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#thanks for coming to my rant that had nothing to do with anything!
the alchemy // mattheo riddle x fem gryffindor reader
playlist: the alchemy - taylor swift
"who are we to fight the alchemy?"
summary: mattheo riddle hasnt left you alone with his relentless flirting since third year , youre sick of it! or are you?...
gryffindor reader , y/n used , fluff, minor swearing, short
masterlist
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"yknow youre the most beautiful girl in all of hogwarts." mattheo stated from besides you , staring at you with his head in his hand.
"as you tell me everyday mattheo , i appreciate it but i think our potions project would appreciate your attention and care much more than me." you stated with a sigh looking up at him and tapping on his empty parchment.
"isnt it just so lucky we got partnered together?" he said dreamily as you scoffed.
"yes, soo very lucky." you muttered with sarcasm.
"so what do we have left to do princess?" he asked.
"are you being serious? im not sure who we is but based on the fact youve done nothing this whole session- its me that has work left." you scoffed and ranted at him with annoyance , only to recieve a bright smile from him.
"i cant help but be distracted besides you." he shrugged and draped an arm across the back of your chair.
you sighed in pure frustration before angrily packing all of your things into a bag and standing up , ignoring the confused and saddened boy besides you.
"where are you going?" he asked with disappointment.
"carry on acting cute riddle , it wont work. unlike you, some of us need grades to get a job in the future, not all of us have devilishly good looks that get us everything."
"you think i have devishily good looks?" he asked both teasingly and happily.
"sadly , i do," he smirked at this before you leaned down to him , your faces practically touching making his smug attitude drop into shyness, "doesnt mean im going to date you , dont even bother asking."
he quickly regained his composure and moved his face slightly so he could whisper into your ear , lips hitting your skin with every word , "youll come around eventually and when you do..im right here baby."
you blushed brightly before pretending to be digusted by his words , pulling away and crossing your arms with a scowl, "maybe in your dreams riddle but dont let delusion alter your reality too much. and your reality is that we're doing a project together that needs to be in by friday , so get to work baby."
he shifted his gaze as his face turned bright red and he began to heat up at your words , or more specfically the nickname.
"k but seriously , get to work or ill be beyond pissed. goodbye riddle" you said seriously , walking away and leaving the flustered boy to drown in his thoughts at the library table.
----
"gorgeous!" mattheo riddle shouted down the corridore as you rolled your eyes , this was either directed at you or one of his hook ups. and upon feeling an arm wrap around your waist , you assumed it was you, "i finished our project just as you requested your majesty."
you didnt bother looking up at the boy and simply continued to walk down the hall , mattheo clinging onto you ,"well done riddle you actually worked for once. at dinner hand me the papers you wrote and ill review it and finish our conclusion. thanks for actually doing it i didnt think you would."
"anything for my girl" he brightly smiled , enjoying your subtle praise greatly.
"not your girl but sure." you rolled your eyes.
"maybe not now , but very soon" he stated confidentaly , giving your waist a quick squeeze before letting go , "as much as id love to walk you to class , i have to attend to skipping herbology! later beautiful."
"bye" you said quietly , giving him a small smile that brightened his whole afternoon.
-----
"here you go my love!" mattheo announced as he sat himself down on the bench besides you and placed some paper besides your empty plate.
you threw the papers a quick glance ,seeing they infact had writing and grabbed them , shoving them into your bag, "thank you riddle. ill help you finish later."
suprisingly the boy sat in silence , in confusion you turned to look at him, only to be given a teasing smirk and wiggling eyebrows.
"what?" you asked in confusion before releasing and smacking his arm lightly , biting back a laugh, "dont be so childish mattheo!"
his expression soon dropped completely , staring at you stunned.
"whats wrong?" you again asked in confusion and sudden anxiety.
"you.....you called me mattheo." he stuttered , face red.
"well yeah thats your name is it not? or is it mathew?-"
"no its just.....you never call me by my first name."
you soon realised , looking away to hide the pink tint that stained your cheeks.
"whatever it just slipped out!" you tried to hide your shyness.
"dont ever call me riddle again.. just mattheo , hell you can call me anything but riddle. id love it if you called me yours though." he flirted again, losing any hint of fluster.
"not happening!" you let out a genuine laugh because of the boy, for the first time in years.
mattheo couldnt help but watch in awe, admiring as you laughed with him.
"come to my quidditch match tomorrow , you can wear my jersey if you want," he winked.
"ill pass on the jersey but sure ill be there , supporting gryffindor." you teased as the boys pouted.
"cheer for me atleast?" he asked softly , staring into your eyes.
"until i lose my voice," you smiled back at him, a wide smile youd never given him before. it felt like a blessing to the boy.
he had no idea why youd become so open to him , you didnt either , but you did know that the boy had definetly flirted his way into your thoughts after years of determination.
-----
"welcome to the third match of the year, slytherin and gryffindor! buzzing to see the new cheats slytherin pull this time around!-" lees commentation was cut off by mcgonagall clearing her throat , "sorry professor."
"anyways back to the match! a pretty decent line up today , the usual team for gryffindor. slytherin having brought 3rd year joseph off the bench for the first time. hopefully we see some of his skills in this match! but i must say the most interesting player of slytherins team this match , has to be riddle. not only did he perform well last season but he seems to have his eyes on his own trophy , as per usual , y/n y/l/n! whats most interesting is the slytherin jersey shes wearing , i mean the girls in gryffindor , where is the house pride!!-" lees rant was cut off by mcgonagall throwing him a sharp glare. you cringed from the crowd as your house threw you dirty looks , the only look you focused on being the smirk and wink mattheo gave you from his broom.
"anyways , the captians are now deciding who starts the match. by the determenation on all of payers faces, this match will be anything but clean and fair , tough luck madame hooch!" lee laughed as the teams decided who started, all of the players taking their positions as the whistle blows, "and the match begins!".
----
all of your house members threw you distasteful looks as you sheepishly walked down the stands and towards the pitch , where the slytherin players had gathered.
you had hardly stepped onto the grass when an arm around you swept you off your feet and spun you around.
"did you see, love? we won!" mattheo who was currently holding you tightly , exclaimed in excitement.
"yes , yeah i saw!" you grinned at him , looking into his eyes as he finally rested you on the ground, his arms around you and yours resting around the back of his neck.
"you were my good luck charm," he said softly , his eyes tracing your body, "i see you decided to wear my jersey".
"like i had a choice! you bribed the twins to not let me out the common room until i wore it!" you both laughed.
"it suits you , no other number or name suits you better , " he smirked , pulling you in closer as you giggled.
"hm i dont know y/n potter sounds quite good." you teased as his eyes hardened.
"no." he stated darkly as you laughed at his seriousness,
" dont worry riddle , you could say im yours."
he grinned widely , "oh yeah, what changed?"
"i stopped trying to resist the mattheo charm." you teased with a bright smile.
he didnt waste a second in pulling you into a passionate kiss , one he had held back for years. after about a minute he chased your lips once you pulled away.
"i love you , since first year" he whispered.
"thats a lie, i thought it was third year!" you gasped in fake suprise.
he chuckled , looking at you in lovesickness ,"i loved you before i even met you."
"thats not possible matt," you laughed.
"it is when we're soulmates," he stated.
"soulmates? wow you really do love me huh, riddle?!" you teased.
"more than youll ever know."
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ayakinari · 2 years
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you ever just
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#duck rants about something#hoooooo man. why did all my motivation and ability to create go out the window as soon as i finished that valk piece#i cant draw. i dont know what to draw i knew what i had to draw but i cant. put it on canvas#cant go in an art block now of all times theres less than one month and a half until finals and i need some sort of portfolio put together#by then and. i am Still exhausted i thought !! it was getting better but nope i am still incredibly fatigued by Everything#and to make matters worse its thursday tomorrow meaning the classes i dislike the most i just want to lie down for 10 years maybe i dont kn#maybe pursuing art as a career was a bad idea. maybe im not fit for this but im already over a year into this art school and i dont want to#waste the money my family's put into letting me go to this school#and i absolutely love it here the teachers are nice and my classmates are cool and i made friends for the first time in years#but god if i havent been in the worst headspace of my life this past year.#well this year was going a bit too well for me in terms of art i had a steady pace of imrpoving and trying out new things but now its just#i cant do anything. no matter what i doodle or sketch or just let my hand do whatever nothings coming out and it terrifies me#maybe im being dramatic! i know someone would say im being just that#god i dont want to go to class tomorrow either im not in the mood for a religious lecture but ive already skipped the past two weeks#keep it up any more than that and itll probably result in a call to my parents#my parents are probably gonna call me later tonight anyways. should get it together til then#maybe i need a nap. maybe i need to go outside and take a walk and look at a bug. maybe i just need to go out in a field and scream#auhgh but i need to draw i need to make Something i cant halfass something the way i did last semester and barely pass#and now im getting dizzy just typing this out thanks brain#ill probably delete this later i just really need to. hhghghhhgh please let me draw. please let me make something or anything at all#i dont know what id have if it isnt art.#ive always been mediocre at everything in my life the only thing giving me peace of mind is drawing#if thats all im good for then what even use am i without it#and sure! maybe im actually not that good at it! maybe my artstyle is uninspired and boring maybe im just wasting my time!!!#but i still love it immensely i love making my silly characters i love drawing out my dumb stories i love just.#making things and being okay at it. maybe. am i actually good at this probably not. maybe im also mediocre at this and just kidding myself#sorry for being emotional on a wednesday. must be the curse#anyways
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aethelwyneleigh27 · 7 months
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Some Dad!Cod Character Scenario and Appreciation Post
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Characters In Mind: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Alex Keller, König, Keegan P. Russ, Gary "Roach" Sanderson.
The original creator of the picture, they also have so many works that are used in so many fanfics as well so please credit her. I found her account here on Tumblr (@ave661) and here is the post.
AFAB!Reader and used pronouns are "you"
Apologies if this is a bit too short but;
ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ
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A/n: I've had a good but also bad week (good thanks to @puff0o0 and other extremely sweet mutuals), it's neutral, I'm not here to rant of any sort but my personal life has not been good. I understand that not everyone will like me but it feels as though everyone hates me, most of those people happen to be at school. Sure I'm not really going to do anything about it because I prefer avoiding conflict but those same people are trying to flip the story around as if I'm the one who hates them when in reality I don't and by being mean to me they're giving me a reason to dislike them. Sure I'm average academically, sometimes I have difficulty pulling my weight in group works and I'm not outstanding in reportings but we all have our difficulties. I just don't understand people who love to hate on others because they have nothing better to do.
This is a word of advice to everyone, don't let others let you feel insignificant, you aren't and you have many talents that make you different from them. (I don't really practice what I preach because I love self-deprication, however I don't want people to feel the way I do because I know what it can cause)
Disclaimers/warnings: OOC??, Pregnancy, Implied birth, Children (Pretty sure that was obvious from the title), People who don't want/hate children be warned.
Short note: This is also a dedication to all the Mistki and Hozier fans out there <3
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He was so used to the smell of hospitals, the smell of medication, it always indicated death for him but this was a whole new feeling. It was the opposite of what he has seen most of his life
So much so that he refused to hold them, afraid of potentially hurting the fragile little one. He looked at you as if you were crazy when you tried to hand him the baby, "Come on now love, you can't just avoid holding them forever" you said to him as of it was a life or death situation.
Hesitantly letting you guide him through the proper way to hold them, he felt his breath hitch at the sound of cooing. The first time the baby opened it's eyes, the first thing they saw being their dad.
The moment he looked at the baby sealed it, he was going to protect them their whole life, he would go as far as feeling all the guilt of having blood on their hands again if it meant your baby would be protected and cared for.
The baby was so small that it's little head was practically the size of his palm, he didn't know initially what to do when the baby cried and shocked himself when he managed to make them stop.
Once the baby was old enough to crawl, he'd let the baby crawl all over him. The little one babbling non-sense while he just chuckled and replied as if he understood what the baby was saying. Gods be damned if he misses an important milestone such as their first word or their first time walking.
You'd often wake up to seeing him shirtless snoozing on the couch, the tv playing only ads for home appliances late at night while the baby only in a diaper having skin to skin contact with their dad, his huge hand big enough to support the little one from falling.
He almost cried the first time your baby reached for his face an touched it, resting it's tiny little fingers on his cheek, giving him a gummy smile. His little one unaware that they just healed something they never broke.
He NEVER wants to ever see your little one grow up, though sure it makes more memories with them, sometimes they just wish time stops for a second so they can enjoy the moment longer.
Initially was terrified that he'd pass his trauma down but he realized that wouldn't be possible and he will NOT ever let them go through what he did.
Eventually chose to resign from his work because the risk was far too much, what if he died? He'd leave you and your child to grieve over him? He won't be there for them growing up and he'd miss everything.
Sure he's worked most his life to get where he is now but nothing is ever worth more than spending a lifetime with you and your child together. He's been lonely almost all his life until he met you.
You are his family, his everything. He promised that whatever happens, he'll crawl home to you...
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fangirl-dot-com · 1 month
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🐍 Track 2 - . . . Ready for It?
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
I'm sorry to the ones I couldn't tag. If you do want notifications for when I post, there's always that option as well!
Logan had a new phone. And for the first time in a while, it felt nice to just be disconnected from the world for a bit. The people who truly mattered had his phone number. His Instagram had been wiped, along with every other social media. The American had gone dark. 
And apparently you had done the same thing. 
His parents and brother knew where he would be, just in case for emergencies. However, he asked them to not text much. He needed time away, well, away from the current grid. It hurt him, seeing how supportive everyone was with Theo. No one had ever congratulated him when he first got signed. Hell, even Oscar hadn’t known right away, claiming he had forgotten. 
Of course, he had given you his new number because you’d be the only person he previously knew that he’d still be in contact with. You also gave Logan you’re new number, having similar ideas to your friend. 
Well, he had given George his new number. The Briton had texted his old number in a panic-like manner when Logan deactivated everything. Under a temporary contract, Logan wasn’t legally allowed to tell George anything except that he was safe and needed time away. 
The brunet was not happy with that, but he let Logan know that if he needed anything, he would come running. A bit of happiness let itself seep into Logan’s heart, thankful for the Mercedes driver’s friendship. 
When he had read the email after the social media posts went up, his mind blanked. 
What did Andretti want with him? A washed-out jobless nobody. He believes they should have been looking at someone like Carlos or even Ollie, who was making good times in F2 car. It had to be anyone but him. 
So why was it him? 
He had been about to call you when you had first facetimed him on his laptop. He couldn’t even get words about before you started screeching. Logan chuckled as you went on a rant, as this could be their big break. His silence had given you a look into how he was truly feeling. 
Your voice had quieted down on the device. 
“You’re going to take the offer right?” 
Logan winced at your tone, which gave you the information you needed. You rolled your eyes as you sat on your bed. 
“Logan, we were just dropped by two teams that didn’t even want us. They pushed us away like we were nothing. And now, there’s a team with top potential that truly wants us, and you don’t want to take the opportunity?” 
The American boy sighed. You had a point. 
“I’m just scared that I’m going to get there, and then make a fool out of myself. Then Michael is going to see how truly bad of a driver I am,” he hugged out. 
You could hear the fear in his voice, and it devastated you. Where did your confident and smiley boy go? Williams would pay for it, one way or another. 
You were hesitant to say something. 
“Logan, even if our times aren’t what we’re wanting at first, Michael said that we will get better. He’s sent my manager some data and it looks like we are scarily similar with our driving styles. Logan, the car is going to be made for us. Michael made sure that I knew that we’d have a chance, because I’m not driving if you’re not. Together or nothing, we come as a package.” 
Logan sat up quickly off his bed. He glared at you through his laptop.
“You did not just quote Charles Leclerc to me.” 
“And what if I did?”  
“No, you can’t give this offer up if I don’t drive.” 
You glared back at him, although you had a smile. 
“It’s either both of us, or none of us. I’m tired of never seeing you, and you need a friend you can count on. I’m sorry to say but Oscar has done a very shit job of being your friend. I’d say that George is a better friend than him.” 
Logan sighed. “No, you’re right. It’s just hard to accept that.” 
Your smile dropped a bit. 
“Logan, he was supposed to be your friend and then he dropped you. Everyone had dropped you so many times and you’ve been the one to pick yourself back up. But now, you’ve been dropped a final time, yet someone wants to be the first to help you back up, to clean your wounds, and to heal you. And now you don’t even want that?” 
You had a point. 
Like always. 
“Your words never seem to fail me woman.” 
“That’s because men are the inferior being.” 
Logan snorted. 
“Will I see you in Milan next week?” you asked with hopeful eyes. Logan could see the glimmer that shined in them. He didn’t want to be the person to damped that. 
“I will see you in Milan.” 
The first thing that popped into Logan’s mind when he got to the base was “Holy Shit.” 
The building was massive as he walked through the giant doors. He really thought that this was a movie set with how grand it was. Surely this couldn’t it? Maybe he had the wrong address. 
“Mr. Sargeant?” 
Or maybe he did. His body turned to the lady standing near the front desk. He showed a smile that was definitely a tad too wide and showed too many teeth. Thankfully the lady didn’t show any malice as she sweetly grinned at the blond. 
“Yes ma’am. That’s me.” 
Always the good southern-hospitality manners with him. 
“I’m glad you could make it. If you’d follow me, Michael is waiting in his office for you.” 
Logan breathed a sigh of relief when he finally knew that he didn’t have to circumnavigate the entirety of the building. 
The air was fresh as he walked behind the lady, who he now knew as Marissa Andretti, Michael’s sister and Head of Directors. Her own American accent was like a comforting blanket to Logan. Gosh, did he miss hearing a familiar voice to his own during 2023. 
The one voice he couldn’t wait to hear was your own. He knew he’d be safe once he heard the lisps of a Southern draw when you talked. The slurred vowels and the biting consonants would be music to his ears. 
“How have you liked the simulator and the data so far?” Marissa asked as she led Logan down yet another hallway. How big was this building and were they leading him to his death? 
