And that’s exactly what you intended to get when that door slammed on Manny’s ass on his way out. 
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ao3cassandraic · 10 months
Text
Kayfabe: A Good Omens meta
"Kayfabe," in wrestling, is the performance (including outside the wrestling ring) of whatever storyline is being woven around the wrestlers. Breaking kayfabe is Serious Business for a wrestler; the illusion is part of the event. If you ever wondered how John Cena could anchor an entire HBO miniseries brilliantly, kayfabe is a big part of the answer.
Because of their histories and how their respective Head Offices treat them, Crowley and Aziraphale approach their version of kayfabe -- their whole "I am an angel! You are a demon! We're hereditary enemies!" schtick, also their "we are good bad proper little footsoldiers, honest, Boss" schtick to their respective Head Offices -- very, very differently.
I promise there's a point to this. I PROMISE. But let me walk through it first.
Both of them know that one awkward question to Upstairs at the wrong moment and its Fallsville. Crowley, however, knows a couple of things that Aziraphale doesn't have to:
Punishment isn't just once; in some ways, the Fall is never over. Beelzebub or Hastur can throw you in the Dung Pits whenever, after all, or feed you to a Hellhound, or zap you like an Eric. Crowley's lot do not send rude notes. (s2: we do not know what happened to Crowley after Hell dragged him back at the end of the Resurrectionists 'sode, but I think it safe to say it was not great for Crowley. Litotes: your key to quality meta.)
Downstairs can and does check in -- or drag Crowley Downstairs for a chat and possibly a bit of idle torture -- whenever they feel like it. Downstairs seems pretty disorganized, especially its leadership, so I'd expect ad-hoc surprise inspections from them. Downstairs can invade Crowley's flat's TV, his Bentley's radio, and his very mind to perform those inspections. Crowley is never, ever safe from this. He can't relax. Ever.
Heaven, on the other hand, has 37 levels of scriveners and zero interest in Earth. Talk of "reprimands" and "miracle budgets" and Michael being a stickler and whatnot suggests a formal review process happening on a schedule, governed largely by the dreaded (but quite possibly fake-able or spinnable) "paperwork" rather than direct observation by Aziraphale's peers or superiors. Otherwise, Aziraphale is usually left to his own devices. Remember how startled he is when Gabriel shows up at the sushi restaurant in s1? This is unusual!
(We also know from Muriel that Heaven's records office doesn't seem to get consulted a whole lot. It's possible this just means that first-through-thirty-sixth-level scriveners handle everything, but in my experience of large bureaucracies, it's the folks at the bottom of the hierarchy who invariably get run off their feet first. Don't see why Heaven would be any different.)
Moreover, Heaven's punishments seem pretty light, on the whole? Our angel is so anxious and so sensitive to slights that I'm sure the reprimands aren't fun, and nobody likes a reduced miracle budget... but Heavenly "needs improvement" reviews don't seem to be a patch on the Dung Pits. The real threat is Falling, which is more than horrible enough to serve as deterrent; Heaven doesn't need to add torments.
Moreover moreover, Aziraphale is mostly aligned with his Head Office in a way that Crowley really, really isn't. I'm sure Aziraphale does a lot of his Heaven assignments with a song in his heart and a skip in his step -- it's mostly not smiting or the like. Crowley... probably spends a lot of his work time figuring out how to obey the letter of Hellish law while defying its spirit. Crowley's in far more danger of angering his bosses.
So Aziraphale doesn't have to keep up kayfabe a lot of the time, not even while interacting with Crowley. He can and does save it for the rare occasions Heaven takes a personal interest. Crowley, however, must keep up kayfabe always, whether Aziraphale's there or not. The courage it must have taken that snake to slither up the wall of Eden!
The way Crowley navigates his permanent need for kayfabe is twofold. First, his all but instinctive refusal to accept any positive word or compliment about himself or his actions from anyone ever -- "I'M NOT NICE!" If Hell were ever to hear someone characterizing Crowley that way... That's also why Crowley is a bit less exercised when Jimbriel calls him nice: "nobody'll ever believe you."
