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bingoboingobongo · 1 year

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task force 141 + cuddling

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

Warnings: none

A/N: idk if this counts as a holiday hc but idc i wanted to write this. pretend they're wearing christmas pj's idk.

simon "ghost" riley:

alright so when you really get down to it ghost's just a scared guy

i mean not scared in the traditional sense ig but he's pretty paranoid (not that i blame him)

he's definitely the kind of guy that feels pretty vulnerable when he's asleep and because of that (and nightmares) he's never really been a deep sleeper

like he can fall asleep whenever because he's sorta in a state of perpetual tiredness but it's always a super light sleep and he'll wake up at the slightest disturbance (hence the state of perpetual tiredness)

this all culminates into a very specific mindset ghost has when he's sleeping with you

ghost is absolutely petrified of anything happening to you, especially since he can't protect you when he's sleeping, so he's definitely a fan of spooning (with him as the bigger spoon ofc) bc it makes him feel like he's shielding you from harm

he also likes having you so close to him bc one you're nice and warm and two it lets him know your safe

and honestly it's less spooning and more just him trying to cover your entire body with his body

like he will go full on blanket mode

if he could he would just box you in under him and the only reason he doesn't is because he knows he would end up crushing you

he'll hold you really tightly too

like almost squeezing you

and you always think he'll eventually loosen up a little when he falls asleep but he never does

this has two purposes

first is that it keeps you close

and second is that it stops you from moving around excessively

the second one is important especially if you're a chaotic sleeper because he always gets woken up when you move

also he likes having you face him when he sleep so it's sorta like you guys are hugging but sometimes that can get uncomfortable with all the limbs involved

oh yeah he definitely wraps/throws his legs around you in another effort to keep you pinned down

also hot take but he doesn't like being the little spoon

it's too stressful for him because even though he feels protected he feels like you're vulnerable and that's worse

john "soap" mactavish:

alright so starting off soap is a great cuddler

but then as the night progresses... not so much

ik everyone's been saying this but it's because it's the truth

soap is a spreader

no matter what position he starts off in soap will always find a way to spread out

for some reason he also has a tendency to flip over in his sleep a lot

like it always starts out with the him on his back with your head laying on his chest as he rubs circles on your arm and tells you stories about his childhood

and around halfway through the night he might turn over and hug you while he sleeps for a bit

with his arms wrapped around you and your face buried into his chest

but then by the morning

soap is starfished on his belly

one arm is haphazardly thrown across your back/front (depending on how you're sleeping) with one of his legs tangled into yours

lord knows he's drooling too but honestly same

also soap's definitely a blanket stealer but for no reason

like in the middle of the night you'll be waging a war with him for the blanket

just for him to kick it off the bed by morning time

you've tried getting another blanket but it didn't work and he just stole that one too

you're still trying to come up with a better solution

soap also sleeps like but is also weirdly conscious

idk how to phrase it but like it will take everything to wake him up

but also if you even try to sneak the blanket away from him he will know and you will not be able too

also he definitely snores when he sleeps on his stomach sorry

rodolfo "rudy" parra:

ugh rudy my love my precious my darling

rudy lives for cuddles

but he likes to be the cuddled instead of the cuddler

rudy is always down to be the little spoon but honestly that's not really his favorite position

(he almost always has bruises on his side from training so it can be uncomfortable)

instead he likes resting his head on your chest while you sleep

he'll be like half laying on his stomach half laying on you

and he'll tangle his legs into yours and wrap his arm around your stomach

and good god this man will literally spontaneously combust if you play with his hair

pet it, braid it, scratch it

do whatever you want to it he will eat it up

easily the fastest way to get him asleep

he also really loves listening to your heartbeat and syncing his breaths up with yours

it's always so satisfying to hear your heartbeat slow down when you fall asleep

also rudy has like five different blankets on his bed because he's a really cold sleeper

although with you he usually only needs one or maybe two because you're so warm

he's also a surprisingly pretty sleeper

you've been meaning to take a picture but you always forget because for some reason he just has a way of making you sleepy when he lays down on you

he's also a pretty deep sleeper but even then you try not to move because he always looks so happy

sometimes he'll sleep in the crook of your shoulder and then you can turn to face him sometimes

kyle "gaz" garrick:

kyle likes it when you cling onto his side with your arms and legs wrapped around him

he calls you a koala but he will also die if you stop

he just loves seeing you bury your face into his arm

especially with your legs wrapped around his waist

dang he eats it up

sometimes he'll turn to face you so you can cling onto his front

but he is a back sleeper at his core so it works out

he likes to wrap his arms around you and rub circles on your back or play with your hair

and also the smell of your shampoo has pretty much conditioned him to get tired

like there's nothing more relaxing to him than being able to breathe in the scent of your shampoo at night

definitely also whispers random things to you at night

sometimes it's romantic sometimes it's just him going down random tangents until he tires himself out

but it's his favorite part of the day because he gets to have you with him and explore weird thought experiments

sometimes you'll respond but you usually fall asleep pretty quickly he notices

and he definitely has a picture of you wrapped around him as you slept

it's his lock screen on his phone and it always makes him happy

gaz is like a medium deep sleeper

he also somehow stays really still when he sleeps

like he'll go to bed and wake up in the same position

also he always has to keep like one leg out of the blanket or else he gets too hot

john price:

price likes it when you sleep on top of him

like on top on top of him

he wants you to be his personal blanket

he'll cuddle with you this way anywhere too

on the sofa, on the bed, on the floor (?)

(maybe if there's a soft rug or smthing)

he likes to wrap his arms around you and feel you sorta melt into him as you relax

i mentioned smthing in a previous hc about price wanting a weighted heated blanket for christmas

but let's be real

you are the weighted heated blanket

it just makes him feel really secure and protected

and he's holding onto you so he feels like you're safe and protected too

sometimes he wraps a leg around yours too

and yes price is a snorer what can i say

he'll insist he doesn't snore and then let out the most god awful noise you've ever heard

honestly the price girlies are the true heroes for putting up with that

respect.

(i am a price girly too)

alejandro vargas:

alejandro likes the intimacy of cuddling so that's very important

he also likes being the cuddler but he's always down to be the cuddled

he's a fan of the classics like spooning

but usually he prefers a position that's more equal

that's why alejandro loves to fall asleep hugging you with both of you on your sides

maybe your face is buried into his chest and his hand is wrapped around the back of your head

he just likes holding you close to him can you blame him

he definitely plays with your hair too as you sleep

and he loves whispering sweet nothings into your hair as you fall asleep

he's also very physical so he likes to be touching you at all times

generally just a very sweet and considerate lover and cuddler

also he used to be a chronic insomniac before he met you

but feeling how warm you are and hearing you breathe just manages to relax him

so with you he's able to sleep deeply

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saturnrin · 7 months

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Consider:

Tikki and her miraculous giving Marinette freakishly good luck and Marinette absolutely hating it.

Plagg and his miraculous giving Adrien absolute shit luck and Adrien loving it.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Everything always works out for Marinette. It's honestly ridiculous. And while it was nice at first, she sorta hates it now. (See examples here)

And Adrien, oh, everything goes wrong for him in the best ways possible.