Yet, despite his concerns, Logan was very happy with the results. 
“The car is already so fast. It’s like it’s just an extension of me instead of working against me. It feels so right.” 
Technically, Logan had been on the first plane to Milan to start testing, as his own anxiety wouldn’t let him wait until the week was up. You had your own simulator back in the States, so you did your testing there. Logan had been back in London when the email came, and his set up was not going to function with the high tech that Andretti needed. 
Marissa smiled over her shoulder. “Good, that is exactly what we are wanting to hear.” 
Finally, she stopped in front of a door that had a giant-ass A on the front. Logan wanted to laugh at the cinematics. Surely, this was a movie and he was going to be the main character. Marissa pushed a button and the door slowly swung open. 
Logan’s smile grew once he saw you in one of the very plush seats in front of the desk. You immediately stood up and jumped into his arms. He breathed deeply and all weight slowly melted from his body. It had been so long since he had gotten to hug you, hold you, feel you. 
When you pulled away, you had a blinding smile on your face. 
“Glad to see you here Logs.” 
His nose scrunched at the old nickname. 
“I don’t think you’ve called me that since we were 12, Y/n.” 
You huffed. 
“Fine, no nickname for you.” 
“I take it back. I ban you from calling me Logan.” 
“Isn’t that your name?” 
“No?” 
“Logs!” 
“Ah there it is!” 
A cough signaled to Logan that they weren’t actually alone. He sheepishly turned around to face the man who, hopefully after this meeting, would be his boss for a couple of years. Logan turned his full body towards the desk and stepped with his hand outstretched. 
Michael had a knowing smile as he shook Logan’s hand. 
“I am so sorry sir, I didn’t even realize that you were already here, and I haven’t seen her in a while, and it’s so good to just here the accents because the grid is entirely too European and Asian, sometimes I couldn’t even understand them, and…” 
Michael put his hands on Logan’s shoulders. 
“It’s just fine kid. I totally get you.” 
Logan visibly relaxed under Michael’s hands. 
“Now, why don’t you sit down and we can start talking contracts.” 
Logan lit up at the word. 
“Contracts?”
You gave him a smirk. 
“Yes Logs, contracts.” 
Logan felt as though he couldn’t breathe. But this time, it was with excitement and not dread. His butt quickly found the seat next to yours. Marissa left the room with promises of coming back with celebratory drinks. 
Michael pulled out two small stacks of paper before he started speaking. 
“So, I’ve talked with both of your managers and we’ve come up with a contract. You two can look over it as I read the big details. The finer print is stuff that you both have already previously gone over, but you are still encouraged to look over it one final time.”
You and Logan had the same exact papers. 
In the initial emailing process, the two of you had voiced that you were a packaged deal. Logan was surprised to see that Michael had said that he wouldn’t want it any other way and was glad to possibly not have to deal with drivers hating each other. Logan thought anything would be better than Brocedes 2016. 
You looked down at the words as Michael read them out loud. 
“Ok, so in the contract, the two of you will be signed until 2027. There is an exit clause in section C, but we are not allowed to terminate prior to 2027. The two of you will be granted ambassadorship with whatever sponsors we’ve received. The sponsorships are in section E and it gives a rundown of each one and what they will be contributing to the team. 
“Per secrecy of wanting to keep the identities secret until we reach the grid for testing, the two of you will go under pseudonyms.” 
You raised an eyebrow. 
“Like a call sign?” 
Marissa flashed a wicked grin. 
“Exactly like a call sign.” 
You continued, “Do we get to come up with them?” 
Michael clasped his hands. “So we thought that Y/n could go by Phoenix and then Logan would go Venus.” 
Your eyes widened as you took in the name. Wasn’t too bad, you thought. 
Logan let out a sigh of relief. “At least it’s not like Eagle or something. That would be super obvious.” 
The boss-man chuckled before he looked back down at the contract. 
“Since the two of you did not specify a salary, we took the liberty to come up with one ourselves. But please feel free to mention what you’d like and we can always raise it. We also liked to put in that for every point scored, the two of you get a bonus as a little incentive. The salary will not be dropped no matter if points are scored or not. Think of it as a baseline.” 
Michael chuckled as he watched yours and Logan’s eyes drastically widen at the sight of the eight digits before the decimal. Logan gulped at the sight. 
“Michael, I think you added too many zeros.” 
“I think I didn’t add enough.” 
Logan couldn’t respond. 
You looked up from the paper to Michael. “I think it’s high enough.” 
The goateed-man smiled back at you and continued. 
“I’ve seen the skills parts on your resumes and thankfully the two of you do not need to learn Italian from scratch. I don’t even know when the two of you had time to learn it, but thankfully it is not required in meetings or in the garage.” 
Logan smirked as he looked at the words. 
“What’s the fun in that? We can have secret conversations with ourselves.” 
You tapped his shoulder. 
“Except Ferrari will know and maybe Lewis.” 
“I’ll have my Duolingo account at the ready.” 
Michael watched as the two of you pored over the papers and bickered like an old married couple. He and Marissa already had a bet going to see when the two of you would get together. But, you didn’t need to know that.
“I digress. You can speak in Italian if you want to. The next couple of sections are just PR related. The two of you wanted to bring you own teams in, which is fine. I’ve sent emails and meeting times to each of them and have been replied to. All is in motion. Logan, you mentioned something to me once about your personal trainer leaving?” 
A sigh left his lips at the mention of Benny. He really didn’t want anyone else. He slowly nodded. 
“He had to leave to be with his family. Williams wasn’t the most accommodating and he was told that he had to be at every race. Normally I didn’t even need him until race day. He’d miss so much time with his family because of traveling and things like that.” 
“Well, I think we have you covered.” 
Logan looked back down at the paper. A small gasp left his lips. 
Ben Jacobs was written in black ink under “Personal Trainer.” 
“How?” 
Michael smiled. 
“It took some convincing, but he said he’d come back for you. Of course, Ben will be highly compensated to return after he said he wouldn’t. His family will also be accommodated for any race that they’d like to attend and Ben can show up however late he needs. His leave will also be paid time as well.” 
Logan could kiss the man if he could. Tears pooled in his eyes and he could only manage a small thank you. Your hand rested on his shoulder in comfort. He just couldn’t wait to see him again. 
“Looks like that is everything. Are you two ready to sign?” 
Yours and Logan’s heads nodded eagerly as pens were uncapped. There was light scratching for a few moments as you filled out the needed information on the multiple sheets of paper. Once everything was completed, you let out a sigh of relief. You and Logan could finally do this. 
Marissa showed up at the right moments with a few different beverages. You took one of the iced americanos, claiming that Italian espresso was, in fact, the best kind. Logan surprised you as he took a mimosa. 
He side-eyed you. 
“It’s freshly squeezed orange juice and you cannot go wrong with it. It’s a classic.”
You held you drink up and your other hand in mock surrender. 
Michael took a black coffee and sipped it. 
“Now, onto the fun stuff.” 
Your eyebrows pinched. “Fun stuff?” 
Michael smirked before pulling up a projector that was attached to his laptop. He started to click through the slides. 
“First, the car.” 
On the slide was a sleek yellow and black livery. The black really highlighted the tamer yellow. 
Michael pointed at it. 
“This is our 2024 livery. We designed it awhile back, but it’s finally going to be used.” 
You let out a whistle as a video played the engine noise. To you, it sounded fast. You had been able to do a few laps with an actual car to get the feel of it since IndyCar were so much different. Michael claimed though that you were a natural in the car, being able to command it to what you needed it to do. Logan was quite the same. 
The next slide showed multiple models of Lamborghinis. With it came a smirk from the sister and brother pair. 
Logan looked at them. 
“I don’t know whether to be excited about the smirks or nervous.” 
Marissa was the one to pull up something on her personal iPad. She showed the official Lamborghini website. 
“Because the two of you will now technically ambassadors for Lambo as well, you two need to pick out what models the two of you would like to own. For now, we can start with one, but Tonino wanted his drivers to start a small collection.” 
You made her pause. 
“Tonino, as in, Tonino Lamborghini?” 
Marissa sent a gentle smile to calm you down. 
“Yes. Mr. Tonino will be at quite a few races to watch. He has mentioned wanting to see Ferrari fail, but our data is saying that although we look promising, there’s not guarantee.” 
Logan exhaled sharply. 
“No pressure right?” 
Michael leaned forward over the desk. 
“Listen to me Logan. You have been with a team that has now destroyed every bit of self-confidence. Mr. Tonino is actually the one who put your name on my radar. If you’re good enough for him, you need to believe that you’re good enough for everyone else.” 
Logan was taken back. Mr. Tonino was the one to bring him up? He felt honored in a good way. A nod of his head let Michael and Marissa know that they could continue. Logan turned your way, only to find you already smiling at him. He hoped that he could always be on the receiving end of that smile. 
Marissa continued where she left off. 
“Just look over the models and customize it however you’d like. We’ll get it sent to the factory to be made in time for the first race in Bahrain. These cars will be shipped along with our supplies so you can always have them.” 
You smirked. “I’ve always wanted a black Lamborghini Aventador.” 
Logan turned to Marissa. “I’d love a black Lamborghini Huracan.” 
A smile grew on your face. “Aw, Logan. We’ll get matching Lambos.” 
Logan thought that if you had been an emoji, you’d be the one with the big teary eyes and a pout. Marissa looked pleased at the requests for the different models. 
You raised your hand. “Do we need to start looking for places to stay here in Milan?” 
Michael lifted his eyebrows. 
“You don’t actually. Between races, the two of you are more than welcome to either go home or adventure somewhere. We will let you know when it is crucial to come back here to do some testing. Housing is provided when you need to be here. There are multiple estates that can be used on bought property.” 
You and Logan definitely liked the sound of that. Maybe you could stay in close villas or something. Or maybe in the same place as you tended to get lonely. That’s what being pushed out of everything does to someone in a year. You can’t remember the last time that you were invited to do something with the team, always retreating to your small hotel room after a race. You feel as though Logan might feel the same. 
Michael moved to the next slide, showing the race suits. 
“These are the suits for the season. Black or white fireproofs will go well with them. Helmets are up to the two of you. You will need on standard for some races and then you can choose what races you want fun ones to be. Miami, Austin, Las Vegas, and Imola are going to be considered our home races.” 
“What about Monza?” Logan questioned. 
Michael had a glint in his eyes. 
“That will forever belong to the Tifosi I’m afraid.” 
You decided to pipe up. 
“Or Charles Leclerc. I feel like wherever he goes, the Tifosi goes with him. You make him trade teams, the Italians will follow him.” 
Logan shot you a teasing look. 
“You always have to bring him up in one way or another.” 
You shrugged. 
“He’s a good driver. Let’s not bring up that you’re such a fanboy for Max Verstappen of all people.” 
Logan’s torso shifted. 
“It’s not every day that one beats Sir Lewis Hamilton and take away his 8th championship!” 
Laughs erupted from Michael and Marissa, making you and Logan pause. You cleared your throat. 
“Sorry, please continue.” 
Michael went a bit further with the slides, going over compatible data to the car. He went over sponsors and things like that before he finally leaned back into his chair. 
“Are we able to drive the cars today?” 
Much like you were, Logan was itching to be back behind the wheel. And hopefully, the wheel belonged to a reliable car. 
Michael stood from where he sat, making you and Logan also rise to your feet. 
“I’d thought you’d never ask,” he said, making his way to the door. When the two of you didn’t follow, he turned back around. 
“Are you ready for it?” 
lamborghini_racing has posted
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Lamborghini_racing Are you ready for it?
liked by y/n.nation, logang2, box_box_express, and 4,205,095 others
l4mbo.child a hello or how are you doing WOULD HAVE BEEN NICE
f1_fan I fear they have gagged the entire grid with this
ferrariforza damn, I thought we had the best livery - sorry kings 👑
lambo_drivers all I'm asking is who is going to be driving this beast?
lo-girlies do I even utter his name in fear that it might not happen?
y/nfan or even utter her name?
thepaddock_person who 🤨
childofF1 I'll say it - LOGAN AND Y/N FOR LAMBO 2024
box_box_express the paint, the yellow, the black, the lighting, THE EVERYTHING
taylorswiftxf1 I see the admin is a Taylor fan??
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phoenix95 baby let the games begin
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4theF1_girlies EXCUSE MEEEEEEE
driver95 ayo - we got the Lightning McQueen number with a queen
lambo_duo oh gosh I hope I live to see the day that they reveal their drivers
venus2 looking snazzy 😎
phoenix95 no one ever says that anymore
venus2 🥺
phoenix95 fine...thank you
venus2 🥰
venusxphoenix WHOEVER THEY ARE - THEY HAVE MY HEART
rising_phoenix95 immediate fan
lambo_child the Aventador is such a slay 💅
lambof1 I wonder if they have like matching cars with their contracts
venus2 has posted
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venus2 let the games begin now
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lambof1 I THINK I CALLED IT?? THE MATCHING BLACK CARS
pitstop_nightmare I'M SORRY FERRARI BUT THIS IS TOO SEXY
lamborghinivsferrari THE HURACAN 🥵😱
c16_leclerc I'm guessing they went to Charles's school of serving cunt
hamilton44lewis and graduated with a degree in slay
phoenix95 that's sexy baby
venus2 thanks 😚
phoenix95 ...I was talking about the car?
venus2 sure...sure you were 😈
box_box_express I feel like I have some sleuthing to do - hold please
logansarg2 I miss Logan so much - it's heartbreaking to see all of his accounts go dark, I guess I'll have to stan this dude instead
y/n.nation I miss our girl so much
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @disneyprincemuke @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis
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webslingingslasher · 1 year
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hey, i loveee your writings! i was wondering if you could write a fic or one shot of peter parker and reader getting into an argument based off of peter parker saying something to his friends behind readers back about reader that hurts her feelings? ending is up to you! thanks!
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii dunno how i feel about this
You were many things. 
Beautiful, talented, smart, caring, affectionate, loyal, honest, needy. 
Needy. 
Needy, needy, needy. 
Needy, he called you needy. 
Were you needy? You didn’t think so, but then again, would you be aware if you were? 
Maybe he didn’t mean it, it was a private conversation. He could’ve been just venting, ranting about small things. You’ve done it before with your friends, it could be harmless. 
But, god it hurt. It was so casual coming from his mouth, like it’s a common thought passing through his mind. 
“Hi petey,” you said with a hum, he had just left yours to hang out with his friends when he called. 
Silence drifted on the line. 
“Petey?” 
Shuffles, maybe a cough? Murmured voices, nothing too solid. 
“Peter, you there?” 
Laughs break through, you understand it was a buttdial. 
You were about to hang up but Peter moved around, suddenly the voices were crystal clear. 
“So, how is it with your girl, parker?” 
You think it’s Mark. 
It’s wrong to eavesdrop but if your partner accidentally called while they were about to talk about you, wouldn’t you listen, just for a second? 
Notes from future self, don’t. 
“Eh,” you imagine him rubbing at the back of his head, “good, good. It’s good.” 
Good? 
Good, that’s it? 
Good? 
You thought everything was great, wonderful in fact. When your friends ask about Peter you take your time on the soapbox preaching, he wants to end the conversation immediately. 
Is that a good sign or a really bad sign? 
“Just good? Don’t tell me she stopped putting out, I know how chicks are.” 
“Don’t talk about her like that, Logan.” 
Peter came to your defense, point one for parker. 
On the other side of the line Logan holds his hands up in surrender, “didn’t mean to poke the bear there, parker. Get your girl to suck your dick, you’ll be fine.” 
Next time you see Logan you’ll clobber him. 
Peter grunts, he’s never liked Logan and neither did the friend group. But every group needed that one person that was mutually hated so there was always something to joke and talk about. 
“She sucks my dick just fine, you sound jealous. I’m sure she’s got a friend that’ll pity fuck you.” 
Your eyebrows furrow, Peter doesn’t talk like that. At least not around you, is this what the ‘saturday’s are for the boys’ boys mean when they say locker room talk? 
Mark cuts back in, he lights up a joint. 
“I’m sure parker is just fine, he can barely rip himself away from Y/N.” He coughs on the smoke between laughs, Peter stays quiet. He’s wondering if he should tell his friends this, it’s nothing serious and it didn’t really bother him, and he didn’t want to say anything to you because he knows you’d take offense and stop it; and he’d miss it way too much. 
“Yeah, that’s kinda the problem.” 
He mumbled it, but he said it and what the fuck did that mean? 
You couldn’t stop now, you pray he doesn’t see you’re connected to the call. 
“Trouble in paradise? Do tell.” Mark offers the joint to Peter, he accepts it and passes it to Logan. 
“Sometimes I feel like she’s all over me and needs me for everything, I dunno.” 
Peter tugs at his hair, he’s not saying it right. 
“I think I feel like no matter how much I’m there it’s not enough, she’s so needy.” 
Gut punch. You took such a sharp inhale you have to stop breathing to make sure Peter didn’t pick up on it. You’re reeling trying to look at it from his side, you didn’t seem needy, but everyone’s idea of needy must be different. 
Sure, you do try to extend his visits for as long as possible but that’s because some weeks you feel like you don’t see him but for a few hours and you’re willing to scrape up as much time as possible. And because you love him. And sure, there have been times you ask him to do things or help you but you love watching him fix things around your apartment and have him take extra time to dote on you. And because you love him. 
You want to hang up, you don’t want to know why he thinks you’re needy. If you do then you’ll spiral and question everything you do from here on out. 
On Peter’s end he pulled his phone out to check to see the time, and if you’ve texted. His eyes widen at the screen, he feels like he stopped breathing before he whispered a “fuck” under his breath, he looked at the screen and tried to pretend it wasn’t real. 
It was. Bold and in his face, your saved name and small lettering below it, ‘call connected’ you’ve been on the line for six minutes. You heard absolutely everything, in a panic he hung up the call which was the worst thing he could’ve done, because now you know he knows, and suddenly you realized that if he thought you were needy you’d show him you weren’t. 