Second, a species of Orwellian doublethink: maintaining a running commentary in his head of how he's going to justify any unHellish actions to Hell, since he can never know exactly when he'll have to or what exactly they'll have a bug up their butt (sorry, Beez) about. Even high as a kite on laudanum in the Edinburgh cemetery, Crowley can explain his current justification (in a curiously sober voice -- is Crowley ever really high in that scene? or is it all kayfabe? I lean toward kayfabe) to Aziraphale, "Not kind! Off my head on laudanum, not responsible for my actions."
We can see the kayfabe mismatch play out a few times, and it does appear that Aziraphale gets more concerned for Crowley's safety and more aware of Crowley's need for kayfabe post-Arrangement. That doesn't mean he always remembers, of course -- he wouldn't, he just doesn't have that same desperate need. And, of course, the ineffable walnuts do not communicate, as s2 went to some lengths to point out. I do think kayfabe is part of that -- it's hard for Crowley to be sincere when he's constantly doublethinking, and Aziraphale's off-and-on involvement with kayfabe (and all his other tendencies toward lying) disincline him to achieve or even learn about honest communication.
One s1 scene I went back and rewatched while thinking about this was the Globe scene, which contains Aziraphale's Saint-Peter-esque three-time denial of Crowley. I find it easy now to read that as Aziraphale going "oh crap do I need to drop back into kayfabe now? I didn't break kayfabe, did I?" and Crowley grinning, at least partly as reassurance. (Partly, of course, because Aziraphale is cute and funny even when kayfabing -- and partly because Aziraphale's sudden drop into kayfabe is Aziraphale trying to protect Crowley, of course Crowley's pleased by that.)
The wall pin, now that I think about it, also gains a little nuance from this. Crowley's fear-laced ire is genuine, but how many times must Aziraphale have heard Crowley snarl at him not to break kayfabe in this way? No surprise he's a little unimpressed. (With Crowley's demand. He's clearly very impressed by Crowley.)
In the s2 Job minisode, Aziraphale hilariously drops kayfabe (and that epic whole-body halo, loved that, great job FX folks) almost immediately. Crowley allows it, because Crowley is on firm ground -- Hell will be just fine with Crowley wrapping the angel in a Chuck-Jones-cartoon amount of scroll parchment and flipping him off.
When angel and demon collude on the con later, of course, they observe kayfabe, improv-style -- Crowley helps Aziraphale deal with the Job's-children situation without giving either of them away to the watching angel posse. Interestingly, it's Aziraphale who de-gecko-izes the kids. That gives Crowley an out, sort of: "look, the mansion collapse missed them because they were in the cellar, I turned them into geckos, totally Hellish thing to do, they'd never survive in the wild, but then this bloody interfering angel went and changed them back!"
And how does Crowley console a distraught angel who thinks he's about to be dragged to Hell? Crowley explains kayfabe in the fewest and clearest words possible. "Well, yeah, you did, but... I'm not going to tell anybody. Are you?"
So yeah. That's kayfabe for the Ineffable Walnuts.
But I promised there was a point to this, didn't I? Yes, I have a point.
My point is...
my POINT is...
my point IS...
(not dolphins, not this time)
My point is, how much of s2's Final Fifteen Minutes is kayfabe?
That's my point.
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rogueddie · 9 months
Text
Part one, Part two, Part three
El wakes him up, the same way she did the previous day; softly.
"Good morning, Steve," she says, with a quiet voice and gentle hand on his shoulder. She smiles small, but genuinely, when he blinks his eyes open. "We are having eggos for breakfast."
"Again?"
"You do not like them?" She sounds concerned. "I can ask-"
"No, I like them," he quickly corrects.
"Great! Come on!"
As soon as he's out of bed, on his feet, she gently grabs his hand and leads him out to the kitchen. Hopper is already awake, cooking, and greets them with a wide smile.
"Any plans for today?" El asks.