Adrien has a photoshoot with Lila? He's stuck in traffic and can't make it in time, or it starts raining on them, and they have to pack up early.

Unwanted Stuffy Gala that Gabriel insists Adrien must go to? He has to leave early because someone spills wine over his bland all-white outfit his father picked out.

Gabriel wants Adrien home early? What a shame, his phone got thrown off the Couffaines House-Boat, not even 30 minutes ago.

Adrien favorite part of his bad luck, though, is when it spreads to the people he doesn't like. He'll never forget the look on Lilas face when she tried to dump an entire platter of food on Marinette, only to slip and dump it over herself instead.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #mlb #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #chat noir #ladybug #tikki #plagg #tikki and plagg #plaggs just happy he can turn his kids bad luck into a positive thing #and hes more than happy to dish out karma to those he doesnt like (i.e. gabriel and lila)#plagg thrives in the chaos he creates #post-reveal marinette blames adrien for her clumsiness and misfortune- even when he's not around #adrien thinks thats unfair #tikki thinks its plausable #plagg finds adriens frustration hilarious and refuses to correct marinette #all luck au

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beneatheaven · 6 months

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taehyun fingering you in the library

lowercase intended, 1,295 words, haven’t proof read

smut under cut, minors do not interact

you were partnered up with taehyun to study on your up coming test. you had been learning about this topic for the past month, so this test was very important to pass.

what you didn't expect was to be paired up with the cute guy in your class to go over the chapters together. he was always so focused in class, you would know since you stared at him quite often. looking at how pretty his side profile was. his lips and nose being your favorites.. just letting your imagination run wild..

so to say you were nervous about meeting up with him, just you two, was putting it very lightly..

messaging you that he had already arrived to the library and found a spot, you smiled at how efficient he was. looking over your outfit before you left. choosing to wear an off the shoulder sweater like top and a skirt to show off your collarbones and thighs. feeling the need and push to look cute for him. no it wasn't a date, you both needed to do this, but might as well put yourself out there.

making your way inside the library, you didn't see him anywhere near the tables at the entrance. sending him a text asking where he was or if he had left for a second. replies with in seconds that he's in one of the more secluded seating areas, somewhere upstairs and a couple bookshelf aisles back. you were able to find him, surprised at how he was able to find this spot.

"sorry if i made you wait long, as soon as you said you had already arrived i felt bad." setting your things down, not knowing if you should sit across or next to him. "don't worry about it. oh here sit next to me." he pulls the chair next to him out for you. taking a seat and getting your things ready in front of you.

he smelled so good, and looked so good. he wore a graphic tee with a shortsleeved button up thrown on top with some jeans. you could see his large biceps and his neck. sorta getting turned on by the idea of him manhandling you while you kiss his neck..what sounds he would make.

"y/n." snapping you out of your thoughts. "everything okay you seem distracted." turning away from him, too red faced to look him in the eyes. "yea sorry, it's been a long morning." both of you returning to your books. "well let me know if you need a break during this, might be a while." shooting a smile at you. "thank you, so did you want to go over the first topic in this chapter?" turning your pages, arms slightly bumping against each other. the small things making you blush more. "sure, i already familiar with it so i'll just be going over it for you." he was just so sweet..

while he was speaking, all you could focus on the way his lips were moving and how they would feel against your skin. rubbing your thighs together in the process. trying not to completely block out taehyun's voice, it was so warm and silky, could never get tired of it. and every time he said your name to make sure he had your attention it made you feel wetter.

"y/n, you seem a bit distracted." he's looking at you, then to your chest and down to your soft thighs squeezing together. you felt so small under his gaze. catching at how he was checking you out. "maybe a little frustrated." his words bringing heat to your cheeks. "i-i don't know what you mean." your body tensing up.

he leans in closer to you, thinking he was making a move but instead he flipped a couple pages of your textbook to a different topic. his left arm coming behind you to rest over your shoulders. "it's your turn to read up on this topic." feeling his right hand land on your thigh. "maybe like this you'll be a little more focused."

with him so close to you it made you too scared to mess up. getting your act together for him. you got through one paragraph, he was caressing your thighs, making it warmer, but only getting higher and higher up your thigh and closer to your thigh."that's good y/n. now lets see if you can get through this next part with." leaning into your ear. "a little help." he whispers.

you can feel your panties getting wetter. he's so hot it's driving you insane. as you start to read, his hand reaching under your skirt, running one finger down your core, over your panties, breath getting shaky. "if you stop i'll stop." you don't want him to stop, nodding and you continue to read.

he pushes your panties to the side. "so wet, is it for me?" nodding. he's placing small light kisses around your ear and neck, thank god you're in a secluded area. his lips felt so good on you, having to hold back from moaning so your words come out shaky. he hasn't even done anything but just teased you..

"want a finger inside." nodding to him again. he chuckles lightly, he found it so cute that you were acting this way. "okay, then keep going." continuing to read. slowly inserting his finger in you, thrusting it. having to biting your lip to hold your sounds back. "that's it good girl." the name making a whimper slip out, making him groan in your ear. he sounded so hot.

"putting a second one in." your palms getting sweaty as his thrusting only gets faster. "you still seem so distracted y/n, guess you're going to have to keep studying with me huh?" out of it you're letting quiet gasp and moans slip out. "you sound so hot right now, and close, are you close baby?" bitting down on your lips. "mhmm" you felt his fingers slow down a little. "that's too bad.. you're not done. finish reading and you get to cum." his thumb coming to rub your clit teasingly.

trying to get past this stupid reading while his fingers were deep inside you, moaning into your ear and kissing your skin so sweetly was the hardest thing you've ever done. turning your head away from the words on the page to look at him. "taehyun please how much l-longer- oh- right there." his fingers started to hit that perfect spot in you, he couldn't stop now. "almost there baby, i'll let you know. come on and stay focused." you just want to lean in and kiss those beautiful lips of his.. but not just yet.

reading and reading, getting the idea to let your right hand wander down, between his thighs. you just need to feel him. earning a sweet moan from him right into your ear. "curious girl aren't you? you close baby?" "god yes, taehyun please." he's thrusting his fingers harder, rubbing your clit quicker. "yea baby, here come closer." his left hand guiding your head into his shoulder. your hand that was resting on his thigh was now grasping onto his thigh for support. "yea just like that, just like that baby." muffling your moans into his shoulder, your thighs clamping tightly around his hand as you came hard.

still thrusting his fingers slowly, helping you come down from your high just before taking them out. slipping them in his mouth. licking them clean. he was just so fucking hot. losing your control, you leaned in and kissed him. messy kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue, he was such a good kisser. "let's go study at my dorm from now on would you like that baby?"

#txt smut #txt hard hours #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt x reader #taehyun smut #taehyun x reader #taehyun imagines

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strawberries-and-summer-days · 6 days

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LOVE TO HATE YOU ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

pairing: percy jackson x demeter!fem!reader

warnings: swearing + minor violence (punches basically)

a/n: i wanted to write some percy jackson enemies to lovers (sorta) so here we are!! i don't know how i feel about this one but enjoy! (also im changing the layout of my fics - in case you couldn't already tell :))

look.

when percy showed up for sword training this morning, the last thing he was expecting was to be paired with you.

i mean hey! at least he could take his anger out on you and nobody would notice or care for that matter - well y'know... except you.

being thrown on you ass for the fifteenth time in a row really wasn't on your agenda for today. and you'd had enough.