—----------------------------------
There is no surprise your boyfriend is pounding on the door. 
Not loudly, but constant and quickly, demanding to not be ignored. 
Like his four missed calls. 
After two straight minutes of his rapping you finally swung the door open, waiting for him to bombard you with reason and apologies. He looked surprised. Peter opens and closes his mouth, he doesn’t know what to say exactly.
Your eyebrow raises at his silence, “you had forty minutes, four missed calls, seven ignored texts, banged on my door for two minutes, and in all that time you didn’t think of one thing to say?” 
“I’m sorry?” He looks sheepish, he gave a tiny shrug. Hoping you’ll find him cute enough to be let off the hook, like a kid with cookie crumbs around his mouth claiming he didn’t know who ate them. 
You run your tongue over your teeth and click them, “yeah, no.” You try to swing the door shut and he foot catches it. 
“Baby,” he catches your eyes, his own look wet and sad. He looked remorseful for his words but didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.” 
You know what you want to say, you want to tell him that it hurt your feelings, that you didn’t know you were being that way, why he didn’t tell you, why he felt that way, a million things ran through your mind. 
But that would make him right. Needy about answers, about why he would think that. That would prove him right, and you weren’t needy, you didn’t think you were but anything he might deem as needy wouldn’t be done anymore. 
“It’s okay.” 
Peter pulls his head back, he’s unsure if you know what you said. 
“It’s…okay?” 
You nod, “yeah, sure, I understand, you were just venting, and I shouldn’t have been listening.” 
“But that doesn’t make it okay, because if you did that to me I’d be hurt.” 
But I wouldn’t do that, I only praise you around my friends.  
“Yeah, well, fuck around and find out, you know.” 
It feels off, this is why Peter didn’t want to tell you anything. He knew you’d pull away from him, you already are. 
“Wanna watch a movie? I heard there’s -” he tries to move around your shoulder to come in but you move to block him entirely. He looks at you half confused, half offended. 
You didn’t need him. He had plans with his friends and you weren’t about to prove them all right and have Peter come running back to you, like he always does, and try to fix things. 
This time Peter wouldn’t fix things, you were. It was clear what he didn’t like, so you’ll stop doing it. 
“Don’t you have plans tonight?” 
Peter snorts, “since when do you care? You always beg me to stay with you anyways.” 
Is that one? One of the things that made him think you were needy? 
Not tonight. 
“I won’t beg tonight then, go have fun.” 
Peter regrets everything about the past two hours, he should’ve stayed when you asked the first time. 
“I have more fun with you, lemme in.” Peter tried to push past but you were adamant he leaves. 
“Go smoke some weed with Mark, come back when you have the munchies. I’ll make cookies.” 
Peter shakes his head, “I don’t wanna hang out with them right now, I want to hang out with you.” He tries to move past you for the third time, you put a hand on his chest to push him back.
“No you don’t. You feel guilty and want to prove something to me or yourself or whatever, and I don’t need Logan thinking if you don’t grovel at my feet then I’ll stop sucking your dick.” 
Peter jumps in immediately, “that was fucked up, and I know I said some shitty things too but I didn’t want him thinking I wasn’t getting laid.” His eyes blow up, he moves his hands around, “not that that matters! Cause I’d love you no matter how much we had sex, but we are having sex and he-” 
You hold up a hand to stop him, “I don’t know where you think that’s going but it’s nowhere good. You’re just digging a deeper hole.” 
Peter’s voice is panicked, “there’s a hole?” 
You sigh and clasp your hands, you point them at his chest. 
“I’m not mad and I don’t need you here, I also don’t need you trying to make a point about not meaning it. You said it and you meant it, don’t lie to my face. Either man up or go back to your friends.” 
You were right, this is going nowhere good and Peter knows it. 
“This shouldn’t be a fight, right?” 
You shrug, “I dunno.” 
Peter pleads with you, he wants anything, something he can work off of. 
“I’m sorry, I really am.” He reaches for your hands and you let him hold them, he rubs his thumbs over the back of your hands. 
“Are you sorry you said it or sorry you got caught?” 
Peter doesn’t know how to respond yet, he doesn’t know how to be honest without offending you and he doesn’t want one thing to change. 
“I just….” He groans and tilts his head back, “can I please come inside?” 
You take him in and decide it’s okay for him to enter, your head looks at your roommates door to make sure it’s still closed. 
Peter flops on the couch and slaps the coffee table, you take a seat where he called and waited. 
“You’re not needy. Not at all, and don’t think I’m just saying that because I think that’s what you want to hear. Needy is the wrong word, it makes you seem annoying or unbearable and I promise you’re my most favorite person in the world, so it’s not that.” 
You whisper your words, your thumbnail being nibbled on. 
“So what did you mean?” 
“I don’t even know!” Peter stresses his point, you can see how upset he is, that he not only said it, but couldn’t place it. 
“I just think maybe,” he groans, he doesn’t like being vulnerable. He’s the strong one in the relationship, it wasn’t very manly to cry over loving your girlfriend too much. 
Peter rubs at his cheek and shrugs, “I don’t know.” 
Your eyes narrow, “liar.” 
Peter folds his cards, the only thing he has to lose here is you, and he will if he doesn’t be honest. But it’s a whole new level to him, a layer he’s about to peel back, one that isn’t so light and happy. It’s a side very few people have seen, he’s scared to show it to you. 
“Can we talk?” 
You look at him oddly, “we are?” 
“Private.” 
You’re confused but lead him to your bedroom. Peter didn’t know how to tell you he was about to cry, but when he did he didn’t want your roommate seeing it. 
You wait for Peter’s lead when you reach your room, he pushes you towards your bed for you to take a seat, he stands between your legs and cups your face. Peter tilts your head up until he’s looking down into your eyes, he looks troubled. A small tired grin hugged his lips, “hi baby.” 
“Hi, peter.” you whispered soft, his thumb brushed your bottom lip. 
He takes in a deep breath like he’s remembered the task at hand. 
“I’m about to tell you something I haven’t told anyone else, and it’s a different Peter than you’re used to.” Peter presses a kiss to your forehead and steps back, this time he takes a seat at your desk chair. 
“I don’t think you're needy. I don’t even know what to say, cause like, fuck… I don’t, look, spider-man has a lot of people that need him, right? And he works hard all day and has no one to share it with, but I do. I get to tell you about my shit days, and you’ll patch me up and I’ll pretend to leave just so you can ask me to stay over, and honestly? It feels nice to have someone who needs Peter and not spider-man for once.” 
You try to speak but he stops you, he looks like he’s about to cry. 
“I look forward to it too much. I fucking sit here and play pretend, like it’s a chore to spend time with you, and you always ask me how I do it so good and I’m just so used to hiding it. I’m so used to hiding this lonely feeling, like nothing is enough, and then I had you.” 
Peter shakes his head slowly, he wipes at his nose. Tears drop casually with every few blinks as he speaks, you want to hold him to you forever. 
“I didn’t have to do anything because you did, you made all the decisions I wanted to in the first place. I love when you ask me to fix things, and when you want me to spend every second with you, when you want me to skip a night out, when you get me to stay over for the third night in a row.” 
Peter wipes his eyes, he sniffs and breathes out shakily, this is what it’s about, right? 
“Baby, you aren’t needy. I am.”
“And you projected that on me.” It wasn’t a question. 
He laughs, a tear drips down his nose, he wipes it away.
“I’ve never felt so needed and wanted in my life, and I am so terrified I’ll fuck it up and lose it all.” 
You’d never do that, if the relationship ends it won’t be on your terms.
Finally you stand and sit on his lap, he welcomes you and for the first time you notice how tight he’s always wanted to hold you, forever stuck in his grasp. You straighten the collar on his shirt and fix his hair, his eyes shiny from his tears. 
“You could, you could fuck it all up and lose it.” 
You press your forehead against his, “but I need you too much.” 
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steddiealltheway · 7 months
Text
(happy happy happy happy happy birth-dae to @strawberryspence ilysm my Wendy’s frosty and chicken tenders friend. I hope you enjoy 💛🍓)
Steve was having one of those days. Then again, he seemed to have a lot of those after two run-ins with an evil alternate dimension combined with the aftermath of his "bullshit" relationship with Nancy. Luckily his parents weren't home to add to the general mood of things, but that just left him with a too big, empty house.
As soon as he got inside, he turned around and went back to his car. He knew where to go.
The drive was on the longer side, but Steve didn't mind. He felt like he could finally breathe when he saw the Leaving Hawkins sign. A few miles later, he pulled into one of the spaces beside a small diner.
He walked in and waved to Linda who smiled sweetly at him. He remembered a few years ago when he had first met her after taking his dad's keys and driving far away from his parents. Linda had given him a free meal and lingered around, letting him rant and not judging him for the things he said about his asshole parents and friends. She had simply listened and told him that he reminded her of her son when he was younger.
When Steve eventually left, Linda had told him that he could stop by anytime, and she would likely be there. She also hinted that maybe he should take a bus next time because he looked a little too young to drive. Steve had blushed and ducked his head at the comment, but Linda had just laughed and told him things would get better.
And it seemed like every time Steve came back, things would eventually get better.
But he can't help but feel a little jilted when he notices that his corner booth which is always available is suddenly not. He can't see whoever is sitting there as they face away from the door. Their shoulder-length curly hair sticks out to him, but he wonders if that has to do with Nancy.
He knows he should just find another booth or table or even sit at the bar, but Steve can't help but wonder who is sitting at his table. So, he approaches them slowly, noticing how they're bent over some book or something scribbling away only with a pink-tinted milkshake on the table.
He clears his throat when he gets closer, and the person looks up with big, brown eyes curious at first before becoming closed off.
"Munson," Steve says, not sure what emotion he's feeling because he was the last person he imagined to be here.
"Harrington," Eddie replies, sounding a bit irritated.
Steve frowns. "Why are you sitting at my table?"
Eddie looks around before saying, "Funny, I didn't see a sign."
"You know what I mean."
Eddie closes the notebook in front of him before he leans back and crosses his arms. "Do I?"
Steve runs a hand through his hair and rests his hands on his hips. "I sit here every time I come here."
The corner of Eddie's mouth quirks up into a small smirk. "Thanks for explaining, but I'm not moving for you, Your Highness." He tilts his head down in a mock bow that irks Steve.
"Thankfully, you’re not sitting in my side of the booth," Steve says as he slides into the bench on the opposite side of Eddie.
Eddie looks at him blankly for a few seconds and takes a sip of his milkshake. He swallows and says, "Just don't dump this on me, okay?"
"Why would I do that?"
Eddie rolls his eyes. "Why would King Steve humiliate The Freak? What a great question."
Steve frowns. "I haven't done anything to you before."
"And nothing is stopping you now."
Steve snorts. "It sounds like you almost want me to. Which I won't by the way. If that was seriously something you were worried about."
Eddie narrows his eyes at him as if expecting something as he clutches his notebook a little tighter.
Steve gestures toward it. "What that?"
Eddie frowns and looks down at the book. "You wouldn't care."
"Try me."
Once again, Eddie stares at him. This time Linda interrupts as she slides a burger with fries in front of Steve. "Everything okay here?"
Eddie and Steve both nod, but Linda raises her eyebrows at Steve as if saying behave.
Steve takes the message and kindly pushes the plate a little toward Eddie saying, "You can take a fry if you want."
Eddie stares at the plate and considers it.
"I promise in the time Linda brought it to me and I pushed it to you, I didn't poison it." Eddie still doesn't take a fry, so Steve reaches over, grabs one, and takes a bite. "See?"
Eddie looks at him and says, "Can never be too sure." But he takes a fry and dips it in his milkshake before taking a bite.
Steve's eyebrows furrow.
Eddie does the same thing with the other half of his fry and asks, "What?"
Steve grabs another fry. "What flavor milkshake is that?"
"Strawberry."
Steve frowns again as Eddie sighs. "I get a fry in a vanilla milkshake maybe, but strawberry?"
"Don't knock it before you try it," Eddie says pushing the glass toward him.
Steve stares at it tentatively.
"Unless you're afraid of double dipping after a freak."
With that comment, Steve looks Eddie in the eye, dips a fry into the shake, and bites into it. And it's not... unpleasant. He even takes the other half and tries more. "It's not bad. But I'm still confused about the choice of a strawberry milkshake."
It seems to be the wrong thing to say as Eddie retreats back into his shell a bit.
"I'm just more of a vanilla or chocolate guy," Steve tries to clear the air.
Eddie glances up and shrugs. "I used to get one here with my mom."
"Not anymore?" Steve can't help but ask.
"Considering that she's six feet under, no"
Steve's heart jumps at the response. He doesn't really know what to do other than reach over and rest a hand over where Eddie's rests. "I'm sorry."
Eddie glances down at their hands and shrugs. "Happened a long time ago. There's no need for all that."
Steve squeezes his hand one more time before pulling back. "Still sucks," he comments before biting into his burger.
"It is what it is." Eddie looks away and shakes his head before stating, "So, you've obviously been here often. When did that start?"
Steve finishes his bite and shrugs. "A few years ago. I tried to run - or rather drive - away from home. But I ended up here. I've been back whenever I need a break and to know that things will get better."
"How are things looking right now?"
"Better," Steve says with a small smile. He pushes his plate toward Eddie again. He takes the hint and grabs another fry.
"You know, chicken tenders taste pretty good with the milkshake too."
Steve laughs. "I'll have to take your word for it."
Eddie smiles, revealing his dimples, and Steve can't drag his eyes away.
Steve finishes his burger as Eddie makes a dent in his fries - not that he minds. The silence between them is nice, comfortable even. Steve's not sure the last time he's had a moment like this with someone.
Eddie glances up at him and hesitantly asks, "Did you really want to know what the notebook's for?"
Steve nods and leans across the table to get a better look as Eddie opens it up, explaining his D&D plans and showing off his drawings. As he flips the page and reveals a drawing of the Demogorgan, Steve slips out of the booth and sits next to Eddie, getting a closer look. "That's not what I expected it to look like."
Eddie looks at him. "You know what the Demogorgan is?"
"I kind of babysit these kids who play Dungeons and Dragons, so yeah. I know of it," Steve somewhat lies.
Eddie continues to stare at him in disbelief, and Steve finally realizes how close they are. He finds that he doesn't mind the small distance between them, and he especially doesn't mind the way Eddie's cheeks get a little pink before he turns away to flip through more pages.
And as much as Steve is impressed by all the effort and obvious talent that went into his notebook, he can't help but get a little distracted by Eddie himself.
He doesn't leave his side of the booth, opting to keep the close proximity, knees knocking into each other and fingers brushing as they reach for the plate of fries.
Steve doesn't want to leave his little booth, and he doesn't think he wants to come back later if Eddie won't be there.
But as it starts to get darker outside, Eddie glances at his watch and curses, "Shit, I need to get home before my uncle leaves for work."
"You can leave now, I'll pay for your shake."
Eddie looks at him, and sighs, "Thank you." He squeezes Steve's hand before they both scoot out of the booth.
They both have a moment where they linger and stare at each other, unsure of what happens next. They both know the dumb social hierarchy at their school and even with Steve's fallen status, Eddie's friends would never accept him. So maybe this is it.
"I'll see you around," Steve says, laying a hand on Eddie's arm and squeezing, lingering a little longer than he should.
"I'll see you around," Eddie echoes, hesitating for a moment before leaving.
Steve lets out a deep breath as he sees him walk out the door. Things will be better. They have to be.
-:-:-:-:-:-
This is definitely not the way Steve thought Eddie would be reintroduced into his life, and more than anything, he wishes Eddie wasn't involved in this. He just wants to go back to the sanctuary that is Linda's Diner. And he wants her to tell him that everything will be better.
Instead, he instructs Dustin to grab Eddie a strawberry milk from the store, and later grumbles without being able to explain why when Dustin comes back with a Yoohoo.
"Who the hell drinks strawberry milk? Chocolate milk is the obvious choice," Dustin defends.
Steve's heart tugs a little when he remembers having nearly an identical conversation.
-:-:-:-:-:-
(Ending 1)
Steve wipes at his tears as he drives away from Hawkins, getting stuck in the traffic almost immediately as everyone tries to get away from the cursed town.
He can’t do this right now. He doesn’t want to be given time to think about Eddie.
He pulls over to the shoulder and speeds along, ignoring all the car horns going off as he passes. He just needs to get to the diner.
A few miles later, he quickly turns into a space next to the small building and gets out quickly, rushing inside to his little sanctuary.
But as he stares at his table, he only gets memories of Eddie sitting across from him and next to him. And he feels like he can’t breathe here anymore.
But he still sits down in the booth, taking Eddie’s side instead, facing away from anyone who might enter.
He can’t be gone.
He sits in silence, staring at the place where Eddie’s notebook used to lay, where they shared a plate of fries, where Eddie’s strawberry milkshake used to sit.
A plate is slid in front of him, and Linda appears quietly at his side, knowing that he doesn’t want to talk about it. But when she slides a singular strawberry milkshake in front of him, he finally breaks down.
Maybe the town of Hawkins wasn’t just cursed. Maybe strawberry milkshakes were too.
-:-:-:-:-:-
(Ending 2. Aka an apology for ending 1)
Steve can’t sit still in the waiting room of the hospital. He has too much that was left unsaid. Too much at stake. But the doctors say it’s touch and go. And he has to wait.
Steve finally sees Eddie’s uncle, someone who was mentioned to him forever ago but has appeared sporadically in Steve’s thoughts. He wondered where Eddie’s dad was. Why he lived with his uncle. If his uncle was kind to him. If his uncle was on his dad’s or mom’s side. How he took the news when Eddie’s mom died. When he took Eddie in.
There were so many questions that were left unanswered because Steve was a coward. God, he wishes he would’ve seen that there were bigger, more important things than the school hierarchy. But even when he was fallen, there was a reputation he needed to somewhat uphold.