"Not today," Hopper says, plating their breakfast. "After yesterday, I thought it better if Steve stay home. If that's alright with you, kid?"
"Sure," Steve nods.
"I can hang out with him?" El asks, perking up.
"If that's what he wants."
"Steve?" El asks, turning to him with wide, pleading eyes.
"What we be doing?"
"Oh! I have a lot of ideas! Max let me borrow some of her stuff, too. Although, she thinks you might not like some of it and that I should try something else if you do not want to try, so I have backups."
"And... that's ok?" He asks, glancing between her and Hopper. "If I say no?"
"Kid," Hopper starts. His voice is low, serious- the way Steve always hears adults get when he's said something wrong. But he looks worried when he slowly sits down, turning so he can face Steve. "Why do you think that wouldn't be ok?"
"I dunno," Steve lies, shrugging. "Grown ups are weird."
"They are," El agrees, nodding solemnly.
"Steve, you can say no," Hopper says, gently grabbing his shoulder. "Doesn't matter to what, or why. You can always say no. Ok?"
"Ok."
"Good. Eat up, before El steals it."
"I would ask first!"
It's nice, Steve thinks. How easy, comfortable, they are. She's not scared to talk back, and he understands that it's playful. They try to encourage Steve to speak up, join in, but he's happy to watch them.
"You know where everything is?" Hopper asks El, as he prepares to leave. "And what to do if-"
"Yes, I know," she quickly says. "We will be ok. I will make sure he is ok."
"Don't doubt it," Hopper ruffles her hair. "I'll be back for dinner."
"You better be."
El holds up a hand, waiting, listening. And, as soon as the sound of Hoppers car is too far to hear, she grabs his hand again.
"He will be late," she says, shutting the door to her room behind them with a flick of her wrist. "It's fine though, I know where he hides things, and it gives us more time to have fun."
She pulls a bag out from under her bed, tipping it upside down and dumping the contents out onto the bed.
"We can talk about what you don't want to try first, if you like?"
"Um... ok?"
"Great!" She lifts up a small bottle first. "I was thinking we try painting nails first. Max recently showed me how to do patterns with it. I'm really good at daisies."
"I like daisies," he offers.
"Me too!" She grins, putting the nail polish to one side.
El, Steve is quickly discovering, is perfect. She is more than happy to skip the things Steve is uncertain about, reassuring him that they could try again later if he wants. She's only interested in finding the thing that they both enjoy.
He only ends up with one daisy, painted on his thumb, but El doesn't care.
"You let me paint a base," she reminds him, when he asks. "And it matches your sweater that I got from Robin!"
"What sweater?"
The sweater is yellow, matching his nails, just like El said. It's massive on him- almost ridiculously bigger. Even with the sleeves scrunched up, he can't get his hands free. But it's soft, bright, comfortable. Something about it makes him feel safe.
"You got this from Robin?" He asks.
"Yes! She brought a few things over that she thinks you might like. She wants you to feel safe and loved."
"Oh."
"Are you ok?" El takes half a step closer, hands raising, uncertain and panicked. "Are you sad?"
"No, I'm fine," he chokes out, rubbing his face. "Everyone is just so nice to me. I didn't even do any special things that get rewards."
"You don't need to do special things. We are your friends and we care about you." She grabs him, pulling him in for a tight hug. "And we are going to do lots of nice things together because you deserve it."
And they do.
It's easy to get lost in it, after that. Easy to forget why he should be avoiding certain things, easy to forget that he would usually get in trouble for trying on "girl" things or wearing make-up.
It's easy to let himself enjoy himself. It's easy to let himself enjoy spending time with El. It's easy to be... happy.
By the time Hopper gets home, only a little late, Steve feels almost drunk with how happy he is.
"You kids have a good day?" He asks, only pausing for a minute when he spots Steve. "What did you get up to?"
El follows him to the kitchen, recieting their day, excitedly explaining which things they both enjoyed and what they had to scrap.