"goddamnit jackson!" you yell when you get up again. "what the hell is wrong with you?"

"right back at you y/l/n!" percy hisses.

seething you narrow your eyes at him. "i swear to fucking god, i'm going to kick your ass."

"right, cause you seem to be doing really well at that."

you launch at percy. why? why is he like this? why is he popular and nice to everybody but you? why?? why is he infuriatingly handsome? from his soft looking hair, to his blue-green eyes- wait, what?

where'd that come from?

you're supposed to be angry at him.

your fist connects with percy's jaw and he stumbles back in shock. his eyes land on you in a deadly promise as he flys at you himself.

"you're honestly so annoying, i don't know how i put up with you," he sends a punch to your face and your head snaps back, your eyes filling with tears. fucking hell.

arms wrap around you then, pulling you back from attacking percy more. you swing your arm back accidentally knocking the person in the face causing them to cry out. "oh shit! im so sorry!" you exclaim turning around to comfort annabeth.

"fuck annabeth, im so sorry."

you're a child of demeter, the most violent thoughts you've had all week is how you accidentally made a strawberry explode. you shouldn't be thinking about how the next time percy comes near you, you're going to strangle him with the nearest vine. no, scratch that you're going to strangle him reguardless.

you crouch down next to annabeth worry in you eyes, "are you okay?"

annabeth nods and takes your hand when you offer to help her up. "i'm fine, but you two," she says waving a hand between percy - whose still pissed by the way - and you. "need to sort out whatever shit you're fighting over."

percy looks over at you a scowl etched on his face and his arm still captured by luke. "yeah fine whatever." he throws his sword down on the ground before stalking away growling about how everything's going to shit.

"what is with him today?" luke asks walking over and picking up percy's sword.

"i don't know!" you huff exasperated. "he's been like this all morning. i was the one on the receiving end of it!"

"well i'm like ninety percent sure punching him wasn't the best way to go about that," luke says still watching percy walk away.

"well you try being kicked on your ass fifteen times in a row," you snap shoving past grover. a little part of you is sorry for how you're treating them but honestly you're so sick of the way percy treats you.

the way he's kind and caring to everyone else but you. the way he always calls you names and groans whenever you're paired up. the way he rolls his eyes whenever you talk never bothering to listen.

it pisses you off how he's attentive to other campers, how he has the prettiest smile and looks amazing in that navy shir- woah woah woah what?

nope, you're not even going to think about that. about the crush you've had on him ever since he arrived at camp. you two had gotten along for the first few days and then, boom, he's hated you ever since.

you dont even know what you did to make him suddenly hate you. but deep down, you've always had a feeling that maybe he knows about your feelings - though you've never, ever, said anything about them - and they repulse him. so to cover that up you've gone right ahead and hated him - for the most part - back.

you slam the door shut of your cabin and flop onto your bed groaning loudly into your pillow. mostly out of annoyance a little out of actual pain. you slowly start to drift off then only realising you've fallen asleep when your sibling gently shakes you awake.

"y/n? its dinner time."

you groan softly and thank the girl for waking you before making your way to the mess hall laughing at the jokes your siblings are making, and feeling much calmer - and not violent.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

there are perks to living in a cabin all by yourself. percy found this out a few weeks after tyson had left - yes he misses tyson - but having a cabin to freely scream into a pillow, was pretty neat as well.

gods percy hated y/n sometimes.

she was the most annoying, know-it-all, shrill, person ever. like seriously how is she so talented at annoying him? its like a god given gift.

whipping his pillow back onto his bed percy sinks down onto the mattress feeling it dip with his weight. he hated how he reacted earlier.

did he seriously fucking punch you? did he actually punch a girl? anybody's mom would be disappointed in them if they found out their son punched a girl, but sally jackson? you'd have to come up with a whole new word for what she'd feel.

gods he was stupid.

he fucking punched a girl.

even worse he punched y/n.

the first thing he did then was pick up a discarded drachma and send an iris message to his mom.

when sally turned around to see percy, her face changed instantly from excited to be getting a call to worry.

"percy? whats wrong?"

"i fucked up mom."

"language," his mom scolded. "but how did you mess up?"

percy hesitated not wanting to tell his mom that he hit a girl. "i hurt y/n."

"y/n?" sally's eyes flash with surprise. over the years she'd heard of the infamous y/n. percy would always complain about her, or just talk about her. but no matter the time he'd always bring her up in a conversation - i mean sure most of the time he was whining about how she'd pissed him off, but he'd still talk about her.

"yeah, i- i don't know what to do."

sally's eyes soften, when she sees the way percy is distressed. "you could apologise?"

percy looks down and runs his hands through his hair. "i don't think she'd believe me, mom."

"it's always better to try, i'm sure even though she might not show it, y/n would appreciate it." she purses her lips trying to hide a smile as she thought of what to say next. "besides i thought we didn't like y/n."

percy's head snaps up and he shrugs. "we don't... not like her," he starts. "we- i- i just hated the way she fit into camp, when i first came here. she was like their perfect camper, she even went to the lenghts of being nice to me! but i just, ugh." percy sighs. "it was always so hard for me to see her being so comfortable with everyone, she's only been at camp for like three weeks more than me and she was already practically ruling the place!"

he stands up starting to pace the room as sally sits patiently listening to him. "and then i iced her out and started treating her like shit - i know, sorry about the swearing - and she started acting the same way towards me so there was no way i could just- uh." he runs his hands through his hair for like the millionth time. "i just messed up. and now whenever i talk to her i can practically feel her dislike towards me."

sally is quiet for a moment and when she does finally speak, she says something that percy didn't expect. "do you like her?"

"i- what?" his bewildered expression facing sally.

"do you like y/n?"

a frown crease percy's forehead, and just as he's about to answer the door to his cabin swings open and annabeth and luke storm inside.

"i'll leave you guys to it! love you percy, talk soon," sally smiles from behind percy and the iris message dissolves.

"you need to go apologise to y/n right now," annabeth huffs.

"hey! she hit me first!" percy defends.

"yes i know, luke and i have just given her this exact talk. so listen percy jackson, you, are going to grow a pair of balls and talk to y/n. no fucking name calling or bickering, just plain talking. and if you don't, i'm going to sneak in here in the middle of the night and cut your dick off."

luke clears his throat and places a hand on annabeth's shoulder pulling her back. "okay... annabeth, take a chill pill." he turns back to you. "but seriously jackson, annabeths right - minus the dick cutting and shit - talk to the girl."

sighing percy just looks up not bothering to even fight anymore.

"i'll take that dejected sigh as a hell yeah," annabeth smiles. "y/n will be waiting for you at the end of the dock after dinner - which by the way is right now."

without even giving him the chance to object annabeth - and luke, i guess - usher percy out of the cabin and to the mess hall, snickering behind him about how he's secretly in love with y/n.

which....