Steve doesn’t know how much longer he can take the waiting and thinking. He just needs a break from it all. He needs… Linda’s Diner.
He jostles Dustin awake and lets him know that he’ll be back in a while. Dustin just kind of gives him a look before shrugging and mumbling, “Okay.”
Robin grabs his hand, asking if he needs her to go with him. But he shakes his head and lets her know he’d rather her stay here and update him when he comes back.
He leaves the hospital quickly, racing to his car and speeding down the roads to the small dinner. He can’t help it. He needs to know that everything with get better as soon as he can.
When he gets there he takes a moment before going inside, looking away from his booth when all he can recall are the memories of Eddie. Instead, he heads to the bar and asks Linda for a strawberry milkshake to go.
After she puts in the order, she walks up to Steve and lays a hand over his. “Is he okay?” She asks gently.
Steve should’ve known that she’s seen the news, but he’s relieved to find that she knows Eddie isn’t guilty. That he would never be capable of the horrible things he’s been accused of.
“He’s touch and go right now,” Steve admits, trying not to let his bottom lip quiver too much.
Linda squeezes his hand and says, “It’ll all be better soon. I just know it.”
Steve smiles at her and whispers, “Thank you.”
Moments later, she hands him the milkshake, and Steve leaves soon after. He needs to get back as quickly as he can.
He drives faster than when he left, almost regretting his little pit stop when he feels like he needs to be there. He races up to the waiting room and finds that Dustin and Eddie’s uncle are gone. Steve’s stomach drops as he looks at Robin. “Is he?”
Robin hugs him with tears in her eyes and whispers, “He’s awake. And he’s okay. He’s going to be okay.”
Steve sighs in relief and feels a few tears spill out of his eyes. He ducks his head into Robin’s neck and tries to hide his reaction from anyone else.
“Steve.”
Steve takes a deep breath and looks toward the doorway where Dustin is standing. “He wants to see you.”
Steve smiles and squeezes Robin’s arm before practically dragging a confused Dustin down the hall while asking where his room is.
Dustin leads him to it and says, “I don’t understand why-”
“Later, okay?” Steve asks, cutting him off. “I promise. I’ll tell you later.”
Dustin nods and for once he lets Steve go easily. “Okay.”
Steve jostles his hair around before slowly going into the room. He nearly gasps at the sight of Eddie so pale and almost lifeless, but when he sees his chest move slowly up and down, he’s flooded with relief.
“Eddie…” Steve says, practically running up to the bed and placing a gentle hand over his.
Eddie weakly smiles at him before glancing down at his hand. “What’s that?” He asks quietly.
“A strawberry milkshake from Linda.”
Eddie smiles a little wider. “You remembered.”
“Of course I did. How could I forget?” Steve sets it down on a little table next to his bed and finally confesses, “Eddie, I wish things would’ve been different between us because out of all the things I got from Linda’s diner, you were the best. And I’m so glad you stole my booth because I needed you that day. And I need you now and-”
“Steve?” Eddie says softly.
“Yeah?”
Eddie’s eyes move toward the foot of his bed.
Steve glances over and jumps when he sees Eddie’s uncle watching him with a small smile. “Go ahead, I’m enjoying this.”
“Wayne,” Eddie tries to groan but it ends up coming out way too soft.
Steve just laughs and grabs Eddie’s hand. “What I’m trying to say is that after your name is cleared and you’ve healed and they determine that neither of us have demobat rabies, would you want to go on a date with me at Linda’s diner?”
Eddie smiles and squeezes his hand. “Absolutely.”
“Thank god,” Wayne mutters from his seat.
As Steve laughs and Eddie tries to glare at his uncle, he can’t help but believe that everything will truly get better.
1K notes · View notes
juniperskye · 3 months
Text
Stick to What You Know.
Sneak peek: Reader is asked to join the BAU by none other than Director Cruz himself. She is a child psychologist and Cruz thought she would make a great asset; it would seem though that Agent Hotchner doesn’t agree.
Aaron Hotchner x (Fem) Reader
Angst
Word count: 3134
Guys...I feel like this is shit, I wrote it in like 3 hours soo…. it’s not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!
Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, implied age gap, some language, one use of y/n I think, Hotch is a DICK in this for a minute (SORRY), reader has children, talk of dissociative identity disorder (in reference to a case), canon case talk/info, mention of murder (in reference to a case), Reader in a child psychologist, reader is friends with Director Mateo Cruz, implied death of Haley. I think that’s all, let me know if I missed anything!!
I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.
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You were so late. You were thanking the lord that you knew Mateo well from having previously worked with him, otherwise your lateness would probably come across as a lack of seriousness or appreciation for the strings he had pulled to get you here. And of course, being lost in thought while simultaneously rushing through an unfamiliar building had you barreling into a handsome stranger…or maybe a handsome acquaintance.
“I am so sorry!” You’d hurried out.
His large hands steadied you with a gentle but firm grasp on your arms. Your eyes glance upward to meet his.
“No worries, are you alright?” He offered.
“I’m good thank you. Wait, you’re Aaron Hotchner, I’ve sat in on a few of your lectures at the university.”
“I am, and thank you, I hope you were able to take something from them.”  He blushed.
“I did, oh shoot sorry! I have to go; I am so late!” You said, speed walking away from him.
Aaron couldn’t help but watch as you walked away from him. And you couldn’t help but think to yourself that he was far more handsome up close.
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After explaining your tardiness to Mateo, he led you to the sixth floor to officially meet your new team. The rest of them anyway.
“Mat, you told them I was joining right? I ran into Agent Hotchner, and he didn’t show any signs of recognition. And I told you I didn’t want to join a team who wasn’t ready and willing to have me.” You ranted.
“Yes I told him, you have nothing to worry about.” He lied. “You head down into the bullpen and meet the agents; I will go up and talk to Agent Hotchner.”
You nodded in agreement and made your way to Emily and Spencer.  You exchanged greetings, and Emily took you around to meet everyone else.
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“Director Cruz, what can I do for you?” Hotch asked.
“I have a new recruit for you. She will be starting today.” Mateo gestured toward the window.
Aaron glanced out, finding the beautiful woman from this morning standing amongst his team. Morgan must’ve tried to harm her because she threw her head back in laughter with the most beautiful smile. Why her? Why did she have to be joining his team?
“Why didn’t I receive her file?”
“Truthfully Aaron, I didn’t have it together. She and I have worked together on some classified cases. But I have a file here with some of her info.  She specializes in child psychology which is something your team is lacking, I figured that she could work with your team on all of your child related cases, but then can occasionally consult with other teams should they need her expertise.” Mateo explained.
“Okay.”
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It had been three months since then, and things had not been going well. You had gone on all but one case with the BAU since you’d started. Every single time, Aaron kept you at the local precincts, not allowing you out on any real field work – this was hindering your ability to do your job effectively. You needed to observe the unsub’s home and belongings and dumpsites etc. but he was denying you the opportunity.
The rest of the team had been nothing but welcoming, inviting you into their little family with open arms. None of them could have predicted that Hotch would ice you out the way he was.
Every time you offered a theory or statistic or any sort of information, Hotch shut you down. He would belittle you, constantly making you feel small, and he purposely called you agent instead of referring to you as doctor and well, why should today be any different.
You had been called out on a case and based on all the information the team had acquired so far, you had a pretty good working theory.
JJ, Spencer, and you had been sitting in the room the local precinct had designated as yours for the duration of the case.
“I have an idea…it’s a little out there but hear me out,” You started, your gaze shifting to JJ and Spencer, who both encouraged you to continue. “Okay, so some of the details in this case match, while others are all over the place, like the MO is essentially the same but some of the victims’ injuries show signs of hesitation where others show none, I know hotch mentioned multiple unsubs, but what if it is one unsub, with multiple personalities.”
“Like dissociative identity disorder. You know that would make a lot of sense considering people with DID tend to have highly varying alters or identities. They can range in race, gender, age which would explain why the murders have been so different, it would also explain why the comfort zone is so small.” Spencer validated you.
“See that’s what I was thinking too, they would want to stay close to home in the case that perhaps there was a switch in alter, that way they would be somewhere familiar and be able to return home…”
“That’s enough Agent!” Hotch’s voice boomed through the small room. “I have put up with this for far too long. You came in here unannounced and have continued to provide absolutely ridiculous theories that do nothing but waste our time and resources…”
“Hotch” JJ tried to calm him.
He lifted his hand to silence her before continuing, “You have continued to get in the way of my investigations again and again and I won’t have it anymore. Cruz spoke so highly of you and frankly I don’t see it. I’m sorry if I’m the first one to tell you this agent, but perhaps you should stick to what you know.” Hotch finished.
There was no way in hell that you were going to let yourself cry in front of this asshole. You refused to let him win in this moment.
“You know what Agent Hotchner, I have done nothing but work my ass off for this team and I have provided valuable feedback and information that has led to the capture of multiple unsubs over the last few months. But if you want to sit up there on your high horse and act all delusional, go ahead. I don’t want to be a part of a team who is led by someone so pompous and misogynistic. And one last thing, if you are going to sit there and berate me then you will address me properly. It’s Doctor, not agent…I know that may be hard to remember since it’s a title you don’t hold. Goodnight.” With that you grabbed your jacket and bag and made your way outside.
You ordered an uber and made your way back to the hotel. The nerve Hotch seemed to have filled you with rage, but you wouldn’t stick around to entertain his outburst any longer, you had a call to make.
“Hello?”
“Mat, I need a flight home.” You said, the tears finally beginning to fall.
“Is everything okay? What happened?” Mateo questioned.
“It’s fine, I just have a personal emergency and I need to get home as soon as possible.”
“Sure thing, I am booking your flight now, can you be at the airport in two hours?” He asked.
“Yes, that’s perfect. Thank you.”
With that you hung up the phone, packed your bag, ordered another uber and made your way outside. You were purposely ignoring the texts coming in from Spencer and JJ. You made sure to slide a note under Spence’s door before leaving.
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“Has anyone seen y/n this morning?” Dave asked.
“She left.” Spencer confirmed, holding up the note.
“What why? Is she okay?” Emily asked, concern laced in her tone.
“I can’t blame her. You guys should have seen it, Hotch yelled at her. And I mean full on yelled. I’ve never heard him speak that way to anyone before.” JJ chimed in.
“What are you talking about? He yelled at her. About what?” Morgan questioned.
“He completely flew off the handle. She and Spence were going over a theory about the unsub and he just started yelling, telling her that she was wasting our time and resources.”
The team was in disbelief, Hotch wasn’t mean or condescending, so why was he acting this way now? How could he treat arguably the sweetest member of the team so disrespectfully?
Dave shook his head; he was pretty sure he knew exactly why Aaron was acting out this way. He just couldn’t believe that Aaron had said such harsh things to the girl. His heart broke for her knowing that someone she idolized had been so awful to her, and for all the wrong reasons.
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The team had wrapped up that case fairly quickly, you had been right, and the unsub turned out to be a nineteen-year-old male who had been struggling with dissociative identity disorder. Hotch had felt uneasy knowing that he had questioned your intelligence, despite you being an excellent agent.
Upon returning to the BAU, Dave was sure to confront Aaron about his inappropriate behavior.  Telling him that he couldn’t treat you terribly just because he couldn’t wrap his brain around the feelings for you he was refusing to acknowledge. Aaron had scoffed at him and told him that he didn’t have feelings for you, but Dave knew he was lying.
You had quite a different experience since returning. The first thing you did was cry, you let yourself release all the pent-up frustration you’d been holding onto since you had started at the BAU. Then, you texted Mat, letting him know that you needed to meet with him.
He was curious and waiting for answers, but he ultimately agreed and waited to ask all his questions until you were face to face.
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“So, what’s up? This meeting request was so formal.” Mat laughed.
“I know and I am sorry I have been so vague about everything, but I am here to resign.”
Mat’s smile fell from his face immediately.
“What happened? Did something happen, because I promise you I have looked into the complaints filed against Agent Morgan and Ms. Garcia and I can assure you, they just have a strange friendship.” Mateo tried to explain.
“Mat, slow down! It isn’t like that. I just don’t think it is a good fit, there’s just too many differences between how I work and how the team operates. It’s okay really.” You tried to smile to really sell your lie.
“Well, I can’t help but be disappointed, I really thought that you would be a perfect fit for this team.” Mateo trailed off.
“I know and I am so sorry. I know you had to pull a ton of strings to get me here and I don’t want it to seem like I am not grateful because I can assure you, I am!”
“I know, and it’s alright! If it’s not a good fit then it’s not a good fit.” Mateo flashed you a sad smile.
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A few weeks had passed since you had left the BAU, and truly, you had been doing well! You had spent some much-needed time with your family. You had reached out to a good friend of yours and inquired about a job teaching at the local university, which you were truly looking forward to. It had also meant that you would have a free summer to spend some quality time with your kids.
Tonight, you had one of your best friends over, your kids had grown up together and so you liked to do these big “family” dinners together at least once a month, that however meant chaos in the house. Kids yelling, teenagers gossiping, dinner burning…I guess that means you’ll be ordering a pizza.
Your friend and you had been talking about your new job and the excitement you were feeling for it, a movie long forgotten playing in the background, the kids were playing some card game you didn’t recognize when the doorbell rang.
“Oh, I bet that’s the pizza!” You said, making your way to the door.
“I left the cash on the table there!” Your friend shouted.
“Hi…Oh. What the hell are you doing here?” Shock painted its way across your face. Standing at your door was not the pizza delivery guy, but Aaron Hotchner.
“I uh, I came here to talk to you. I know that I do not deserve your time, but I am truly hoping you’ll allow me a few minutes to explain myself.”
“Dude, do you need help or…oh, shit. Sorry! Did you guys need a minute?” Your friend interrupted.
“Um” your gaze shifted from Aaron to your friend. “Agent Hotchner, why don’t we go to the back. Can you keep an eye out for the pizza?” You suggested.
“Of course! You go.” She replied.
Aaron and you made your way to the backyard, in doing so he took note of all the children sitting in the living room, sprawled out across the floor and couches.
“I didn’t know you had children.” Aaron started.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me. Is that why you came here agent Hotchner? To see my home and profile me?” You questioned him.
“No of course not! I was making an observation. I’m sorry. Like I said, I am here to explain my behavior, none of which will excuse how I acted but I am hoping it might help you to understand some of it.” His gaze shifted around your face. “From the moment I first laid my eyes on you, I knew I was ruined. You were breathtaking, even when you plowed right into me in your rush to the director’s office. You bumped into me and God, then you looked up at me with those big, beautiful eyes and I was a goner. But then you said something to me, and I knew I was done for. Do you remember what you said?”
“I apologized and then I told you I’d gone to some of your lectures. Hold on Agent Hotchner are you saying you were horrible to me because you had a crush on me? What are we? Seven-year-olds on the playground! That is such bullshi….” He didn’t let you finish.
“Hold on. You did mention that you had been to my lectures, but it was what you said as you walked away that had me hooked…you said, “he’s far more handsome up close” and I don’t think you meant to say it out loud, but at that moment I told myself that I was ready. I was ready to move on and I was going to ask you out later that day, but then you walked into the bullpen and Cruz said you’d be a part of the BAU, and I knew it wouldn’t be possible. I couldn’t date my subordinate and I didn’t know what to do, you had called me handsome and I…”
“Now wait a minute! I didn’t mean to say that out loud and this still isn’t…”
“I’m not finished. You had some sort of attraction for me even if it was just an appreciation for my looks. I already had it bad for you, and to top it all off, you came in and just had to be the sweetest, most loving person in the BAU and I couldn’t have you. It wouldn’t be appropriate. I figured the easiest thing to do would be to make you hate me, then I’d be able to shake these feelings for you, but no. You continued to be kind to me, even if I was awful to you and I couldn’t take it. My breaking point was the look on your face after I yelled at you on that last case. I felt sick with myself. I couldn’t leave things like that; I needed you to know that I don’t think those things. You are an incredible agent and an even better person and I’m sorry. I am so sorry.” Aaron finished, looking down at his shoes.
You were speechless. While it felt amazing that the man you had harbored feelings for, returned your feelings. It also felt terrible that he wasn’t mature enough to just be upfront with you from the beginning. Instead, he felt the need to play some arduous game with you. It would be so easy to just throw yourself into his embrace and kiss him and call it all forgotten, but what if this is some insight into his communication skills, or lack thereof?
Your mind and heart were battling one another like an angel and devil on your shoulder. It was a back-and-forth quarrel that seemingly had no correct response, both had the same potential outcomes; you getting your heart broken, regret, potential happiness. What were you meant to do?
“I um, I don’t know what to say. You said some horrible things to me and that doesn’t just go away. Agen Hotchner, we’re adults.”
“Please call me Aaron, or at least Hotch.”
“Aaron we are adults and you acted like a child. Am I meant to just forgive and forget the way you made me feel?”
“No, I would never expect that. I do hope that one day you can forgive me, and if you give me the chance, I would truly love to make it up to you.” He explained.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” He questioned.
“Okay, you can make it up to me. And maybe, just maybe I will forgive you. It’s not going to be easy though.” You said.
“I wouldn’t want it to be easy.” He smiled.
“Alright well you can start tomorrow. I’d invite you to stay but this is a family dinner and with all the kids it might be a bit chaotic.” You told him.
“That’s fair.”
You could see the wheels turning in his head, he’s trying to figure out the dynamics of your little family, and maybe you could spare him a little bit of leeway.
“Her and I combined have nine kids. I have five and she has four. And before you ask, only two are biologically mine. A close friend of ours passed and I was listed as the personal guardian for her kids. That’s also how I have a teenager.” You explained. “That’s all you get for now.” You teased.
“I will take what I can get. Thank you, for giving me this chance.” Aaron smiled at you.
You smiled back and led him to the door, not missing the shit-eating grin your friend was wearing on her face. You bid him goodnight with a promise to text him to make some sort of plan. You didn’t know what would come of this, or if you’d end up together, but for now, you didn’t need to know. For now, you’d take it one day at a time.