Steve is only confused for a moment- Hopper truly isn't phased by all the "girl" things that he'd done with El. He barely even spares a glance at the frilly, pink socks that El has lent him. He seems, like El, happy that Steve had a good time and nothing more.
"Are you guys, like... real?" He has to ask. "Why are you so nice?"
"Would you rather us be cruel?" Hopper counters.
"Well, no..."
"Then what's the problem?" He raises an eyebrow, nodding to himself when Steve can't think of a response. "Good. So for dinner..."
part five
tag list for those who asked (if you want taking off lmk x) : @songbird-garden @str4wb3rry-guy @badcaseofcasey @lioniheart @irethsune @starry-eyedlune @newtstabber @messrs-weasley @vesme @penny00dreadful @ratboybubs @ocapmycap @ellietheasexylibrarian @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @little-trash-ghost @lazyavenuewhispers @paintsplatteredandimperfect @mightbeasleep @anaibis @sleepyboosstuff @thesuninyaface @morpheusmunson @notfrogsunderatrenchcoat @novelnovella @tartarusknight @spectrum-spectre @hotluncheddie @malicia62 @tencents121 @lightwoodbanethings @steddie-steddie @dragonmama76 @weirdandabsurd42 @lenathegay @theequeervibes @7shrewsinatrenchcoat @g4ys0n @subversivecynic @bleedingoptimism @eyesofshinigami @disrespectedgoatman @skiddit @chaoticlovingdreamer @estrellami-1 @chrystal-lovee @m-owo-n @fandommaniac123 @jackievsn @greekgeek24 @ajeff855
- idk why some peoples tags aren't working, sorry if yours is missing + I'm pretty sure we've reached the limit for how many tags tumblr is willing to let me add to a post 😅
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figgrrr0 · 1 year
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Hii im new here! Found your blog by chance and I love how you write! Would you be able to write wanderer x jealous!reader on valentines day? Lets say Wanderer has got a lot of admirers from the akademiya and reader is just silently furious abt it but doesnt say anything. When Wanderer finds out he fucks them nicely and praise them/ reassures them <333
Apparently I struggle to do angry jealousy, I just make it sad... but it's light this time! And soft.
Also it feels so weird writing Wanderer as a name??
Want to skip the lead up? Look for the NSFW sign that marks the smut!
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Valentine's with Wanderer
Character: Top!Wanderer/Scaramouche
Reader: Bottom!Gn // Genre: Smut, angst
Cw: Classic Scara misunderstandings, praise/reassurance, fingering, soft sex, slight angst(?) it's more hinted I guess
Plot: A little // Word count: 1.9k
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Valentine's Day: a day of love, gifts, and showing appreciation for your partner.
Usually, everyone tries to take the day off, freeing up their schedule so that they can focus entirely on the occasion, however it may be that they want to spend it. Which is why you were quite surprised to find yourself alone in bed when you woke up in the morning.
Now, that's not when you started feeling doubt. After all, maybe Wanderer, your boyfriend of the past few months, was in the kitchen. Breakfast in bed is a traditional start to Valentine's Day, and an easy way to get in anyone's good books. But, when you heard nothing after a few minutes of waiting, – no clanking of cutlery or slamming of cabinets – you just had to go see where he was.
Unluckily for you, all you could find was a little note, hastily sprawled and left waiting on the counter:
"I'll be gone for a while, don't wait up for me. I left you some breakfast in the cupboard, it might need heating up if you stay in bed too long, but that's not my fault...
–Happy Valentine's Day."
As usual, his handwriting is kind of hard to read; quick and messy. But, at least he did technically make you breakfast, even if he also alluded to you being lazy.
However, what most takes your attention, is the blotch of ink that splattered right at the end of "fault". It was as if he were hesitating to let go, to pick up the pen and leave it at that.
Which is why you felt oddly warm at the fact that the last part was perfectly legible and obviously had been written slower than the rest.