'do you like y/n?' his mom's question flits into his mind.

does he?

maybe on some level he's had a crush on her since he came to camp.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

the water lapped at the edge of the dock posts.

you had been sitting here for five minutes - as per a very huffy and flustered annabeth's request - why you're sitting here? you actually don't know.

the moonlight shines down on the earth and you smile at the serenity of the moment. footsteps sound from behind you and you don't bother looking back - thinking its just annabeth coming to tell you why she wants you to wait here.

but the second his scent hits you, you tense up, his body radiating heat when he sits down next to you.

"hi."

you turn to face him. "hey." you're both quiet for a moment. "annabeth set you up too?"

percy nods and chuckles, "gotta love when she meddles."

you shoot him a look. "when annabeth meddles, you know things are either going horribly wrong or horribly wrong."

percy laughs and you can't help but smile at how simple the moment is and that you're not arguing.

"i'm sorry."

"i'm so sorry."

you both freeze at your double apology and look at one another. a new tension settling over the both of you. not the fierce type when you're both angry at the other, but a new type, a gentler one.

resting your hand on the dock you look out to the water, tensing up when you feel a warm hand cover your own.

your buried feelings rise very close to the surface and you curiously look over to percy, to find him earnestly looking at you.

"y/n... im so fucking sorry about earlier."

"hey its not entirely your fault," you offer. "i mean i punched you first."

"no, thats not it, i mean yeah, i'm very sorry about this morning, but i'm also sorry for the last like four years. i treated you ike dog shit and i have no excuse for it."

your soft eyes nearly send percy over the edge of the dock. he was finally doing this, he was finally going to tell you the truth.

"when you came to camp a few weeks ahead of me, i was jealous at how fast you had managed to fit in, how quick everyone seemed to accept you. it made me angry and i started to resent you," you suck in a breath at percy's explanation. "i resented you for like three weeks tops, by the way, and when you started to treat me the same way i thought you hated me too. by the time i had found my place in camp and had finally started to relax, it was too late for me to just stop suddenly acting shit towards you." percy rushes out. "so i kept treating you that way, i called you names and started fights with you because having any of your focus on me - even if it was bad - was worth it. i hated you because you were practically perfect and i could see it in every way. i hated you most of all because i didn't hate you at all."

the air is sucked out from between you.

"w-what?" you whisper. "you don't hate me?"

"no."

"i don't hate you either!" you rush out suddenly needing him to know. you're like two seconds off floating off the earth, the warmth of his hand practically grounding you to the dock.

percy's heart swells, "you don't?" his voice is whisper soft.

"no."

percy seizing his chance, slides closer to you angling his head towards your in question as he stares at your mouth.

you catching on quickly, nodding to him, grinning internally at how this moment - one you've dreamed of for years is finally about to happen.

he presses a soft kiss to your mouth, his hands shooting to the sides of your face holding you as if you're the worlds most precious gem. fireworks explode low in your stomach as if to remind you that you're kissing percy jackson, you're kissing percy jackson!!

your hand makes its way to the back of his neck holding him there and pulling him impeccably closer. your heart rockets when you pull back for air and percy makes a whining noise.

you shuffle closer to him then, basking in his warmth. only now just noticing the small vines and flowers that have twisted their way onto the dock and curled around your ankles.

grinning percy turns back to you running a hand on the back of your head and pulling you back for another kiss.

somewhere in the back ground you can hear annabeth victory cheering and laughing with luke but you don't care. at this point nothing could tear you away from the boy who's kissing you, who's holding you with such reverence you'd think he was holding a priceless artifact.

a/n: lol sorry this was so long (un-edited btw!! i stayed up wayyyy too late to even think about editing this lol)

#percy jackson x you #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson fic #fanfic #fanfiction #percy jackson #emma writes ₊˚⊹⋆

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noproofread · 6 days

Text

Into It (NSFW)

Luffy x afab!reader (gender neutral though)

i cannot be held responsible for what weed influences me to write shhh

unprotected sex, inappropriate use of gum gum powers, edging (if you squint), public kinda sorta. Luffy's sailing away the next morning and reader makes a move, Luffy knows what he's doing.

word count: 1,338

masterlist here

You had been drinking a little, celebrating the straw hat’s victory overthrowing the corrupted leader of your country. It was a banquet thrown as a thank you to the pirates. Maybe it was the liquor in your system that made you a little more brave but you had been flirting heavily with their captain. He had that clueless charm about him. Carefree in a way, he spent most of the night singing, drinking, eating. He was cute, funny, and the way he viewed the world made you jealous. He wanted the world in the palm of his hand, and you wanted it for him. You helped him during his stay in your country, grew somewhat attached to him and his crew, and he will be sailing away to continue his journey. You wanted to take this last night to fulfill your own selfish needs. Luffy advocated for doing whatever you wanted, and you planned on doing just that.

You danced over to the straw hat captain, taking a small bite of his food to get his attention. “Hey! This is MY food!” He whined. You laughed, touching his arm lightly. “Sorry, sorry. Just couldn't help myself…” He huffed, biting into his food. “Are ya having fun, Luffy?” You poked him, wanting to hold his attention. You had a plan to lure him away. “Hell yeah. Look at how much food I get to eat!” He exclaimed, devouring all the food in his plate so inhumanely fast it surprised you that he didn't choke. Feeling the liquid courage take over your brain, you leaned into his ear. “Wanna have more fun?” You whispered.

Luffy turned to you, looking slightly confused. “More fun? What do you mean? How?” You smiled, taking his hand and running towards the nearest bedroom in the building. “Hey! Where are we going?! Is the fun this way?” He asked, you looked back at him briefly and nodded your head. He shrugged, accepting the adventure. You entered the room, throwing Luffy in before locking the door behind you. “For this to be fun for both of us you have to trust me.” He nodded his head. “I trust you.” You swallowed a lump forming in your throat as nerves suddenly hit you. You took a deep breath, focusing instead on how much you wanted to have a moment alone with Luffy. All the thoughts you had about him, about what you wanted to do to him. You looked into his eyes, taking his hand and guiding him to the bed behind him. You pushed him down, making him prop himself up slightly with his elbows.

You draped your legs over either side of his hips. Straddling him. “Close your eyes.” You whispered. He obliged. You leaned in, kissing him softly. His eyebrows furrowed at the contact, slowly leaning into the feeling of your lips on his. Your lips were soft and they made his body feel hot. He began kissing you back, much to your surprise. Luffy didn't seem like a guy who was very interested, much less knew how to kiss. His hands found their way to your thighs, your skin felt soft under his hands. It excited him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. You fully sat on his lap as you kissed him deeper. Your tongue peeked out to lick his bottom lip, earning a low groan from the straw hat captain. His hands landed on your hips, his thumbs tracing circles under your shirt. The feeling of his rough hands on your skin was overwhelming. You wanted more.

You pulled away, looking at Luffy’s face. It was flushed, his half-lidded eyes looked up into yours. It took everything in you not to completely attack him. You held his gaze, taking your shirt off and tossing it aside. He took his hands and trailed them all over your exposed skin, causing shivers to course throughout your body. You rocked your hips into his, your arousal was too much to bear but you wanted to savor this moment as much as you could. He hardened in his denim shorts, groaning as he felt you rub yourself onto him. You kissed him passionately, exploring his mouth with your tongue. Luffy had collapsed on the bed beneath him, taking one of his hands and placing it on your ass as the other gripped the hair behind your head. You continued grinding into him, moaning softly into his mouth as you chased more friction. Growing frustrated about the lack of complete contact between you, Luffy tossed you onto your back. He hovered over you, taking off the clothes that remained on your body.