555 notes · View notes
redocity · 1 month
Note
Evan Buckley x fiancée reader
Reader and Evan are recently engaged. Reader gets shot by the sniper instead of Eddie, Buck gets covered in her blood and attempts to save her (like the episode) and then just go from there please ❤️‍🩹. Please include lots of angst, sadness and happiness too 🫶
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EMERGENCY ROOM - E.BUCKLEY
after a completely normal day on the job, you get shot seemingly out of nowhere. buck does not handle it well.
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WARNINGS: spoilers for 04x13 and 04x14, established relationship, major character injury, blood, guns, buck is on the verge of a mental breakdown for most of it
buck x fiancée!reader II flangst Il 4.2k Il requests open!
a/n: i had so much fun writing the little fluffy bits at the beginning and the end i love them your honour
₊ ⊹ masterlist!!
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“I know right?” You finally had a few minutes to fawn over your newest accessory now that you’d managed to secure Charlie away from his mother and get him into an ambulance, holding your left arm up in front of you and wiggling your fingers to show off the shiny rock on your ring finger towards Eddie. “Who would’ve thought he was so focused on the details?”
“Hey!” Buck nudges you as he walks past, shaking his head with a smile. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“People like you aren’t exactly known for their ‘detail orientation’ Buck,” Eddie laughs as he walks past him, pushing his head with the palm of his hand. “Good job on defying expectations,”
“Hey I am plenty detail oriented thank you,” gestures outwards exasperatedly, glancing at you for backup for his statement. You give him nothing more than a shrug of your shoulders.
“Shannon was the same when I bought her ring don’t worry,” Eddie pats Buck’s shoulder. “Went on this whole rant about how she never expected me to put so much thought into how it looked, I think it’s just a girl thing,”
“It’s not-” You scoff, putting a hand up in front of him in absolute astoundment. “I am trying to show my appreciation for the thought that went into making this ring fit my preferences, and you are making me feel disrespected,”
You point between the two boys in exaggerated disappointment, turning your face away from the two with a click of your tongue and a shake of your head.
“Oh come on baby seriously?” Evan sighs dramatically, crossing his arms over his chest and letting his head fall back until he’s facing the sky.
“You’ve hitched your wagon to a tank,” Eddie pats Buck’s shoulder once more, and the two share a short laugh.
“I’m gonna ride with Charlie to the hospital, you two good to get back to the station and tell Bobby?” Buck nods towards Eddie, giving him a small nudge towards the ambulance. “Yeah go ahead, we got it from here,”
“Thanks,” He returns Buck’s nod and then sends a finger salute in your direction. “See you later Mrs. Buckley, try not to kill him before the wedding,”
You laugh shortly at Eddie’s jest, shaking your head. “See you Eddie, give us a call if anything happens,”
“Will do!” He shoots the two of you a wave as he jogs towards the ambulance, climbing inside before the doors get shut behind him.
“Mrs Buckley,” Buck takes a few steps forward to grasp gently at your hips and pull you close to his chest, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I could get used to the sound of that,”
You give a soft hum as his lips press to your temple, turning your face upwards to kiss him properly. “I’d hope so,”
You pull out of his grasp with a soft laugh, pressing the keys to the paramedic car against Buck’s chest for him to take before actually beginning to walk towards the vehicle.
“We’ll have to get you a new turnout jacket too,” Buck follows behind you with a smile etched onto his face, eyes scanning over the last name printed on the back of your jacket. One you wouldn’t have for much longer.
“It’d be pretty confusing to have two Buckleys in the same station, the jacket might have to stay,” You turn around to face him once more with a smile of your own, arms crossed across your chest. “We’ll know the truth though,”
You shoot Buck a wink and he laughs, stopping a few feet in front of you and mirroring the way your arms are crossed with his own. “Are you saying that I can’t show off the fact that you’ll have my last name to every single stranger we meet on the job? Because I don’t know if that’s gonna fly with me,”
“I’m sure you’ll find an excuse to let them know, you’ve got a talent-” Your retort is halted by a sharp sound, then a searing pain in your right shoulder, and then you can feel yourself tumble to the floor as your legs give out underneath you under no will of your own.
Buck flinches as you do, a mix of shock from the noise and an instinctual reaction to the splatter that covers side of his face and stripes of his button down shirt.
Then it feels like the world just stops. Buck stands there with wide eyes as he watches you hit the pavement, in an awake state of sleep paralysis as a pool of blood begins to seep onto the pavement and stain the tarmac red underneath you.
He wanted to shout, to run, to move, Anything.
But he couldn’t so much as curl his hands into fists as he stood stationary in shock, eyes wide and locked onto where you’d crumpled into yourself on the concrete.
It took one of the other firefighters on the scene physically tackling him down to the ground for him to move, and even then his eyes never left yours, just barely open as you slip in an out of consciousness.
“Get down!” Mehta yelled across the group of vehicles as he pulled Buck behind one of the trucks, covering him with his own body as he tried to radio for help. “Shots fired. Shots fired a firefighter is down. I repeat, a firefighter is down!”
Buck can feel himself hyperventilate, his hearing going quiet until the sounds of the civilians nearby are drowned out and replaced with his own racing heartbeat. He watches as your hand crawls forward along the pavement in his direction as if silently trying to confirm to him that you were okay, but the far away look in your eyes wasn’t reassuring him at all.
Then your eyelids fluttered and you weren’t looking at him anymore, your hand left still in front of you with the stones on your finger glinting in the sunlight like a sick taunt of Buck’s anguish.
Shots continued to rain over the fire engines, and as Mehta moved from Buck to radio dispatch again he mustered all of the strength he physically could under the rush of adrenaline in his system to make a break for where you were laying, crawling underneath the bed of the truck as cover as he watched you roll from your side onto your back. “Come on baby! I’m coming I got you!”
You groan through the pain as you roll over, still conscious despite the agony raging through your shoulder and down the rest of your arm as you squint your eyes from the harsh sunlight.
Buck gets as far out as he can without exposing himself to the raining shots, grasping at your wrist as soon as he’s close enough and tugging until you’re dragged under the engine and onto the other side protected by the metal of the truck.
The friction sends another sharp wave of pain through your body, a sharp yell leaving your throat as you’re dragged across the concrete.
“Get her in the cabin! Quickly!” Mehta and a few other firefighters from station 133 rush to open and prep the back of the truck to cover you inside, and Buck pulls you into a fireman’s hold over his shoulder as quickly — and carefully — as he can to secure you safely.
Another shot is fired in the group’s direction as you’re pulled out of Buck’s hold and onto the seats, shattering the glass of the window and only further hastening the efforts of the firefighters as everyone clambers into the truck to rush away from the scene, leaving the paramedics car you’d driven over in erupted in flames on the side of the road.
“Okay, we got you, we got you you’re okay,” Buck lays you down across the back of the truck with help from one of the paradmedic’s from station 133 with panic written all over his face, continuing to speak reassurances to you in haste, mostly trying to reassure himself that you would be alright.
He rips open the top of your uniform shirt, paying no mind to the buttons that are pulled from their stitching in his haste to cover your gunshot wound in gauze and stop it from bleeding out. “We got you baby you’re okay, just- just stay with me okay?”
Your vision is blurry as you blink up at him, and you can vaguely hear Mehta calling for a trauma unit on standby as you attempt to lift your head slightly to clear your vision of Buck’s face. “…Are you hurt? There’s a lot of blood..”
Buck follows your eyes as they trail down the stains covering the front of his torso, and he shakes his head quickly as he brushes a stray strand of hair from your face. “No no no, I’m good baby, you just hang on for me okay?”
The hand that’s not stopping your wound from bleeding all over the place moves to cup the side of your face, thumb brushing over your cheek softly, a stark contrast to the way he practically barks at the driver of the truck to hurry up.
You barely manage to lift up your arm to cover his hand with your own over your cheek, shaking your head slightly under his palm. “You shouldn’t shout at people…”
“I know baby I’m sorry-” He takes a sharp breath in as he turns his attention back to focusing on you and not on the fact he felt like this drive was taking forever.
The paramedic in the back helps to stabilise your head as you start to slip out of consciousness again, and buck rubs his thumb over your cheekbone to get you to keep your eyes on his. “Hey, three minutes away, you’re so close, I just need you to hang-”
It wasn’t working very well.
The paramedic preps and secures an oxygen mask over your mouth as your eyes start to flutter closed.
“I just need you to hang on…please…”
This wasn’t what was supposed to happen.
He’d just asked you to marry him, you were supposed to be spending the evening celebrating.
You were supposed to get married and have children and grow old together.
Not get shot and bleed out in the back of a fire truck.
Buck jumps out of the vehicle the minute it stops in the hospital, practically screaming for the doctors to come and get you out.
“Through and through, upper torso,” Mehta explains your injury with just as much panic as Buck, although remains decidedly more collected as he barrels out of the front to watch you get pulled onto a gurney. “Large caliber-”
“We’ve got transfusion ready-” One of the nurses gives Mehta a nod before stopping as she takes in the last part of the explanation. “Did you say large caliber?”
“It was a sniper-”
“Pulse is weak! Trauma bay 2, quickly!” The medical team rush with you on the gurney towards the entrance of the hospital’s emergency unit with Buck watching on like everything was happening in slow motion. “Let’s set up for a thoracotomy-”
“Buckley, are you okay?” Mehta looks over at Buck with concern written all over his face as he examines the stains of your blood covering his face, torso, and hands, and Buck waves him off with nothing but a dismissive nod as an answer as his eyes remain locked on the door you disappear into, the the 133 firefighters, Mehta included, following after you inside.
He was not okay.
“Hey,” Eddie approached Buck carefully, but he still jumped at his voice anyhow. Eddie gave a short sigh through furrowed eyebrows, face contorting in concern. “She’s gonna be okay man, she’s strong, you know that don’t you?”
Eddie placed his hand slowly on Buck’s shoulder, immediately able to feel the trembling in his hands that traveled up his arms and into his back. “She was standing right in front of me I-”
“Hey.” Eddie swerved Buck to look at him, shaking his head. “This was not your fault. Nobody knows what happened. When’s going to be alright, you’ve just gotta put faith in her,”
Buck took a series of short, staggered breaths through his nose with a small nod, clasping his hands together to keep them from shaking. “I need to change- And have a shower-”
“You need to take a second to breathe,”
“You don’t get it I-” Buck exhales heavily, his eyes flickering as he turns to face Eddie. “I can still feel it under my fingernails and no matter how many times I wash my hands it won’t go away-”
“Okay slow down for a second,” Eddie raises his hand up to stop Buck from falling into a spiral. “You can’t go home alone like this, you’re not okay,”
“I don’t know what to do-”
“Alright, you’re coming back with me, come on,” Eddie pats Buck’s shoulder, guiding him through the parking lot towards his car.
A sniper who was specifically targeting firefighters, who would’ve thought.
Being sent back out into the field wearing bullet proof vests and swat protection didn’t feel any more secure than proceeding unprotected Buck thinks. If they were going to get shot with a bullet proof vest on then the sniper would just aim for somewhere not covered by the vest.
And it only proved to remind him that you didn’t have the protection you needed when you were shot. Why should he be surrounded by swat agents and covered in kevlar when you weren’t afforded the same luxury.
You ‘took one for the team’ as people would say. But you shouldn’t have had to. Why you?
It was such a selfish thought, but he would’ve rathered any other firefighter on the scene get shot as long as it wasn’t you. He’d’ve rathered get shot himself than it being you.
But apparently the universe was conspiring against him, making him watch and suffer from the sidelines as everything he cared about got ruined one by one.
Maybe that was why he was so reckless. Maybe that was why he climbed the crane with zero protection when he knew he could’ve been shot at from any of the windows of the surrounding skyscrapers and loose his own life whilst still debating how he would live if you lost yours.
He could see the look Bobby gave him as he was lowered down to the ground again, preparing himself for another scolding about him being ‘reckless’ once they got back to the station.
But it never came.
In fact, Bobby didn’t speak to him at all.
“Are you gonna say anything to me?”
Bobby puts down the chopping knife with a sigh, turning around to see Buck leant against the kitchenette sink. “I don’t know Buck, what would you like me to say?”
“Uh… I mean- I mean usually it’s- ‘what were you thinking?’ or ‘that was reckless’ or my… personal favourite ‘you could’ve been killed’.”
“It doesn’t seem like I need to have that conversation, you know it by heart already.” Bobby gestures exasperatedly before picking the knife back up to continue chopping the onion on the table in front of him. “And still, you went full Buck.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing-” Buck approaches Bobby slowly, arms braced over his stomach in a self-soothing fashion.
Bobby sighs once more as Buck doesn’t drop the conversation, giving up his chopping to put his full attention on Buck. “You’ll never be the guy who thinks before he acts. And i’ve learned to come to terms with that,”
”In part because I realised I don’t have a choice, you’re never gonna change,” Bobby gestures outwards with his hands before clasping them together. “But also because… I know no matter what actions you take, no matter how dangerous or impulsive they may be, they come from your heart because you care.”
“Wow, uh, thank you,” Buck gives a soft chuckle as he claps his fist into his hand, clearly happy that he wasn’t getting a scolding this time around.
“Today was not that.” Bobby paused for a second before continuing. “You didn’t get caught up in some moment and rush in where angels fear to tread, you made a deliberate choice to make yourself a target.”
“Yeah.” Buck shrugs his shoulders exasperatedly. “I made myself a target because I wasn’t gonna let any of you guys take that risk because I cannot handle anyone else getting hurt right now.”
“And what about her? How do you think she would feel if she wakes up in the hospital to find out you got yourself killed because you weren’t being careful?”
Buck didn’t really have an answer to that question.
“You have responsibilities Buck. You have a responsibility to this team, you have a responsibility to your fiancée, and most importantly you have a responsibility to yourself.” Bobby shakes his head disappointedly, crossing his arms over his chest. “You cannot keep putting yourself in reckless situations Buckley because there are people around you that need you alive.”
Buck exhales heavily, biting the inside of his cheek. “Look I couldn’t protect her from getting shot, but today? I had an opportunity to protect the rest of you. So I did.”
Bobby sighs as he turns back to the half diced onion, finishing chopping it slowly. “We are a team, and we’re supposed to protect each other.”
There’s a small moment of silence before Bobby turns to look at Buck for a final time, a stern expression on his face, although lingering traces of gracefulness simmer into the wrinkles by his eyes. “Don’t do it again.”
The doctors said the surgery went well. It was probably one of the most relieving moments of his life.
He didn’t have time to visit you immediately though, the team had to go on a call out first.
And of course, because nothing was ever easy, the man who’d called 911 from the fire was also the sniper who was targeting firefighters.
Bobby ended up with a pistol shot to his abdomen, and after helping Athena get into the building dressed in firefighter gear to subdue the sniper the team headed straight to the hospital, now with two team members induced for bullet wounds instead of just one.
Bobby’s was much less severe than yours, but he was still put in for surgery, and Buck decided that it was a good time to visit you down the hall in the recovery unit.
You were still unconscious when he arrived, and it physically pained him to see you hooked up to so many machines as he took a seat at your bedside.
“Hey baby…” He took your limp hand in his own, fingers brushing over your knuckles and the ring still resting on your finger. “The doctors said that your surgery went well… So you should wake up soon…”
He lets out a small stunted exhale as he lifts your hand up to his mouth to press a kiss to your fingers. “I was so worried about you… God you scared me half to death-”
He continues to fiddle aimlessly with your fingers as he recounts the events of what happened to your sleeping self, how he risked his life, how Athena ran into a burning building to find Bobby and how he’d been bothering Eddie and Christopher for the last few days so he wouldn’t have to be on his own.
He told you how he’d moved the reservation of your engagement dinner so you wouldn’t have to miss it, laughing softly to himself at how excited you were to go to that specific resturaunt and try everything they had to offer.
He stayed after regular visitor hours were over, using his position as your fiancé to stay just a little while longer as a priority visitor, not wanting to miss the moment you woke up.
He ended up missing it anyway.
You woke up slowly, eyes fluttering open to the florescent lighting and the rhythmic beeping of the heart rate monitor.
The most prominent thing though, was an added weight on your left thigh, right near your stomach.
A mop of sandy blond hair is what meets your sight first, then your follow it down to his broad shoulders and his back, awkwardly bent forward in his chair to lay his weight on top of you. Then you noticed your hands caged together, his fingers intertwined with yours and held close to his chest.
The sight makes your heart melt a little, and you smile softly as you achily pull your right hand over to thread your fingers through his hair.
He stirs almost immediately, and you can feel his eyelashes brush against your thigh through the thin hospital bedsheets as he pushes himself upwards slowly until he’s supporting his own weight again.
“Hi baby…”
Buck lets out a short breath as your voice meets his ears, features flooded with relief. “Hi…”
You mirror the smile that breaks onto his face with your own, expression still laced with fatigue but also filled with your absolute love for him. He’d really stayed with you in the hospital for so long he’d fallen asleep.
“How’re you feeling?” Buck’s gaze flickers from your face to your bandaged right arm, and you give him a small shake of your head to dismiss his worries.
“I’m okay, takes more than puny bullet to put me out of commission,” You give him a soft wink and he gives you a little chuckles in return.
“You’re one tough lady…” he leans forward towards you until your foreheads brush against each other and your noses bump together. “I’m glad you’re okay…”
“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” You laugh softly, shaking your head against his and causing your noses to brush back and forth. “You put a ring on it remember?”
You pull back enough to flash your hand at him and show of your ring like he wasn’t the one who bought it for you.
He pulls your hand down into his lap without a care in the world for looking at the gemstone on your finger, his eyes not wavering from yours for even a second as he cups your face for a kiss, one filled with all the love and pain and anxiety and relief that he’d felt over the last few days.
“I love you so much-”
His lips leave you almost breathless, and you give his hand a soft squeeze. “I love you too Evan,”
He pulls you in for another kiss almost before you can even finish your sentence, and you laugh softly against his lips at the fervour. as you return his enthusiasm.