Even though you know Wanderer isn't particularly fond of outright expressing his feelings, you thought that surely, today of all days, he could push aside his own pride for you. Even just a little. Maybe that was too high of an expectation. His ambitions never let him take a break, so why would he take one for a made-up holiday?
Well... at least he's aware enough of your excitement for the day to acknowledge it first thing in the morning, even if he wasn't there to actually say it.
But, you knew that with Wanderer, everything would be awkward and touchy the first time around. You had to move slowly. Baby steps, you remind yourself, as you head back to your shared room to start getting ready.
It's only the start of the day.
...
You wish it weren't Valentine's Day.
Every street was lined with couples, each and every one of them holding hands, carrying flowers... things that you should be doing with your boyfriend right now.
And it didn't help that you felt like everyone was judging you for being alone, especially when most of them likely knew who you were dating. It's not like you hadn't seen them staring before now.
You couldn't blame them, really. Wanderer had shown up in Sumeru suddenly and didn't feel especially inclined to explain himself, so of course people would be curious. You just didn't like the way that their eyes would... linger after him. Even when you were there! And on the rare day that Wanderer was comfortable enough to let you hold onto him in public, the admiring stares turned to full-blown jealousy.
Now, what was wrong with that? Shouldn't that be an ego boost for you? You'd thought so too, at first. But then you realised that just meant they'd want to try and steal him from you.
You thought you could put up with it at first. After all, you knew that Wanderer wouldn't stand for anyone else touching him or getting in his way other than you. You trusted him just fine. You didn't trust the average Akademiya goer, though. They all seemed to think they were entitled to have whatever – or whoever – they wanted, just because they'd gotten into the prestigious school at all.
You'd tried to bring up your concerns to Wanderer about the whispers going around and the jealous looks you'd get when walking through the streets or halls of the Akademiya. Almost instantaneously, he shut down your complaints, finding the words so easily that it almost felt as though he hadn't even tried.
"Tch... they're annoying and only want to waste our time. Just ignore them like I do."
That response was actually exactly what you'd expected to hear, and while you were grateful for his straightforward answer, you'd wanted a more... passionate outcome. Something to show he cared.
That definitely isn't what you got, considering he didn't even look at you when he said it.
After that, you didn't want to bring up the same problem again. Especially not on Valentines Day, even though he'll probably come home having been confessed to over twenty times in the past hour alone. Okay, maybe you were over-exaggerating a little, but it really didn't feel like it to you. Plus, it's the day of love! You're allowed a little leeway for feeling paranoid, right?
Maybe this evening will be better, when Wanderer finally comes come.
...
As you walk through the door, you're instantly met with a faint smell that you recognised to be the lavender lemongrass scented candles that you kept around the house. Of course, this clued you in to the fact that Wanderer must already be home. But what solidified this, was that when you walked through the doorway, there he was, waiting for you standing next to a vase of beautifully arranged flowers. It was mainly made up of your favourite flower, along with some of the famous Valentine's flowers as well, such as roses, carnations, and even some daisies.
Most likely, it was thought up by the florist that he went to. But at least he knew your favourite flower, as well as followed the tradition of buying them for you at all.
Often times, it was unusual for him to initiate physical touch with you; even though he was comfortable with you, he still just wasn't used to it yet. Tonight, however, he seemed to have no trouble in walking right up to you, taking your hand to guide you into the living room, where you could both just relax in each other's company. The calming lavender lemongrass candles eased your mood quite well, and you were happy that your Wanderer had really tried for Valentine's day.
...
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You had a lovely evening with your boyfriend, cuddling on the couch as you spoke in hushed voices about anything and everything (even if he was slightly apprehensive to start), the lovely atmosphere of romantic music quietly flooding through from the street.
And even though it had felt perfect, as you get ready to retire for the night, the candles having gone out a while ago, you can't help but feel the uncertainty from before start to overtake your thoughts again.
Resigning yourself to forget about it, you get into your side of the bed, your Wanderer already having been waiting for you to return. But he can tell that something in your mood has changed almost as soon as he lays his eyes on you again.