He sat on the bed, taking off his own clothing quickly as he breathed heavily. He wanted to feel you with his whole body. “Now you got me all excited.” He said, scanning your body hungrily. The way he looked at you like you were a piece of meat simply for his enjoyment thrilled you. Luffy threw himself onto you, leaving a trail of wet kisses on your neck. His bare cock grinding into your core. You hissed, imagining how it’ll feel inside you. You felt him twitch as he rubbed against you, groaning into your neck. You grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled him back. He looked down at you, his eyes blackened with lust. “I need to feel you inside me Luffy, please.” You begged him with your eyes. He was salivating, drool dripping onto your bare chest.

He lined himself up with your entrance, biting his lip in anticipation. The feeling of him stretching you caused you to grip onto the blankets. Luffy let out a loud moan as you wrapped around him. He collapsed onto his hands, hovering over you once again. He moved slowly in and out of you, his eyes rolling at the feeling. “You feel so fucking good.” He whispered, keeping an excruciatingly slow pace. You pulled him closer to you, kissing him. Your hands scratched his back as you ran them all over his body. The room filled with loud moans and lewd sounds coming from your bodies. You were thankful for the party in the distance muffling everything.

Luffy picked up his pace, moving faster and sloppier as he thrust into you. He was unraveling in front of you. He felt better than you imagined. His cock stretched inside you, reaching spots you had no idea you had. Your moans got louder as you inched closer to your climax. Luffy’s cock had started twitching inside you, you could tell by his incoherent sentences that he was close too. Every word that fell from his lips to express his pleasure was slurred and strained. You closed your eyes, your vision turning red and your ears ringing as you reached your high. You clamped down on him as you came, yelling out his name in the process. That’s what did it for him. He shot his hot load into you, his body quivered as he rode out his climax. He collapsed onto you, attempting to catch his breath.

You pulled away from him, your head spinning from the feeling he gave you. Speechless, you looked at him. “I didn't know you had that in you.” You chuckled breathlessly. Luffy smiled, clearly feeling satisfied. He took a moment before getting up and getting dressed. He helped you pick up your scattered clothing. You kissed his lips gently once you were dressed. You knew he would leave tomorrow, and now you had this shared experience that only the two of you will have memory of. A low grumble came from his stomach, breaking the sweet moment between you. “Worked up an appetite I guess” Luffy laughed, making his way to the door. He stopped for a moment, looking back at you with his hand on the doorknob. “That was fun.” He smiled, opening the door and walking through it. You giggled, following him out of the room and rejoining the banquet.

#one piece #one piece fic #opla #x reader #one piece smut #luffy x reader #monkey d luffy #opla luffy #monkey d luffy x reader #opla luffy x reader #luffy smut #one piece luffy #THAT MF GIF OF ANIME LUFFY

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loveinhawkins · 9 months

Text

Part 1 ao3

When Robin and Eddie return to the trailer, Steve is still unconscious.

“Fuck, should we be worried that—how long can someone…?”

Eddie trails off, goes to check his watch reflexively before remembering that it’s stopped.

Robin shakes her head.

“This kinda thing happened, um. Before. I didn’t see much, but I… I don’t think… Billy Hargrove was completely—well. Steve had to, like, crash a car into him, and I, uh, sorta blacked out? For a bit of it? But he just walked it off, I think. Eventually. Billy, I mean. Like his body wasn’t fully… Like he didn’t really feel it.”

Eddie stares at her, reeling. A dozen thoughts scramble to be heard, many not helpful in the slightest—namely that Billy Hargrove stalked the basketball court like there was something seething within him every goddamn school day, so he can’t even imagine what that combined with the uncanny strength of The Mind Flayer would bring.

And the real major concern is—

“But Hargrove died.”

Robin looks up from where she’s been checking Steve’s head. Her fingertips are flecked with blood.

“He didn’t die from—he wasn’t killed by. By a person,” she says jerkily. “So we… we should be fine to…” She eyes the cistern lid, but her face drains of colour again.

Eddie exhales. “One problem at a time.”

He grabs Steve underneath the armpits, Robin holding his legs up.

They take him to the bedroom. Set him down, back leaning against the cabinet.

Eddie finds the handcuffs and gingerly attaches one end to a drawer handle, the other around Steve’s wrist.

Steve doesn’t even stir at the touch. His head lolls down unnaturally.

“They better not be the shitty plastic kind,” Robin says. “I’m not having him escape cause all you had was a Baby’s First Magic Set.”

Eddie’s startled into a weak chuckle.

“Excuse you, Buckley, these are the bona fide, genuine article.”

It had become a joke in the first place, actually keeping them. A year ago, maybe two. A girl from Loch Nora with a college boyfriend had either naively or intentionally thrown an open invite party—Eddie had only gone out of curiosity, wanting to see just how impressive the living space was.

He’d barely lasted an hour there, because a shithead of a ‘concerned’ neighbour called the cops on young people ‘loitering sinisterly’—as if their precious hydrangeas were in danger of being uprooted and sold.

Eddie got grouped in with a select lucky few accused of stealing. He hadn’t been, but he figured he might as well try and get something out of it. It was either Callahan’s wallet or his cuffs; Eddie picked the wrong pocket.

Now he thinks he actually lucked out, in a grim kind of way.

They take stock of everything they’ve got: lighter fluid; a couple space heaters discovered in the RV, another one found next to Wayne’s folding bed. A few bottles of alcohol along with cloths and spears. One walkie. Lighters.

Rope.

Nancy had left with Dustin in the RV. The plan had been for her to drop him off at the Creel House before returning to the Gate at the trailer.

But Eddie caught the steely glint in her eye as she readied herself in the driver’s seat.

Dustin sat by the table. He pinched his bottom lip between his fingers and tugged, harsh enough to draw blood. His hand was shaking.

Eddie couldn’t look at him.

He turned to Nancy.

“You’re not coming back,” he said in an undertone.

It was only once he’d spoken that he realised it didn’t come out as a question.

Nancy grabbed him by the wrist, pulled him close to whisper in his ear.

“Going to another Gate. Where Fred…”

Eddie understood: it was a last-minute change that she alone was in control of. One that Steve didn’t know.

And if Steve didn’t know, then…

The engine rumbled into life.

Eddie got out—had one last look, hand on the door. There were tanks of gasoline wedged behind Nancy’s seat.

Dread chilled him. He wanted to tell her that she shouldn’t be alone. That when she burned it all down, she needed someone to pull her back lest she get caught in the flames, too.

He didn’t say any of that.

Because Nancy just looked at him with something close to sympathy, as if she could tell everything he was thinking; it was already clear that whatever he said, it wouldn’t make a difference.

It didn’t stop him from trying.

“Nancy. Be careful.”

She nodded. “You too.”

Eddie shut the door behind him.

He was halfway back to the porch when he realised that the RV hadn’t pulled away. He heard the door opening again, began to turn, and was almost bowled over by the force of Dustin’s hug.