He shifts his hand down from your face closer to your neck as the kiss continues, and you groan against his mouth as it brushes a little too close to the brushing around your shoulder, pulling away with a hiss of pain.
“Ow ow ow-”
“Oh I’m so sorry-” Buck brings both his hands up away from you like he’s not exactly sure what to do with them, eyes wide in imminent panic of hurting you further.
The expression on his face sends you into a small for of giggles, and it’s enough to ease his panic back into calmness as you prove that he hadn’t actually hurt you.
“You always were a little rough with your hands,” You tilt your head against the pillow with an amused expression on your face, and it’s enough for him to crack a smile himself as you reach up your hand to pull his head back down towards yours.
Your lips connect more with his teeth than his own lips as you kiss him through his smile, and he laughs softly into your mouth at your statement. “You’ve never complained,”
“I never will complain,” You shake your head against his softly with a laugh of your own, one that’s cut off by his lips on yours once more.
All’s well that ends well he supposes.
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artiststarme · 5 months
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Part 1 of a new thing I’m working on. It only gets juicier from here! I hope you guys enjoy it and if you have any name ideas, please send them my way.
~*~*~*~
Steve was confused most of the time, everyone knew it. Especially since his run-ins with the Upside Down, he never had any idea what was happening. From not sensing the obvious when everyone else grabbed a flashlight to missing blatant social cues, it wasn’t unusual for something to go over his head. And yet, sitting on the little Byers’ floor of his bedroom while Will paced around in front of him, ranting to the air, was the most befuddled Steve had ever been.
Of all of the kids, Steve was never very close to Will. He was the shyest of all the kids and he didn’t seem to need an older role model like Dustin or Max did. He already had Jonathan and his mom, two people that would risk their lives to save him so he never really needed Steve. Don’t get him wrong, Steve loved the kid. He just didn’t have a bond with him the same way he did with the other kids. Nonetheless, when Will asked him for a quick word as Mrs. Byers spoke to El and Jonathan said his goodbyes to Nancy, Steve followed him to his bare room without complaint. He didn’t know what he expected, maybe some advice about girls or hobbies or maybe just Will asking him to look out for the other kids. Something expected, something mundane. But that’s not what Steve received.
Will stopped stalking back and forth, took a deep breath and said, “I’m gay.”
He cringed as he said the words, immediately losing his confidence and breaking eye contact with Steve. And Steve just blinked.
“Okay… Is that all?”
He didn’t really know how to answer that. It didn’t really matter to him if Will liked other dudes and it certainly didn’t change the way he saw the kid. It was still confusing that Will was choosing to tell HIM of all people, he had no idea what about him made everyone want to come out to him with Will being the second person to do so in as many days. But regardless, there was nothing that the kids could do that would make Steve turn on him.
It may not have been the most tactful way of voicing his acceptance but Will felt a weight lifted despite it. He knelt down to give a thankful hug to Steve who returned his hug awkwardly.
“Thanks Steve, I knew out of everyone that you would understand.” Steve was about to ask why he of all people would understand but Will continued, “No one else knows yet, not even Mike and uh… I really like him, Steve.”
All thoughts left Steve’s mind as he automatically started insulting Will’s taste. “Mike? Mike Wheeler? What the hell, dude. I have no problem with you liking guys but Mike? Jesus Christ, he’s like the worst person you could choose. His attitude sucks, he’s got beady little eyes full of anger, and he’s kind of a douche.”
Will looked stuck somewhere between amused and offended. “But… he’s my best friend? He’s always been there and I, I think I love him a little bit. What do I do?”
Steve sighed and put a heavy hand on his shoulder, his bruised face grimacing in sympathy. “You’re young so you have plenty of time to fall for other guys. Move on. Trust me, you do not want to date a Wheeler. Especially Mike. My god, kid, have a little taste. I can understand Nancy but Mike? No way.”
“But, but you’re sure you’re okay with me… being gay. I like boys, not girls,” Will prodded.
“I know what it means, Byers. It doesn’t change anything. Liking boys doesn’t make you any different and you’re still another one of the runts to me, alright?” He ducked his head to meet Will’s eyes and only when he nodded did he put space between him. “Good. You have nothing to worry about when it comes to me. I’ll always be here if you need me.”
“Can I call you? After we move to California?” Will asked with trepidation.
“Hell yeah, I’ll be around. You can call me, El can call me, hell even Jonathan can call me if he wants.”
That last part got him a weird look in response. “... you want Jonathan to call you?”
“I mean, sure, if he wants to. He probably won’t because I’m no Nancy and we’re not really friends but it would be nice to have people calling,” Steve shrugged and ignored Will’s look of appall.
“I thought you wouldn’t like Jonathan because he stole your girlfriend.”
He frowned, “nah, there were other things wrong between Nance and I long before your brother came around. He’s pretty cool and he’s got an awesome little brother too, what’s not to like?”
Will smiled and they sat in silence for a few moments before Steve cleared his throat, said his last goodbyes, and made his way home. He slunk back to bed to sleep off the oncoming migraine and pain in his beaten face. Steve didn’t think much more about Will’s admission or their emotional conversation. Instead, he focused on the warm feeling in his chest that came with two people trusting him enough to be honest to him, to be themselves without fear around him. Robin and Will were the first people who trusted him with something important beyond reputation or popularity. It made him feel like he was finally doing something right, like he had finally moved past all of the King Steve bullshit and he’d never felt better about it.
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on-my-vigilante-sht · 4 months
Text
Mine
Luke Castellan x Reader
Requested by: @officiallenalove like imagine the reader is like a daughter of Poseidon and we know he’s not around most of the time and she meets Luke and they like fall in love but she’s never known what healthy love looks like so it’s low key angsty but happy at the same time yk?
Summary: "You are the best thing that's ever been mine"
Warning: crappy parents, angst, self doubt
Word Count: 2k
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A/N Sorry this took so long I had a hard time choosing which lyrics/moments I wanted to write
You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter
Godly parents were always deadbeats. It was just a fact of half-blood life. But after spending years thinking I had no father, I was thrilled to have been claimed by Poseidon. It was naïve of me to think that just because he claimed me he’d be a good father just because I knew of his existence. I spent night after night praying to him, looking for some sense of guidance from him but never receiving anything. Eventually I learned not to bother with him or anyone else.
My mom had let me down enough times that I knew it wasn’t just gods that let you down. When she finally told me about my father she told me I’d be moving to a strange place. Not for my safety but because she didn’t want to take care of the daughter of the god that broke her heart. She complained endlessly on the drive over that my father never even bothered to offer her immortality, rather last she heard of him he was falling in love with another woman on Long Island.
She was dead to me after she dumped me at camp with hardly a goodbye. And then my father was dead to me when I begged for his help but received nothing.
~
I was a flight risk, with a fear of fallin' / Wondering why we bother with love, if it never lasts
Most of the other campers felt the same about their godly parents but it seemed like the only one who really understood was Luke.
“I mean, it’s like we’re nothing to them,” Luke ranted to me. We rant to each other a lot. “We’re just byproducts of their mistakes.”
“Gods, I hate men,” I groaned, lying back in the grass of the green. “Are all fathers this shitty?” I asked, looking up at Luke. I squinted into the sun as I peered at him accusingly. He moved his hand to block the sun from my eyes.
“I wouldn’t know from personal experience but I wouldn’t be this shitty,” he smiled cheekily down at me. He moved to lay back too, resting on his elbow. “I’d never abandon you.”
I could feel my chest tighten and I hoped it wasn’t apparent on my face. I just laughed, gently pushing his chest in a playful manner, hoping I was sparing him any embarrassment by making him think I thought he was joking. “You wish. You’d probably leave once the first diaper change comes.” I couldn’t even begin to consider loving him—or anyone—enough to feel abandoned by him. Thanks to my parents I felt more than enough abandonment.
He gave me a forced laugh as I sat up. “Yeah probably. I’d just be the fun dad.”
~
Do you remember, we were sittin' there by the water? / You put your arm around me for the first time
Later that day I found myself sitting on the beach of the Long Island Sound. The ocean was always sort of a sore spot for me because it was just a reminder of my father but it still felt calming. Like I belonged despite my father’s indifference.
As I stared out into the sound, zoning out, I let my mind wander to the conversation I had with Luke. That wasn’t the first time he had tried to hint at his feelings and he was a great guy but I couldn’t trust him. I didn’t have faith that he—or anyone for that matter—wouldn’t just let me down. How could I trust I wouldn’t let him down.
I was interrupted from my thoughts by the man himself. “Hey, can we talk?” he asked, coming to stand next to me. I just wordlessly gestured for him to sit next to me. He complied, taking a few breaths before looking at me. “I’m just gonna come right out and day it: I like you,” he rushed. “You don’t have to like me back or anything but I need to know that you know.”
I stared at him, my mouth agape. I hadn’t expected his boldness. “Um…” I had to take a second to structure my thoughts. “Luke, you’re a great guy. Any girl would be lucky to have you but you don’t want me.”
“Actually, I do I just said it,” he chuckled, trying to release some tension.
I laughed with him. “No, I mean I don’t think I can give you what you want. I’m not the best with feelings and I’m not entirely convinced that you, and everyone else in my life, won’t just leave me when it’s convenient.”
“Hey,” Luke chided gently, throwing an arm over my shoulder to bring me closer, “I meant what I said I'm not gonna abandon you. And if you’re scared, that’s fine, we can take this slow. If you really just don’t want a relationship that’s fine. I’ll still be by your side no matter what.”
Tears pricked my eyes at how thoughtful and caring he was being. Fortunately he couldn’t see them because my head was resting on his shoulder. “Okay,” I agreed, “I want to try taking things slow with you.” His grip on me tightened as he held me a little closer, like he was so excited you just have to squeeze something.
~
Braced myself for the goodbye / 'Cause that's all I've ever known
Things were great for a few months. Every time I began to doubt our relationship, Luke was there to help me. Giving me constant assurances and telling me how much he loved me. So much so that I started to feel like a burden to him. Like I was just a task he had to get through every week.
“Hey,” Luke announced his presence as he entered my cabin, “I haven’t seen you all day, what’s up?” he asked, looking around the cabin.
“J-just a second!” I called from a storage closet. I quickly wiped my tears and steeled myself, willing myself to look normal. Realizing he’d be wondering why I was in the closet, I grabbed a random blanket from one of the shelves. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of the closet with a smile. “Hey.”
His face immediately dropped. “What’s wrong?”
Curse my puffy eyes. “Nothing,” I answered. He approached me but I just slid past him, dropping the blanket onto my bunk. “Why?”
“Your eyes are all red. What’s wrong?” he asked again. Once again trying to touch me but I just backed away.
“Must be dust or something in the closet,” I tried to dismiss.
His face hardened. “C’mon, Y/N I know something’s wrong. I don’t want you to hide things from me. I want to take care of you.”
At his words the dam broke and all the thoughts and feelings I had been dealing with bubbled over. “I don't want you to have to take care of me!” A look of hurt appeared on his face and my heart ached for him. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, I do. I just don’t think it’s fair to you to have to comfort me whenever anything little happens. It’s pathetic,” I spat at myself.
“Hey, no, you’re not pathetic,” Luke assured me.
“You’re not listening to me,” I insisted. “How can you possibly want to be with me when I do nothing but drain you?” I stared at him, waiting for him to realize that I was a leech and leave for his own sake. But instead, he just looked endeared.
“Y/N, you are the best thing that’s ever been mine. I don’t want you to ever think that you’re a burden to me. I love you and I love that I'm the one who brings you comfort. So please, just let me love you.”
My resolve broke and I went to him, letting Luke pull me into his chest. “What did I do to deserve you?” I cried into the warmth of his chest.
“I ask myself the same,” he returned, pressing a kiss to my head.
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kissitbttr · 5 months
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ANA! ANA MY LUV!! idk much about miguel (a travesty i knoeww) but i saw ur fratboy post n now i cant stop drooling at the idea of fratboy!miguel introducing u to his frat buddies!! being so possessive: holding ur waist or pulling u to his lap; kissing ur neck even when his friends are right there. oh my goddd im gonna sob hes so!!!
SUNNY?! I AM BITING MY FIST OMG HE’D SOOO FREAKING POSSESSIVE UGH I LOVE IT WHEN YOU ARE RIGHT
bby you HAVE to hop on the miguel simp train!! HE IS SO FINEEEE😩😩
-
it was around after the third date when miguel nervously asked you to come to the frat house to meet his brothers. he didn’t want to overwhelm you of course, he knew how annoying and pushy his brothers could be but still, he would love for them to get to know you just as he had when he was with you,
you saw how nervous he got, but you assured him by squeezing his hand and telling him that you were okay with that. he smiled in return, kissing you softly on the lips as a thank you,
“i never express any gratitude towards anyone in my life except my parents but i want to thank you so much for finally saying yes, it was fucking annoying to hear him yapping about you non-stop. all of us had enough of his corny shit”
one of his frat brothers, glen had mentioned. feigning a relief expression while he smirked at miguel who gave him the finger,
“i literally thanked Jesus when i heard him going on a date with you, y/n! you are our life savior”
miguel threw his head back in annoyance, groaning at how his frat brothers continued to spill his secrets. but you giggled instead, looking over at him who avoided your gaze out of pure embarrassment.
“what else did he do?”
miguel shot you a warning look, “don’t encourage them, muñeca! they’d go all the way out!”
“oh believe me, we have many” beck had answered, playfully snickering at the amount of times miguel had ranted about you. “which one do you want to hear? one where he talked about you while he was high? or one where it was late at night—“
“fuck off, kingsley!” miguel had interrupted before he got too far, in which beck put his hands up in defense.
miguel snaked his arm around your waist, giving your hip three taps to prompt you to sit on his lap which you obliged.
you happily plopped yourself down on one of his thick thighs. he helped you with shifting your body into a comfortable position with your legs crossed.
the rest of the boys sat in the living room, piling in the same area as they all stared at the two of you. millions of questions running through their minds, desperate to know if miguel somehow blackmailed you into agreeing to go out on a date with him or something worse,
miguel sensed the stares from his brothers and, to be frank, it was quite uncomfortable. though he knew for sure they wanted to know the same thing.
“are you guys wondering how i got to take her out or what?”
they all responded with a ‘yes’ in unison, making him rub his temple and you smiled
“so? what did he do, y/n? because i’m starting to think this is a joke”
“could be. i mean, carlos went all 110% for a girl when she rejected his offer the first time” glen shrugged, earning a frown from carlos himself,
“i did not—“
“yes you did. you stood outside of the campus library with a boombox over your head” one boy chimed in while sipping his beer,
“okay see, i was—“
“oh! and remember when he threatened to pull his—“
“shut the fuck up! focus! we’re not here for me but for them!” carlos gestured his hand at both miguel and you. “can we leave my shit behind? that would be great”
carlos's cheeks went beet red as the other guys teased him for it, beck patted him on the back and told him that it was nothing to be ashamed of but carlos only swatted his hand away,
you found it so endearing at how the frat guys were so playful and funny with each other. typical boys will be boys type of thing. they were definitely far more different than when you see them during parties,
“well to be honest, he really didn’t have to do anything” you simply replied, tucking a hair behind your ear. “but definitely persistent, in the most politest way and less creepier though”
“you saying what i did was creepy?” carlos pointed at himself with a defeated look,
“i mean, if you had to ask then yeah”
the rest erupted in a peal of loud laughter while carlos’s shoulders slouched. propping his back against the chair with his arms crossed, a chorus of ‘see?’ and ‘i told you so’s’ made you laugh,
miguel settled his elbow on the armrest, eyes glinted with adoration whilst his mouth stretched into a lovesick grin. he watched how you managed to pull joy out of them and there’s nothing he’s appreciated more than that,
the way you threw your head back as another cute giggle escaped you while holding onto his shoulder for balance was enough to make his heart ponder,
“man, you’ve got wicked sense of humor, y/n—say if shit went sideways between the two of you, just know I’m available”
miguel frowned upon hearing that as his nose scrunched up in disgust as he leapt the nearest pillow at his brother’s direction for that comment. he wrapped his arm around your waist far more protectively,
“watch it” he warned, glaring at him. he knew it was a joke but he still didn’t like how that sounded, “i’ll kick your fucking ass, monty”
upon seeing that, your hand moved to find his cheek, lightly tapping his chin with your finger to get him to look at you,
“easy there, big boy” your words soothed him in seconds, especially when he heard his favorite nickname leaving your mouth, "I'm with you"
the confirmation made him giddy and his heart blossomed,
he moved dangerously close to your ear to whisper before kissing the back of it making you giggle. “you look so pretty tonight, muñeca” miguel dragged his fingertips up and down your exposed thigh, then squeezed the soft flesh. “so so pretty— do i get to see you in this dress more often?”
the question came off too excited despite his best trying to hide it, again, if there was nobody around, he'd actually take you right there and then.
you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. “but I thought you like me better when i’m naked?”
“oh there’s no doubt about that, mi amor” he winked with a chuckle, “am i… about to get lucky tonight?”
“you might” a seductive response laced on your tone, winking at him as he squeezed your waist before
the boys let out a couple of groans and fake puking sounds at the sight, but the two of you remained still in your element,
''you guys make me sick" glen protested, shaking his head before getting up from the chair to walk away but you caught a small smile on his face,
"jealous you don't have a girlfriend, mayback?" miguel teased at him, glen only threw him the middle finger before cracking another can of beer from the kitchen,
the rest of the boys followed his actions after, not before congratulating miguel on scoring with you.
the word girlfriend made you bulldozed, eyes darted toward his smiling proud face before yours stretched into one as well,
"i'm your girlfriend?"
his smile faltered after he soon realized what he had just called you, he swallowed a nervous gulp. opening and closing his mouth because he was unsure what to say
you must admit you enjoyed seeing him like that.