"What's wrong?"
"... Nothing."
He leans forward, showing his engagement. "Bullshit. If you don't tell me, there's nothing I can do to help you get over it."
"I just... those people from the Akademiya... they're still bothering me." You look down at your hands.
He sighs, closing his eyes for a second, "I've told you to just ignore them. There's nothing I can do to control how people think of you, or me, or us."
"I can't just ignore them!" You whine, "They're always looking at us when we're together... it's making me worried..."
At that, he looks over at you, his eyes scrunching as he thinks your words over. "Worried about what?"
Not sure how to say it, you move yourself to lay against him. Your back is pressed to his chest now, and the feeling of his warm breath on your neck helps to soothe your thoughts just enough for you to find the words:
"...I don't want them to take you from me..."
Now, it's Wanderer's turn to be silent. Now, he realises the mistake he'd made in telling you to just ignore those insignificant people; by ignoring the problem himself, he'd made you focus on it more. Of course you'd be feeling worried about this, he'd shut it down the first time you'd tried bringing it up.
You didn't need to just forget about it. You needed to work through it so that you could forget about it.
After almost a minute of tense silence, you're surprised when you feel his lips press gently to the back of your neck, accompanied moments later by his arm curling around you, pulling you ever closer against him. His hand rests over the place where your heart rests, while the other intertwines your fingers with his against your stomach, as if caging in the butterflies that start to flutter.
"Allow me to try again..." He presses a kiss to your ear before speaking again, "you don't need to think about them, or what I think about them." The hand on your heart shifts to cup your chest, your breath wavering when his hand brushes over your hardening nipples. "Because I'll never want anyone but you."
Then, the night is almost a blur.
Wanderer sneakily pulls a bottle of rose scented lube from under the pillow, liberally gathering some as he starts to stretch you out on his fingers. The scent slowly fills the room, intoxicating you on the heady fragrance, allowing it to pull you deeper into the moment.
He steadily pushes his fingers against the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you, never slowing until after you've cum around his lubed up digits. Your hand finds purchase with the one on your chest, tightening your grip around him as you come down from the residual high.
He's whispering short encouragements to you while you collect your breath, the moans you'd been letting out dying on your tongue. Wanderer slowly lifts your leg, allowing him to guide his hard cock to finally, finally press against your hole, not making you wait to feel him as the slowly pushes in.
You don't need to adjust much, the lube and his attentive fingers having done the work well enough that only the comforting sensation of being full registers in your core. He starts thrusting when you signal that you're ready, his pace is easy and the power behind his hips is controlled enough to pull a soft moan from you with each stroke. It's different from what you're used to, but it's good. So good. And what makes it better is the hushed and stuttered, "I love you," and, "You're the only one that matters," that gets breathed into your shoulder as you both approach your shared climax.
The next morning, you wake up to find your Wanderer exactly where he ended last night; right next to you in your bed. You close your eyes contentedly, knowing you'll never have to worry about him being taken from you.
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He's your Wanderer.
Want to send a request/brainrot with me? Check my rules!
Thank you for reading! 🩷
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augustinewrites · 1 year
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miya atsumu knows he’s going to be late.
yet he’s got his phone pressed to his ear, tapping his foot as he waits for the person on the other end to pick up. he sighs in relief when sakusa picks up with a grumble.
“aren’t you supposed to be on a date? why are you bothering me?”
“i can’t figure out which flowers to get,” the setter admits, tugging at the knot on his tie. you’re probably going to text him soon, wondering where he is. he really hopes you’re not pouting, hopes you’re not standing at the door with that concerned crease between your brows that he’ll have to smooth away with his thumb.
“i’m sure any bouquet would be fine.”
atsumu, still peering at the shop’s collection of roses, just scoffs at his teammate. “but it has to be perfect. it’s our first date since making things official.”
red roses would be the logical choice, he thinks. simple, timeless, classic, he’d once heard the shop owner describe them as. in other words, they’re romantic as heck.
but atsumu’s bought red roses for every date he’s gone on in the past. this date is special– you’re special. not just any bouquet of red roses will do.