“Hey,” he said softly, once he’d caught his breath.

He ruffled Dustin’s hair and then stopped near the end of the motion, kept his hand there. Just held him.

He didn’t say it was okay, because it wasn’t.

Dustin sniffed. He pulled back and finally looked Eddie right in the eye.

“We’ll get him back,” Dustin said.

His voice wavered in the middle. But his determination was much stronger than the falter had been.

Eddie put his hands on Dustin’s shoulders. Nodded.

It was obvious that when it came to Steve Harrington, Dustin would go to the ends of the earth for him. And here he was, doing the hardest thing in the world: leaving Steve behind.

Compared to everyone else, Eddie thought, his job was simple, really. All he had to do was prove Dustin’s trust in him.

Steve’s face twitches when Robin shuts the window.

Eddie watches closely, holding his breath.

One eye opens, barely a slit. Moves sluggishly before finding Eddie.

“Hi,” Steve says.

He sounds… normal.

“Hi,” Eddie echoes cautiously. “Are you—um. Are you…?”

He trails off, feeling immensely stupid. What was he even gonna ask? Are you okay? Like he honestly was expecting Steve to say, Oh, could be better, but the malevolent entity inside me is a fucking bummer, man.

“How’re you feeling?” he settles on, because Steve still hasn’t moved, at least seems in control, and Eddie’ll take any semblance of normality he can get.

“M’okay,” Steve says, after a pause.

He lifts his head up slightly, notices the handcuffs. Gives a faint nod of approval. With his free hand, he gestures vaguely to the back of his skull.

“Feels… distant. I dunno.”

“Good, uh, that’s good,” Eddie says conversationally, like that will take away the reality of what he’s currently doing: tying Steve’s legs together with rope.

Both of Steve’s eyes open, his gaze turns sharper, calculating, and Eddie tenses—

“Eddie,” Steve drawls. He sounds supremely unimpressed. He shifts his legs and the knot Eddie made goes slack. “Tighter, dude.” “Oh, I’m sorry, not of all of us got our Scout’s badge.”

“Here,” Robin says. She nudges Eddie out of the way and binds Steve’s legs; the knots don’t budge. She gives a half smile. “At least Starcourt was educational.”

Steve laughs through his nose, but he grimaces a bit, like something Robin’s said is distasteful.

She puts a hand on his knee, peers at him. “Still here,” she says.

It isn’t a question, but Steve answers anyway. “Still here.”

Robin ties his free hand to another drawer handle.

Eddie catches a glimpse while he’s turning on the heaters, and his stomach twists—unbidden, thinks of Christ on the cross.

Steve nods at the heaters. “Put ‘em closer.”

Eddie does. He keeps waiting for a change, ready to leap back, but it doesn’t come. The only difference is that the pulse point in Steve’s neck starts to jump rapidly when the heaters are tilted towards him, but even that’s nothing like before, nothing like the frenzy in the bathroom.

Eddie puts his palm in front of one of the grilles. It’s only just been turned on, sure, but he can’t help thinking that it’s not nearly strong enough.

He stands in front of Steve, Robin by his side.

No-one moves.

Then Robin speaks out the side of her mouth. “Should you still…?”

Her fingers curl, palm up, and Eddie realises that she’s mimicking fret positions.

“Yeah,” Steve says before Eddie can answer, and Robin jumps. “Should still work.” His cuffed hand twitches. “S’in… Vecna. Me. Not enough… can’t control bats, too. Not—not all of ‘em at once.”

His throat clicks as he swallows, like the words are getting stuck.

“Should follow. Like… like, um.” His eyes widen for a split second, as if in panic, before he swallows again and says, a little clearer, “Pied Piper.”

Eddie glances between Steve and Robin. “Okay,” he says eventually. He steps back while Robin remains where she is. “I’ll—”

“No,” Steve says, and this time the panic remains; he shakes his head urgently. “Not alone. Don’t—not alone with—with me.”

“Steve,” Robin says.

“No,” Steve repeats, and there’s a fierceness to the word—Eddie feels it thrum in his chest, and he somehow knows that it’s not from any unnatural force, that the power is being drawn from Steve alone.

“Buckley,” Eddie says reluctantly.

She squares her shoulders. Takes a step back, eyes never leaving Steve.

Something in Steve unwinds, relaxes. His head droops, almost like he’s falling asleep. A stark vein in his neck pulses.

“Good,” he murmurs. “Good.”

Robin pauses at the door. Her eyes dart to the heaters, then Eddie.

“Are they…?”

“Highest they’ll go,” Eddie says.

Robin bites her lip.

Eddie knows what she’s thinking: that Nancy said unbearable, and right now barely one corner of the room is being warmed.

“It just takes time to, uh, kick in,” Eddie says.

It doesn’t sound convincing—sounds like he’s free-falling, desperately searching for something to hang onto.

But Robin accepts it, Eddie thinks, because what choice does she have? What choice do any of them have?

“Eddie,” Steve says, just as Robin’s stepped out of the room.

“Yeah?”

Steve wets his lips. Swallows again. It looks painful.

“It’s gonna… make him mad.”

Fear seeps down Eddie’s spine.

“We’ll come back,” he says, because right now, it’s the only promise he can make. “We’re not leaving you alone.”

“S’okay,” Steve says. He’s starting to slur his words. “Better this way.”

They tumble through the Gate as quickly as they can, then immediately set up the trailer defences.

“We’re lucky this is here,” Eddie says when they’re done, as he picks his electric guitar off the wall, untouched by vines.

“Yeah,” Robin says. “Lucky…”

She abruptly gasps and runs from the room.

Eddie curses, follows her—flinging the guitar across his back.

But there’s nothing in the living room, no bats to fight—just Robin pulling something out from behind Wayne’s bed, laughing with a touch of hysteria.

“Jesus,” Eddie breathes, “you’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

Then he actually processes what he’s looking at. Robin’s brought out a space heater, a bulky kerosene-fuelled one, much larger than what they’d originally rustled up.

“But that—that broke last winter,” Eddie says, bewildered.

Robin doesn’t say anything, just turns it on. The effect is almost immediate compared to what they’ve been working with: the heater glows red-hot, and Eddie already feels the urge to take off his jacket.

“Eddie,” Robin says slowly. “It’s 1983.”

“Holy shit,” Eddie says. He grabs her by the shoulders. “You’re a fucking genius.”

Robin turns the heater off, drags it to a point just underneath the Gate.

There’s a couple more treasures they manage to stash away: a match box found on the counter, thrown into a deep cooking pot Robin snatches from a cupboard.

“Oh, you mean business,” Eddie says. “That’s the good pot.”

Robin grins, and it makes Eddie’s heart ache—he knows what they’re doing, forcing smiles to hide their shaking hands.

“And what goddamn atrocity befalls it in the future?”

“That’s between me and God.”

They’re up on the roof, Robin crouched by the amp, when Eddie hears the Walkie crackle.

“Max is—bait’s still been taken,” comes Erica’s staticky voice.

“Uh, copy that,” Eddie says. “Sinclair. Henderson with you?”

A click.

“I’m here,” Dustin says quietly.

Eddie breathes out. “Good. Stick together.”

He sets the walkie down and yanks off his guitar pick. He thinks of Chrissy, her body contorting. Of Patrick, dragged from the water.