"well i-i mean--i wasn't--surely you were--uh--what was the question again?"
you tucked your lower lip in between your teeth, head tilting to the side as the adorable man in front of you became a stuttering mess.
realizing that he is on the edge of a nervous breakdown, you leaned closer to his face before smashing your lips against his. his body went still by your action, but soon found himself lost in your kiss and sighed out of contentment,
you pulled away after a few seconds, tousling his soft chocolate hair before replying,
''i would love to be your girl, o'hara''
-
please please PLEASE tell me this is good!! i was writing this in the car and I couldn’t concentrate for a second because people were honking too much!! bhhshshs
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safetycar-restart · 7 months
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KINKTOBER DAY 22: COCKWARMING [LOGAN SARGEANT X READER]
NOTE: This is an NSFW fic with sub!Logan and dom!reader. If you are under 18 or uninterested, scroll past. Alternatively, if you like what you see here then consider checking out my blog :))
This work forms part of a kinktober series where I discuss a different kinky concept with a different motorsports athlete every day. We also discuss the concepts in more detail on my blog so if you have any thoughts, feel free to stop by!
(Since it's COTA, I figured we should have some Logan thoughts)
It's no secret that Logan has had a tough season, and that he's being very very hard on himself about it. And honestly I think the best thing anyone could do for him is just give him a safe space?
Logan feels so much pressure to perform, to be good for Williams, to represent his country, to prove himself, to perform for his family and himself and it just... it gets too much for him sometimes. When the race goes badly, or even just mediocrely. He gets so stuck in his own head and he doesn't need someone to try and distract him, he needs someone to just give him a safe space where he doesn't have to perform like that.
And cockwarming is perfect for that?
He starts to ask for it actually, starts to come to you after races and fall into your arms, mumbling against your ear and asking if you two can spend the night in the hotel and not go out. You say yes of course, knowing that Logan needs quiet time.
He holds your hand the whole trip to the hotel, trying to keep it together in front of the team but you can see how he's struggling. It's all reaching the point where he's put too much pressure on himself for too long and now something has to give.
When you get to the hotel, he says he's going to have a bath by himself, clearing trying to tell you he needs a moment and so you agree of course, telling him you'll order room service in the mean time.
You're alone in the hotel room for all of ten minutes before you hear crying from the bathroom, and two minutes later he's calling for you. You have to wait until he calls, because you know how much trust it takes for Logan to let someone see him like this. If you go before he asks, he'll feel violated and uncertain if he can leave the door unlocked anymore. You would never ever do that to him.
So you wait until he calls, and then go.
You find him sitting in the bath, crying with his knees brought up to his chest. When he spots you, he just mumbles, " 'm sorry, it's just... I dont know it's all so much."
Your heart breaks for him, and rather than say anything you just hold your hand out for him to take. There's nothing you can say, but you can look after him.
You dry him off, ignoring that tears are still running down his cheeks and then take him to the bedroom. He hides under the blankets with you, resting against your chest and talking about his day. He tells you how sad and disappointed he is, how much he wishes he could do better, how much of a disappointment he is.
You let him talk, kissing his head and rubbing his back at the same time to give him some extra comfort. He talks himself hoarse, letting himself complain and rant and have a little pity party because he needs to be allowed to feel those things.
When he stops talking, he stays cuddled against your chest. After a little while, he looks up at you and gives you a small smile, thanking you for listening and saying he loves you. You give him a little kiss, promising him that you love him too and that you're always willing to listen to him.
It's then that he moves up and requests some more kisses, turning into a slow makeout session. You know where this is going, and you're more than happy with that.
"Can we?" logan asks, a little smile on his face.
"Of course we can," you tell him, always happy to be close to him.
So you stroke him to hardness, kissing away his little whines and shaky breathes until he's ready for more.
It's so slow as he enters you, inch by inch until eventually he's as far as he can go and then he just collapses against you. You hold him close, trading soft kisses and just enjoying being close.
You two will stay like that until Logan gets soft enough to slip out, and then you'll warm up the room service you ordered and talk about anything except racing.
But for now, Logan is happy and safe in your arms, finally able to let everything go and just enjoy being close to you.
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reidsgirly · 5 months
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invisible string.
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pairing ! - spencer reid x fem!baker!reader
synopsis ! - spencer likes you, but can’t make the first move to save his life. so it’s up to you now, isn’t it?
word count ! - 1.2k
cw ! - prob inaccurate descriptions of a bakery, no use of y/n, readers bakery is called cake n’ cookies cause why not
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It all started when Garcia came in with a dozen doughnuts from a bakery the team had never heard of. Spencer thought they were the best doughnuts he’d had in his entire life.
“Garcia,” Spencer started, “where’d you get these from? These are amazing.”
“Oh my gosh! I’m so glad you asked!” she gushed. “This bakery that just opened down the street and their doughnuts are obviously amazing! I’m obsessed with their Frappuccinos, you should really try them sometime! Or maybe just get some coffee cause’ you’re boring ol’ Spencer”
He kept the bakery in the back of his mind for a later time.
Two weeks later, he found himself standing inside the very same bakery Garcia spoke so highly of. 
At the sound of the bell chiming, you come running out of the kitchen, with your hair tied up in a high ponytail. You had on a white and blue floral apron, splotches of flour all across it. Spencer thought you were one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, and even that was an understatement.
“Hi.” you greet him. “What can I get you today?”
“Uh, can I get a chocolate frosted doughnut with sprinkles?” God, he was awkward with the simplest of requests.
“Would that be all for you, sir?”
“Yeah, thank you.” he smiled. Spencer Reid smiles. Not the awkward, forced smile he does, but a genuine smile. He smiles at the woman giving him a doughnut.
“Of course! I’ll be right back with that.” you responded, your face painted with glee.
As he waited, Spencer had nothing better to do than look around at the various cupcakes, cakes, and other pastries you had displayed around your store. The plants you had dotted around. The tiny tables with even tinier chairs. 
He found this place to be adorable.
After five minutes, you skipped back into view with his doughnut in a tiny white box, with a pretty pink ribbon tied around it.
“That’ll be $2.32!” you smiled at him, again. That damn smile. 
Spencer gave you the designated amount while still smiling, grabbed his box, and before he could make his way out, you spoke out to him.
“Have a great day, sir!” you smiled at Spencer for the third time that day. 
“You too.” Spencer waved at you before he made his departure.
He walked into work with a bigger smile than usual that day.
“What’s got you all happy?” Garcia questioned him upon seeing the unusually large grin on his face.
Before Spencer could even respond, she cut him off. 
“Oh my god! You went to cake n’ cookies and didn’t get me anything? How could I possibly forgive you? But enough about me, you’ve seen the lovely lady working there, right? She’s so sweet and pretty and she knows my name!” she raved on about the bakery.
“Alright sweetheart, give the boy wonder a break.” Morgan stepped in (admittedly saving Spencer from Garcias’ ranting.)
“He went to cake n’ cookies without me! How can I possibly give him a break?” Garcia whined, dramatic as she always is.
Spencer made his way to his desk, all while thinking about what Garcia said about you. Well, you were a pretty woman, but he certainly didn’t have any time for romantic affairs on the side. 
But he could make time, couldn’t he?
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The second time Spencer found himself in your bakery was to buy his mother a strawberry doughnut.
He assumed she’d like the place as much as he did, and he wanted her to try it at least once.  
“Hello again!” you greet Spencer. “What is it today, sir?” He was slightly surprised that you remembered his face, even though it’s been a couple of months since he last visited your bakery. 
You had your hair tied in the same ponytail as last time, only this time your floral apron was clean. It wasn’t that much of a difference, but Spencer noticed it.
“Can I get a strawberry frost doughnut?”
“Ooh, that’s new. Of course! I’ll be right back with that!”
You disappeared into your kitchen, allowing Spencer to look around your bakery for the second time. 
This time, he noticed how your tables and chairs were now decorated with lace and the candles and teapots and teacups you had lined on the shelf behind the counter were new.
He also noticed the plants you have lined up outside, just on both sides of the entrance. 
Spencer is so entranced in all the latest decorations of your bakery, that he barely notices you return with his treats. 
You skipped out with his doughnut in your iconic white box and pink frilly ribbon.
“That’ll be $2.92!” you smiled at him like you did the last time he was here. You caught him off guard but in the best way possible.
He gave you the designated amount once again, and took his box, all while smiling at you. 
“Have a great day sir! See you soon!” you exclaimed.
“You too.” he said cheerfully and waved as he did the last time. 
Spencer knew he’d be coming back soon, maybe too soon for his liking. 
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The third time Spencer finds himself in your bakery is to buy Garcia a dozen for her birthday. He knew how much she adored your bakery and couldn’t think of a better gift than a dozen sugary sweets for her. 
This time around, you had a few more customers than the previous two times he’d come here. It wasn’t odd, but it didn’t feel normal. 
“Hey handsome,” you greeted him, handsome was new. A good new. “what can I get you today?”
“Can I get a dozen chocolate rainbow doughnuts?”
“Fun. What’s the occasion?” you questioned him again while writing down his order. 
“A friend’s birthday.” Now he was the one smiling at you, once again.
“Fancy, coming right up with that!”
This time after you disappear into your kitchen, Spencer doesn’t take a look around. Instead, he nervously taps his foot while waiting for you to come back. 
You skip out as you always do, and Spencer is already digging through his wallet for his money before you can even tell him his amount. He wanted to get to Garcia as soon as possible to celebrate with her as she did for him.
“It’ll be $6.27 today!”
He hands you the money silently, and quickly gets his dozen to give Garcia.
“Oh, and tell your friend I said happy birthday!” you say to him on his way out, and he can’t help the way his heart swells and the small gesture. You didn’t even know his friend and you were wishing her a happy birthday. Yeah, it was common courtesy but it just felt different coming from you. 
“I will. Have a good one.”
“You too!” is the last thing he hears your overly-enthusiastic voice say to him before he leaves. 
After he makes it to the office, sets down the box, and opens it for inspection, he notices a little note tucked in the corner of the box.
Call me sometime, handsome.
xxx-xxx-xxxx
+ BONUS
“What’s got you all smiley, genius?” Morgan questions. 
“The lady from the bakery gave me her number.” he responds, half shocked and half amused. 
“My man,” Morgan pats him on the shoulder, “finally getting some play.”
“What happened?” JJ asked as she came from the kitchen, Garcia following suit. 
“Boy wonder finally got a girls number.”
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sometimesanalice · 1 year
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Like I Can (Part 1)
Summary: After yet another bad date and tired of swiping on apps, the Dagger Squad steps in to help you out by setting you up on a series of blind dates. Much to Rooster’s dismay.
Warnings: fuff, slight angst. Minors DNI
Length: 3.2K
Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader
Part 2
(We’re kicking of Valentine’s Day a bit early❣️ Enjoy!)
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“I’m all for growing the sport, but Brady buying an MLP team is ruining the integrity of the league. He may be the GOAT of football, but he has nothing on Ben John’s world-class pickleball game,” your date Max passionately states from his spot across from you at the Italian place he had recommended.
Or was his name Mac?
He’d already told you all about the CRBN paddle drama. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had already prepared a PowerPoint presentation on the topic complete with transitions and color-coded charts. He seems the type.
And he had yet to ask you a single question about yourself all evening.
You can tell he is gearing up for the next part of his rant, when your phone lights up on the table, the ringer on higher than you realized.
“Oh! I’m sorry, I thought I had this on silent. It’s my mom, I should probably take this,” you apologize to him, your phone already halfway raised to your ear.
“Hey, kid, how’s it going?”
“Hi Mom, I’m with someone right now. Is everything ok?” You let a little worry tinge the tone of your voice.
“Seriously?” Rooster drolly rasps on the other end of the line, “Are we actually doing this?”
“Oh no! Is she alright?” You wouldn’t consider yourself actress, but you think you’re really selling the performance with the way you widen your eyes and how you make your voice go a little tighter and higher.
“Yup, seems like we’re really doing this. What’s it this time, kid? Did grandma slip on a banana peel and then get run over by a reindeer?” You can practically feel his eyes rolling as he begrudgingly goes along with you.
“Oh my goodness, that sounds serious! How would that even happen?” you ask, shaking your head in in faux shock determined to really sell the act.
“Is everything ok?” Max-Mac whispers to you from across the table. 
His profile didn’t raise any red flags when you’d swiped on him. If anything, he’d seemed a bit more of the beige flag type. Your chats had been fine, he seemed fine, so why not meet up for a date?
What you didn’t realize until it was too late was that “Sports Enthusiast” actually translated to “Pickleball Fanatic”.
“Hold on, Mom,” you hear Rooster scoff as you pull the phone away from your ear. “I’m so sorry, there’s been a family emergency. It’s my grandmother. I really need to go,” you announce to Mac-Max grabbing your purse from the back of the chair. “Thank you so much for understanding. And good luck at your pickleball tournament!” you call back to him as you hustle towards the front door.
“I take it you’ve made your escape?” You can hear the humor in his voice, your antics are nothing new to him.
“Oh my god, was that seriously only thirty minutes? He wouldn’t stop talking about pickleball, Rooster. Anytime I tried to change the subject, he found a way to circle right back to it!” You tell him as you attempt to dig your keys out from where they were buried in your bag. “And then, he pulled up the leg of his jeans and said, I kid you not: ‘Don’t worry, this isn’t an ankle monitor, I’m just wearing my ankle weights.’ Who does that?”
“Just come to the Hard Deck. You should have canceled like I told you to in the first place. Bob and Coyote got back the other day, so everyone’s here. Well, almost everyone,” he says pointedly. “We’re more fun anyways. And Hangman has been harassing me about you, something about your fluke of a win?”
You’d kicked Jake’s ass the last time you played darts with him. Although in his defense, he had been pretty drunk that night and it was a less than fair game since Phoenix would distract him while Fanboy moved your darts on the board.
You wouldn’t be challenging him to a rematch anytime soon. Not unless the odds were in your favor, it was better to keep him on his toes and his ego in check.
Thankful for the princess parking you managed to snag when you first arrived, you unlock your car and toss your bag into the passenger seat before climbing in. Breathing out a sigh of relief to be done with Mac-Max once inside.
“You back in your car yet?” Rooster asked. He was such a worrier, but you can’t say it bothered you. You liked knowing he cared.
“Yeah, just got in.”
“Ok good, see you in a few. Drive safe, kid.”
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Thirty minutes later Natasha was sliding a cold, frothy pint in front of you with a sympathetic look.
It wasn’t too busy at the Hard Deck yet, but it was still early in the evening. You knew it would pick up soon, and before long Penny would be ringing her bell on some rowdy unsuspecting customer.
“Ankle weights?” She asked, trying and failing to keep from laughing at your expense.
“Seriously, Rooster?” you shoot a glare in his direction, “Where’s the loyalty?”
“What? She was right there when I called you. A request that was your idea, if you remember,” he said as he walked up to you, squeezing your shoulder before sliding his arm around you in greeting. “Plus, it’s not like you don’t already tell Phoenix about all your escapades. You really know how to pick ‘em, kid.”
You’ve known Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw since before you had braces back when you were still wearing your hair in two braids. Your moms had been on the school PTA together at the time and had hit it off immediately.
He hadn’t been too happy about being forced to hang out with the kid who was couple years younger than him, especially one who was so clearly enamored with the cute older boy. While you’d outgrown that phase, for the most part, somethings stuck- like the nickname. 
And over the years you’d formed your own bond outside of the forced proximity of your mothers’ friendship.
He’d taught you how to throw a punch, the different ways to pitch a baseball, and to drive a stick shift. You’d taught him how to whistle with his fingers, to play Nerts, and to tie a tie (after asking your dad to teach you).
The give and take was easy with him, you both showed up for the other.
You were there the night he drunkenly fell through the glass patio door at Jason Cameron’s homecoming party. As one of the only sober people there since he wouldn’t let you drink, or let anyone else give you alcohol for that matter, you were the one to take him to the ER. “Don’t worry, kid,” he had slurred, pressing the Washington High t-shirt that you’d found in your trunk to his face to stop the bleeding, “Looks s’worse than it feels.” And you were the one to stay with him as he was stitched up. The evidence of that night still unmistakable on his face.
He was there for you when your parents had sat you down and told you they were getting a divorce. A hurricane of angst and grief, you hadn’t left your room for anything other than school for over a week when he’d let himself in your room one afternoon. Rubbing small circles on your back as he’d let you cry for a bit, he didn’t even tease you about the stains you’d left behind on his shirt. And then he’d herded you into his crappy car and drove you to the slightly sketchy amusement park an hour away with the Tilt-A-Whirl and the giant corndogs. And when he’d told you “It’s going to be ok, kid” on the ride back home, you believed him.
You had been there for him when his mom passed, and all during that dark period after when he was set on self-destruction after his fallout with Maverick. While he had tried to push everyone away, you were always the type to hold on tightly to the people that mattered.
And then life had sent you on different directions. First when he went to college and then when you did. Next for him the Navy, and then you with your own career, both of you always in motion. You two shared a connection the way people with a long history do, the kind where you could go months without talking but knowing the other person is always right there if you need them. Your camaraderie sustained by texts, email, and the occasional FaceTime.
A long-distance friendship for over a decade.
So when your boss had approached you about a promotion that was dependent on you relocating to the West Coast, you thanked whatever kismet in the universe had you packing for San Diego where he was permanently stationed.
The break up with your boyfriend at the time was entirely too amicable considering how long you had been together. He was nice, the sex was nice, your life together was nice. You had all but signed the paperwork for your promotion when you told him, but he didn’t see himself as a west-coaster and you couldn’t envision yourself as anything but. Whether you had stayed together all that time out of convenience or complacency, you still couldn’t say.
It was easy to fall back into the comfort of your friendship with Rooster. Although the lanky teen you had known was replaced with a mustache sporting well-built man courtesy of the Navy. One that had left you feeling confusingly flustered on more than one occasion, and forced to cycle through your mental highlight reel of embarrassing teen Rooster moments to keep from your mind from wandering.