“then get her favourite flower,” sakusa suggests when atsumu tells him this. “you can’t go wrong with that.”
“that’s a good idea,” atsumu hums thoughtfully, staring hard at the blooms.
“you don’t know her favourite flower, do you?”
a pause. atsumu feels his cheeks begin to warm. “well–”
“just say no, miya.”
“fine! i don’t know!” the setter admits, exasperated. but he knows other things, really! he knows who you’re rooting for on this season of the bachelor. he knows how you like your coffee and that he’s your favourite player on msby.
(okay, maybe second favourite. who didn’t love bokuto?)
he can practically hear his teammate rolling his eyes. “bouquets can be made up of more than one flower, you know. even if you choose wrong, i doubt it’ll affect her opinion of you.”
atsumu shifts his focus to the bigger arrangements. sure they’re a little pricier, but you’re worth it. “thanks, omi. the one with the sunflowers seems nice.” he snaps a quick picture and sends it to his teammate.
“sure. and if i were you, i’d be more concerned about other things.” omi continues as atsumu points out a bouquet and pulls out his wallet to pay.
“oh yeah? like what?”
“like the fact that you talk with food in your mouth. you also inhale food like you’re never going to eat again.”
“hey!” he argues, startling the florist. “i grew up with samu— if you didn’t eat fast, you didn’t eat at all!”
omi, of course, ignores him. “you talk a lot, you’re terrible at directions—”
“i am not,” he huffs, taking the bouquet. “as much as i’m lovin’ this pep talk, i’ve gotta go. i’ll call you tomorrow morning to let you know how it goes.”
“please don’t.”
atsumu spends the car ride to your apartment disproving every one of omi’s statements in his head. he only talked with food in his mouth when he was excited! and sometimes he just had to fire a joke off before the topic changed! and so what if he got them lost that one time they were in sendai? he didn’t know the location he’d picked had been for the north entrance, and not the south one.
he pulls up to the curb in front of your building, checking his phone to see one text from you.
>> on your way?
>> i can meet you downstairs
he shoots off a text telling you to stay put because he’s on his way up, a slight skip in his step as he gets out of his car. he’s lucky enough to catch someone leaving, flashing them his pr smile when they hold the door.
he bounces on his heels in the elevator, going over what he’s going to say when you open the door. a simple “hi” just wouldn’t suffice. should his compliment your hair first? or your outfit?
the doors open on the fourth floor, and atsumu’s heart thumps in his chest as he counts down the doors to yours. apartment 407.
he knocks, taking a step back and attempting to smooth the mess of hair on his head. but when the door opens, he finds that he has more pressing issues.
because he comes to the painful realization that omi was right.
“yes?” the old woman asks, looking him up and down. “can i help you, young man?”
atsumu’s stunned, still hoping that you perhaps lived with your grandmother. “i’m sorry, i—”
“oh, how lovely! are these from my grandson?” she asks, taking the bouquet from his grasp. “i love sunflowers. wait here—” the old woman reaches into her apartment, producing a wallet. “i have to tip you.”
“oh, ma’am,” he starts, taking a step back. “i’m not—”
she just hushes him, pressing a few bills into his hand.
well, if she insists.
_____
when atsumu exits the apartment, you’re waiting by his car, amused smirk on your lips.
“take a little detour?”
“just, uh, visiting my grandmother.”
your brows raise in surprise. “i thought she lived in hyogo?”
he really did talk too much. “okay, so i got a little lost. and i got you flowers, but she took them! they were real pretty too, with sunflowers ‘n daisies! i can show ya a picture—”
“atsumu,” you laugh, resting your hands on his shoulders and pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “it’s fine, really.”
you’re the one smoothing the crease between his brows and you smile up at him, causing a hot blush to creep up past the collar of his shirt.
“now come on, i’m hungry. don’t worry, i’ll pull up the directions to the restaurant on my phone.”
“hey!”
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