Steve’s hands clenched around the sink.

“Showtime, Buckley.”

The noise is explosive. It barely takes a few seconds for the bats to start coming; Eddie watches the horizon as his fingers fly over the strings.

Underneath everything, he can hear Robin counting out bars like she’s in band: One, two, three, four. Two, two, three, four.

Prestissimo.

“Eddie, two more bars!”

He nods in acknowledgement. Feels his heart pound as if in time with the music.

“Now!”

They run. The bats circle dumbly round the roof, some clustered onto the still ringing amp, like moths drawn to light.

Pied Piper.

“Go, go, go!” Eddie urges.

It’s tricky getting the heater through, but they manage it between them, an awkward handover across the Gate.

And then Eddie’s falling, landing next to Robin, breathless. They sit up as one, give each other a speechless high five.

Robin moves first. But she stops midway to Eddie’s room—like a reversal of when he was first brought to a standstill, seeing Chrissy’s eyelids fluttering erratically.

“Eddie,” Robin says. “You—you closed the door, right?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, mouth dry.

He knows that for certain because as he shut the door, his last glimpse was of Steve leaning the back of his head against the cabinet drawers, eyes closed.

Now the door’s ajar.

Eddie strains to listen, but he can’t hear anything.

He feels Robin’s hand dart into his. He squeezes tight before letting go. She picks up the heater. He’s got the cooking pot under his arm.

Together, they open the door.

The space heaters they’d left are broken, cracked down the middle. The handcuffs are dangling from the drawer handle, pried open, the ropes frayed apart—and the whole room is littered with…

Shards of wood. Snapped strings.

Eddie’s guitars. They’re shattered beyond repair, the red of the Warlock mixed with the dark wood of the acoustic.

And there, backed into the far corner, is Steve.

He’s cradling his wrist to his chest—it looks badly broken. Even from here, Eddie can see evidence of splinters embedded in both hands.

But above all, what’s drawing Eddie’s attention is that his shirt is off, revealing the state of his stomach, the bandages shoddily ripped away. The wound is oozing slow, thick trickles of black and red.

Steve doesn’t seem aware that anyone’s entered the room, just mutters indecipherably to himself, hair hanging down in front of his eyes.

Eddie manages to set the pot down silently—takes one hesitant step forward, cringes when he jostles a piece of wood.

Steve’s head jerks up at the sound. He stares at Eddie, a crease in his forehead.

“Who’re you?”

Robin lets out a breath like she’s been punched in the stomach.

“It’s…” Eddie clears his throat. Stays as still as he can. “It’s me, man. It’s Eddie.”

Steve doesn’t reply.

More wood scatters across the floor—Robin stepping forward frantically, “Steve, it’s me, it’s—”

Eddie stops her with a touch to the back of her hand.

“Steve,” he says, digs deep to find a calm tone. “Who’s this?”

Steve’s jaw works.

“R… R…”

Robin’s face shatters.

She sets the heater down. Turns it on full blast.

“Robin!” Steve gasps. “Robin, it’s me, I’m still—Robin, Robin, please—”

Robin takes another step—“Careful,” Eddie whispers, heart in his throat—and forcibly shoves the heater across the room.

Steve tries to dodge it, but he’s not quick enough; the grille slams against his arm, and Eddie inhales sharply as the skin blisters an angry, weeping red.

Steve’s cries are piercing.

But they reach a peak than taper off into whimpers; he presses himself against the wall, curls his upper body around his blistered arm.

He starts to sob.

They have to get closer to hear, stepping into the circle of heat radiating from the grille, Eddie just behind Robin; sweat pools in the small of his back.

“No, no…”

It’s a dreadful whisper.

They crouch down. Slow.

It doesn’t look like Steve notices: his eyes are shut tight, lashes damp as he continues to plead, “Don’t make me. Please don’t make me.”

Eddie can’t blame Robin for what she does next.

It’s instinct—he’d seen it in his peripheral vision at the boathouse, her hand reaching out to comfort, like she couldn’t stop herself.

No, he can’t blame her. Because Steve is hurting, sobbing like his heart is going to break from it, and he’s right there.

Robin’s hand moves forward.

Eddie sees the moment Steve’s eyes open, cold and inhuman, and Christ, for a millisecond too long, he’d forgotten that they had stepped into the ring with a cobra.

“Robin,” Eddie warns, too late, as Steve’s hand seizes her wrist.

“Don’t worry,” he says, and it’s almost perfect, almost Steve’s gentle concern, but there’s something off in the inflection, a misplaced note—“I’m not killing you first.”

He twists Robin’s hand.

She doesn’t scream, doesn’t even try to move, like she’s holding her breath just to stay silent.

“I can…” Steve breathes in and out through his nose. Predatory. “I can feel her.”

“Who?” Robin says.

A vague noise rumbles from Steve’s chest, like he’s searching for a name again.

“N… Nancy,” he says eventually. “She’s dying,” he says, off-hand. “She can’t breathe.”

Eddie reaches behind. Feels carpet beneath his palm. Steve doesn’t track the movement, eyes fixed on Robin.

“She will be like… like her friend. She will know how it feels to die alone.”

Steve grunts, and then…

Eddie has to bite down on his tongue to stop himself from making a sound; the skin around Steve’s stomach wound ripples, like there’s something bubbling up underneath, moving, alive, crawling up, up, up—mottled veins spreading, black as tar.

Eddie swallows back bile as his hand finds something solid. Wood.

He feels for the lighter in his pocket.

Steve leans towards Robin, baring his teeth.

“I will—”

Click.

“—consume her.”

The jagged piece of guitar burns in Eddie’s hand.

He throws it.

Sparks fly, land directly in Steve’s eyes, and he yells, lets go of Robin—with such an impact that she’s thrown across the room, landing slumped against the cabinet.

“Robin!”

But Eddie doesn’t have any time to help her, because there’s another click, a crackle, and the walkie comes to life, and it must be on accident because all he can hear is the sound of someone—Dustin and Erica—breathing quickly. Running.

Steve’s eyes narrow.

Eddie thinks of Dustin saying, “He knows where we are, he’ll know—”

“Shit,” Eddie hisses.

He tries, desperately, to turn the walkie off, but it suddenly feels like all the air leaves his lungs, and he’s pinned against the wall, Steve’s hand on his chest.

The walkie’s wedged between them. Steve’s somehow using his broken wrist to still Eddie’s hand, to keep the walkie turned on.

Eddie has no choice but to listen to what comes through the static.

It’s chaos. Heavy, frantic breathing; it’s like he can feel the kids clutching their sides as they run. In the distance, a car, the engine stopping. A door opens.

Jason Carver’s voice. “Did you see them?”

Behind Steve, Eddie spots Robin stirring.

Steve keeps staring down at the walkie.

An abrupt cry of pain, and another voice curses, says, “Shit, Jason, I think it’s broken.”

“El?” Dustin breathes.

Something in Steve’s face flickers, but Eddie’s too terrified to know what it means—tries and fails to turn the walkie off again, but he doesn’t even know what’s the right thing to do anymore. He just wants them to be okay, he just wants—

“Jason, no-one’s fucking there. You—you can’t even stand, I’m taking you to the hosp—”

A car door slamming shut. An engine starting up, fading…

Gone.