He’d helped you find your apartment, taught you about avoiding the 15 Northbound, and showed you where the best place in town to get tacos was. The transition was made easy with him by your side as he introduced you to his team members who quickly folded you into their group as one of their own.
That was a little over a year ago. You liked this new life of yours in San Diego.
And while the dating pool of men you could swipe through was much larger, well, some things never changed.
“You don’t get it, Rooster. You’re surrounded by absurdly hot Naval eye candy all day,” you complained gesturing to Natasha, she raised her beer to you as thanks in response. “While you’re getting women throwing themselves at you because of the gold wings, I’m fighting for my life on these stupid apps where all the men on there are posing with fish. It’s brutal!”
You’d need to officially call things off with Max-Mac later, thinking to yourself how glad you were that you never gave him your real number, and instead signing up for a Google voice number. You were just not cut out for the competitive pickleball lifestyle.
“Bradshaw, why don’t you set her up? It’s not like we don’t know enough people who would be better options than these fish men,” Natasha asked, like it was the most logical thing in the world, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Yeah, Bradshaw. Tell Nat your super logical reasons for leaving your longtime friend to fend for herself.” You knew where this was heading, so you took a long swig of the beer Phoenix had brought you.
“Seriously, not this again.” His arm that was around you was removed in favor for pinching the bridge of his nose and looking up to the ceiling like it would spare him from the conversation.
“You started it, now tell her.”
“I need another damn drink if we’re going to do this,” Rooster mumbled.
“Me too,” chimed Natasha, clearly reveling in his misery.
“Make that three. I need to catch up.” You hadn’t even stuck around long enough to get a drink at the restaurant, and now you were ready to let loose a bit.
He grunts out some unintelligible thing and then stalks off to the bar shaking his head.
“I’m an upstanding citizen, I pay my taxes, I make a mean peanut butter brownie, and I always drive him around when the Bronco is in the shop for a tune up. It’s literally the least he could do,” you say to Phoenix as you watch him chat with Penny as she works to grab the fresh bottles.
“Oh, so this is thing,” Natasha says decidedly when she eyes the six beers he’s carrying back to the table, three bottles held by the neck in each of his large hands. His classic Hawaiian shirt fluttering with every step, your eyes briefly drifting down to his defined waist.
“Sure is,” you confirm, drawing out the word. Downing the rest of the beer from your pint glass before reaching for one of the new bottles Rooster was divvying out amongst your trio, “I’ve never asked him for anything-”
“That is a boldfaced lie. And you know it,” he cuts in, as he hands you a granola bar from his pocket, that he must have snagged from Penny. “You definitely asked me to set you up with Kyle Cooke from my baseball team in high school. I didn’t do it then, and I’m not doing it now,” he declared, pointing at you with an accusatory finger to further drive the statement home.
“Reasons being?” Natasha wheedled, a mischievous smirk on her face. You could tell she was eating this up, there were two things Natasha Trace loved most in this world: juicy gossip and giving Rooster a hard time.  
Ever the showman, he dramatically lifts up a finger, “First of all, everyone I know is an asshole.”
“I am offended on Bob’s behalf,” you countered, unwrapping the bar and taking a bite, annoyed. Hangman might fit the description, but certainly not Bob.
“Two,” he continues on, raising a second finger, and ignoring you completely as if you hadn’t just made a very valid point, “Let’s say I set you with a friend and then you end up hating them. Then you’ll judge me for being friends with them, we’ll argue, and eventually we won’t be friends anymore. Or even worse, I set you up with someone, you hit it off and date for a while. What happens when you break up? I’m left having to pick sides and walk on eggshells around you guys about the other person.”
“God, you’re such a overthinker. That all sounds totally rational, you drama queen,” you look to Phoenix for agreement, but she’s busy typing out a text message on her phone.
“And three, it’s messy as fuck. And I don’t need to hear about your trophy of a one-night stand.”
Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes, “That was one time! It wasn’t a trophy it was a gold medal.”
“Wait, what?” Confusion coloring Natasha’s features. 
“One time this guy gave me one of those plastic gold medal things on a lanyard, kind of like the ones they give out at kids soccer games, after we hooked up. I mean, kicked him out right away, but I did keep the medal. It was a good confidence boost,” you shrug.  It wasn’t exactly a high point moment for you.
After that encounter you’d definitely started scrutinizing every profile a bit harder before swiping right, or at least you thought you had been. In your defense, at least Max-Mac’s profile didn’t have a fish photo, but the bar was still clearly on the ground.
“I knew you when you wore those shirts with that big mouthed monkey on them. And that’s the kind of shit I don’t need to know about. I don’t wanna be involved. Not gonna happen, kid,” his declaration resolute.
“Well, that sure is something, Bradshaw,” Natasha states, giving him a curious look.
“What are y’all over here discussing so intently,” Hangman questions as he saddles up to your little group, tucking his phone into his pocket. 
“We were just getting into the finer details of the kid’s dating life and how I am going to fix it by setting her up with this great guy I know,” she pronounces, looking all too pleased with herself. A truly self-satisfied grin gracing her face.
Natasha Trace was probably the most bad ass person you’ve ever met, so the idea of her setting you up with someone had you sitting up straighter on the stool you were seated on, “Really?”
“Who?” Rooster demands, frowning at her.
“Yeah, I mean Bradshaw clearly has his convictions, and I respect that. However, I’m an excellent wing-woman. Seriously, I don’t know why I haven’t thought about introducing you guys before. You two would be perfect together.”
Hangman never one to miss an opportunity to rile up Rooster is quick to jump in, “Just because you fly in a two-seater doesn’t make you a good wing-woman, Phoenix. However, now that you mention it, I have a buddy who might knock your socks off. Unless you’d rather just knock boots, I’m sure he’d be up for whatever you wanted,” he shooting you a wink. “I think I’ll toss my name in the ring here too. After all, I’m very good.”
“You want to make it a bet, Bagman?” Her accent always got a little more pronounced when she went toe to toe with him.
“What’re you thinkin’, Darlin’?” he drawls suggestively with a sharp smile. That ever-present toothpick being rolled in his mouth from side to side.
“You guys are not going to be making bets around the kid’s love life,” Rooster snaps.
“The big dogs are talking, Bradshaw,” Hangman taunts as he waves him off.  
“$50 entry? The dates happen here and at the end the kid picks which date was the best. Winner takes all?” You can see the competitive gleam in her eye.
“Alright, alright. Works for me, Phoenix. I can’t wait to take your money.”
“The hell you are,” Rooster barks, still trying to regain control of the quickly spiraling situation.
Well, this had certainly taken a turn.
You find yourself reaching for your third beer of the night.
And you’re even more surprised when Hangman hollers for the rest of the team to join, and before you know it your dating life takes centerstage as the subject of the bet between the group of competitive naval aviators. Many of the others deciding to join in, never ones to shy away from a bit of rivalry.  
“What do you say? You up for it?” Natasha asks, wanting to make sure you were still on board now that her original offer had taken on a life of its own.
You look over and see Rooster looking at you like you’d be crazy to get involved in their kind of chaos. You know he can already tell what your answer will be.
“Why not?” you agree cheerily as he groans into his beer.
At least you would be spared from swiping for a while. It’s what you deserve, you are an upstanding citizen after all.
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Get ready for some dates! Part 2
Written as part of @roosterforme’s #Love Is In The Air TGM Fic Challenge! 
Song Inspiration Sam Smith’s “Like I Can”.
Thank you Jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) for letting me bounce ideas off of you!
Edit: I’ve started a tag list for Part 2! Just let me know if you’d like to be added!
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kvrokasaa · 4 months
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hi there!! you have wonderful work :) i was wondering if you could write for akaashi, kuroo, and atsumu with a girlfriend who finds out her friends are fake (talking crap, bullying her, etc.). i just wanna know what the boys would do about it. im sorry if this is too specific!
a/n: AHHH my first request!! Don't worry anon, this isn't too specific :), thank you hsjdhsjahdj
Fake Friends
Includes: Akaashi, Kuroo, Atsumu (separately) x Fem!reader
cw: cussing, bullying, spitting, hitting, hair pulling, slapping, implied slapping, corny chemistry joke.
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Akaashi wasn't too concerned about friendships, relationships, or anything of the like. That's what he used to think, until he met you.
Before he met you, he would walk home alone, he would only hang out with his team when they celebrated a win. But now he has someone to walk with him, someone to hold when he needs the comfort. He has someone who he can rant to when he needs to.
Those few things are the reasons why he loves you so much. But he wonders if he's ever going overboard when ranting to you. He never hears your side of things, he never hears you complain about things. He wonders why. Maybe you're just not comfortable with sharing?
He finds out the reason after just a few days of worrying.
Akaashi came to pick you up from your class, ready to walk you to your next like usual. But he hears some noises, which isn't out of the ordinary. But he hears girls saying mean things, almost like they're patronizing someone.
And when Akaashi opens the door a little wider, not enough to be seen but enough to see what is going on, he sees you. You're at your seat, head down while your hair covers your face. Three girls surround you.
One points her finger at you, "what gives you the right to think you can blow us off?" She gives you a stern look. But this wasn't something a friend would say, no. She said it in a vial and cruel tone.
"You should know by now that you're nothing but a dog for us."
Another girl laughs at the statement, her hand covering her lips as she looks down at you. The third girl sits on the desk facing you.
"Answer me, you bitch!" The first girl grabs your hair, which makes you look up at her. Tears are flowing down your cheeks.
"Aww, she's crying. Fucking pathetic." The girl sitting on the desk starts laughing at seeing your tears. She puts her hand out, showing her rings to your face, "come on, mutt. You know what to do."
Just as you're about to lean forward to kiss her rings, Akaashi stalks towards the girls and slaps the girl's hand out of your face. He has an angry expression on his face, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips in a straight line.
"What gives you the right to treat my girlfriend like a dog?!"
Akaashi clenches his jaw. He's seen enough, no wonder why you were always so quick to do something for him. You're used to this kind of treatment.
You look to the side, eyes wide at the seen in front of you. "Keiji, it's not what you think!" Akaashi's head snaps over to you, are you really defending these girls? How long have you been accustomed to this kind of behavior?
But Akaashi doesn't respond, he only grabs your hand and leads you out to the hallway. "Those aren't your friends. Do you understand?"
You can only nod in response, your eyes brimming with tears, afraid that he's mad at you now. But Akaashi pulls you into his chest, hiding your face from anyone who passes.
"Don't let people like that control you, Y/n. You're too good for that."
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Kuroo had a goofy smile on his face, ready to tell you another science joke. He knows you hate them, that you cringe every time you hear one. But you still smile at him, you still laugh at his stupid jokes.
He rounds the corner, about to make it down to your street, but he catches sight of five people on the sidewalk in front of him.
Two boys and two girls surround another person that is sitting on the ground. They all have a big smile on their faces as they yell at the fifth person. Kuroo isn't one for confrontation, when he sees something like this happening, he usually just threatens to call their parents or something of the like.
But as he walked closer, he realized that you're the one on the ground, a big, ugly handprint on your cheek. Your head is down, tears streaming down your face. Kuroo can't even imagine how you managed to fall to the ground.
All thoughts leave his mind when he sees one of the boys lean down and spit on your shirt. Kuroo's eyes widen, and he grits his teeth. Did that scumbag really just do that?!
"What makes you think you can be with Kuroo?" He hears one of the girl's voices shouting at you. She points her finger at you and sneers, "did you get with him because you knew I like him? Answer you ugly whore!"
Kuroo grows tired from hearing these words. He walks over to the scene, but not before hearing an insult from one of the boys.
"You're such a fucking pig. Always stealing guys, you'd really let anyone use you, huh." He laughs.
Kuroo starts walking faster, and once he gets to the scene, he grabs the guy's shirt, pulling him back and pushing him. The guy falls to the floor and looks up, he glares at Kuroo.
But before anyone can try to throw a punch or slap, Kuroo grabs your hand and takes off, running down the street.
Once you both get to a safe and secluded place, he immediately pulls you into a hug. Your tears start flowing down your face as you hug him back.
"Carbon and hydrogen went on a date. I heard they really bonded."
You pull back from the hug and playfully slap Kuroo's chest, "'s stupid." He smiles when he hears you laugh through the tears.
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You never thought you would be dating Astumu Miya. You always thought his fangirls were a bit too much, and maybe they'd even threaten you.
But now you're having the time of your life because of him. Every worry ceases to exist when you're around him. He just has that effect on you.
But that doesn't mean his fangirls wouldn't try to hurt you in any way.
Over the time your relationship started, you gained new friends. You didn't recognize them as Astumu's fangirls, so your worries were unfound. Oh, how wrong you were.
One of his fangirls, Hana, managed to squeeze her way into your life. She was nice at first, gaining your trust, making you feel good around her. She was so nice that you considered her your best friend.
But once she gained your trust, she immediately turned against you. She would copy you, steal your clothes when she slept over, blame you for things that aren't your fault - she would do everything in her power to make you feel horrible.
Astumu didn't catch wind of this problem until a few months after it started. At first, he thought that you two were super close. He thought that someone was on your side.
But he knew he was mistaken when he started noticing the signs of her behavior changing. One of the main things he noticed was when you tried to talk, she would interrupt you and start talking about her day or other trivial things. She would take credit for your ideas. She even stole the necklace that he gifted you for your third mensiversary.
Astumu could only sit back and watch you let this happen. He knew that you didn't have many friends, so you didn't want to lose her.
But after a few more months, he knew that he had to put a stop to this. He knew when he saw you looking at yourself in the mirror after your 'friend' told you to lose some weight.
"Astumu would look better with someone who doesn't look like," she paused, "that."
While you were talking to Astumu in your bedroom, he comes over frequently, with your 'friend.' She interrupted you again as she stood up and smiled at him.
"Y/n, just stop talk-"
She was cut off by Astumu's glare, his jaw clenched, and his eyebrows furrowed. He looked pissed, and the girl had her eyes widened at his expression.
"When my girl speaks, you sit and fucking listen."
His tone was harsh, cruel, making the girl sit immediately.
But she couldn't listen to another word, she was scared out of her mind. She huffed and stormed out of your bedroom, grabbing her coat and shoes as she ran off.
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protective men protective men protective men protective men!!!! HGSHGHASG
I love when men are protective of their woman!!!
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amalthiaph · 8 days
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I took an interest in The Bad Batch around the tailend of S2. It's not news to Tumblr that I almost slept on this show. And I cannot thank Caleb Dume enough for being the reason why I pressed the play button for this one. While I haven't been around for most of its active run, and I wish I had been, the last year has been among the best months of my life.
This show challenged my morals, and taught me lessons that I will forever take with me.
Tech taught me to embrace and take pride in who I am. I now think that I am not something that needs to be cured. I needed to be understood and accepted. He taught me that we deserved to be loved and be allowed to live the way we want to (as long as we are not causing harm to ourselves or to others).
Hunter taught me that at the end of the day, we're all still humans. We make mistakes. We fail. But we can learn from them, and we can strive to be better. And I should also take care of my hair bec I cannot accept that a man in a galactic war have better hair than me (Okay, did you honestly think I'm gonna be serious this entire essay?)
Crosshair taught me that at the end of the day, we really are still humans. Sometimes, we make choices that not everyone will understand or agree to. Sometimes, we don't even understand our own choices. But we can learn from them, and we can strive to be better. And that I should also go to therapy bec istg my hand shakes like hell I always need to rely on a pen stabilizer when doing my artworks.
Wrecker taught me that in this world where we can be anything, always choose to be kind. He is a great man who would always be there for everyone, and I hope that one day, I can be that person too. He is afraid of heights, but he climbs and go on high places anyway. Like him, I should also start conquering my fears. Dear Wrecker, I did try conquering my fear of heights last March 9 but I can't. I will try again.
Echo taught me to always fight for the greater good. Almost two years ago, me and a group of people campaigned for a great tomorrow. With pink flags and pink balloons, we worked on our little thing I like to call our rebellion. Sadly, we lost. At times, I am thinking of just giving up bec that's democracy and I cannot go against the people's decision, but characters like Echo and the rest of Rogue One taught me that nothing should ever stop me for fighting for the people's rights and that my love for my fellow citizens should always come first before hatred.
And lastly, Omega taught me to be curious, or more likely to not be ashamed for being curious. Learn about the world. Learn about lots of things. We never know when we need it. While I could say be good at strategy and win 30 grand on card games, nahhh, I'm not that smart.
I also learned to reevalutate myself as an artist. This show taught me integrity. I had ranted about this lately but these characters challenged me in terms of art. I knew that the creators aren't best at proper representation. While I could draw them as they are in the show, I choose to stand for what is right, and represent them as properly as my skills could. In the more technical side, I became good at drawing armors. And this little Actors AU Draw Series taught me to be responsible; I tried my very best to create and post them on time. This increased my productivity.
But enough about me.
There's something I realized two nights ago; we, the fandom, are Bad Batchers ourselves. We can consider ourselves a family, but not one of us is the same and we're all interesting, and capable in our own unique ways. We can have our own opinion and stand about something and still coexist. Like our favorite charactera, we embrace and celebrate our differences.
This show may end. No more Bad Batch Eves, no more cryptic tweets that cause us to hyperventilate, no more Bad Batch Wednesdays but it will live on, through us.
I know there will be a day where we decrease in number, one by one, little by little, but still, the show will live on through our actions, our opinions, our choices we make after May 1, 2024 because I know that all of us were changed in some ways by these characters and this show.
To the crew, your cryptic tweets caused me sleepless nights, but thank you so, so much. It is through your hardwork that we had this wonderful show. Thank you for making every second of the past year so worthwhile and enjoyable for me and for everyone.
However this show will end, whether happy or sad, I am glad it happened. However short my time was with them, I am happy I had been here. However short my time with everyone in the fandom was or if some of you leave one day, still, thank you so much for being part of my life; I am so happy I met all of you.
To Clone Force 99, thank you. I've never loved anything like this before. May the Force be with you.
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