Dustin and Erica exhale shakily. Running again, footsteps pounding up the stairs, across floorboards…

The walkie cuts off.

Steve grits his teeth.

“Please,” Eddie whispers.

Robin’s up, moving so quietly—scooping the remnants of his guitars into the pot.

Another crackle.

“Eddie!” Dustin’s voice again, up close. “Max is—the music’s not working! I—I don’t know what to—”

There it is again: that flicker across Steve’s face. A ripple in a lake.

“Max,” he says.

The name cracks with emotion, and although his voice has been used before, an uncanny imitation, Eddie knows this is different, feels it in his gut; it’s him, it’s him, it’s him.

The snick of a match being struck.

Steve’s head tilts ever so slightly, but he doesn’t turn around. Like he already knows Robin is right behind him.

Instead—

Steve pries the walkie out of Eddie’s hand. Presses down on the button. Inhales.

“Run.”

The walkie drops with a clatter. Behind them, the fierce roar of flames; Eddie’s face stings.

He can feel Steve’s grip on him loosening, feels himself sliding down the wall.

Steve’s eyes bore into his—and although dark veins have spread across the whites, like spider webs, Eddie can still see the slightest gleam of something real in them.

Something human.

Steve’s lips move, cracked and bleeding.

Now, he mouths.

“Robin!” Eddie yells.

Steve lets him go, and Eddie sees a flash of Robin throwing the entire contents of the pot over Steve, raining fire upon him; Eddie covers his face from the scorching heat, scrambling to get away, relying on touch alone, and his hand hits something, the crunch of plastic, fuck, the walkie—

He’s by the doorway, gasping for breath.

Awareness comes in stages: the fire’s gone out, charred remains of the guitars on the ground where Steve once stood; Robin’s there, her hands red raw, and she’s looking at something, what’s she…?

Steve.

Steve dragging himself across the floor, his broken wrist pressed against his stomach. Crawling to sit next to the space heater, head tipped back against the wall, eyes closed. Breathing.

Just breathing.

Then, so faintly, Eddie almost thinks he’s imagined it.

“Railroad… Snow Ball… Muppet.”

Steve thumps the back of his head against the wall with each word.

Robin goes to him.

Eddie can only watch. He feels like he’s staring at a puzzle with too many missing pieces.

Despite everything, Robin reaches out with her hand again. She touches Steve’s knee gently, and Steve falls silent, stops hitting his head.

Robin smiles, tearful.

“You’ve—you’ve changed that song for me forever,” she says, choked up, and although Eddie can’t really understand, he senses the heart in it, the echoes of their story, of their love hitting him square in the chest.

“Do you remember,” Robin goes on, laughing through it, “the first time we were closing, and you—you got that whole bag of chocolate chips? Tore the corner and just, like, scarfed it. You looked like a chipmunk. It was—it was so gross. And you just said let’s see you do better, then. So we just kept eating them, and we had to pretend we had, like, a whole week where every order had chocolate chips just so we could get another shipment. You… you made me feel like I was five years old. That’s—that’s when I knew.” Robin takes a shuddering breath. Keeps smiling. “Right there. I wanted to be your friend.”

Steve just looks at her. He blinks, and a tear falls down his face, and Eddie can see it, like the sun briefly appearing through storm clouds, can see more of him breaking through, and for a moment, just a moment, there could be a chance, please, please…

Steve’s stomach spasms, and he groans, inhales short and sharp, twists away from Robin’s touch; the litany starts again, fever-slurred.

Eddie rediscovers the walkie. There’s cracks all through the plastic—it might not even work.

But Steve keens, pressing, pressing as blood flows through his fingers, as he trips up on the words, almost insensible now, and Eddie knows he has to take the risk.

His thumb pushes the button.

“Dustin,” he murmurs, “don’t tell me where you are. But if you’re—if you’re safe. Christ, please say you’re… Steve, he—he needs you.”

Silence.

Eddie closes his eyes.

“—safe. We’re all safe. I copy.”

Eddie thinks he laughs or something close to it. Maybe something else, too. He presses his forehead against the walkie. A benediction answered.

“Eddie?” Dustin says, and his speech keeps crackling, keeps threatening to cut out, but he’s there, he’s there.

Steve blinks, turns towards the sound of Dustin’s voice.

But Eddie’s not afraid this time.

“Railroad,” Steve repeats. Soft yet intentional, like he means it with everything he has left. “Railroad.”

Eddie passes the word on to Dustin. Waits.

Dustin takes a little while to figure it out—or maybe he solves it almost instantly, but here, time moves slow: just Robin and Eddie holding their breath, Steve only mouthing the words now. Barely there.

Dustin must push his button down mid-gasp, the words rushing out.

“That’s how we—that’s when everything—”

What follows is a garbled speech Eddie can barely make sense of, as static obscures every third word or so: about the junkyard and demodogs, and tunnels, and…

“D-different details, Henderson,” Eddie says with a choked laugh.

Fondness wells up; for a second it had felt like he was listening to Dustin in the middle of a campaign, on a tangent, and Eddie knows he just has to nudge him down the right path and then he’ll work it out, because the kid’s a goddamn genius.

“Stuff he can feel,” Eddie tries.

Steve looks at him, unblinking, and God he’s still in there, Eddie thinks, there’s so many thoughts, so much of him trapped beneath the surface.

So Dustin talks about Queen playing in Steve’s car, of how the fall leaves looked as they walked, of his shoelaces coming loose, and Steve getting down on his knees in exaggerated exasperation, you’re gonna fall flat on your face, dickhead, we’ve got enough going on.

Eddie takes the thread he’s been given, adds embellishments where he can—the crunch of leaves underfoot, the steady clunk of walking on the tracks, Dustin sometimes hurrying a little, just to match Steve’s stride—and as Steve finally blinks slowly, Eddie prays.

Can you feel it? Please go there. Go somewhere safe. Go somewhere it can’t find you. “What—what else did he say?” Robin says, when Steve lips stops moving, and his eyes close; he looks so tired. “Snow Ball?”

“Yeah, that’s—” Eddie pushes the walkie button again, so Dustin can hear. “Didn’t the Middle School have something… Did you do anything for it? Like put up decorations or…?”

Robin shakes her head.

Eddie furiously racks his brains for one detail, anything—curses himself for not paying attention, for shirking the ‘volunteering’ he was forced to do that December in lieu of detention; for viewing it all with a petty indifference, when for others, it must’ve meant so—

He releases the button.

“Did you say Snow Ball?” Dustin asks, before he launches into Steve shielding his eyes from hairspray, of the forest green gift bag his mom had passed into Steve’s hands, of Steve’s surprise, his shy smile—and then it’s Erica who takes over, calling over somewhere, “Lucas, remember when we came to pick you up?”

And the Sinclairs had stayed much longer than expected because Max’s folks were late in collecting her; and when Steve came to pick up Dustin, he’d noticed and stayed, too.

“He didn’t make a big thing of it,” Max says quietly, somewhere distant; Lucas adds that Steve opened up all his car doors so the tape he was playing could be heard: The Carpenters, some Christmas medley.

“He danced with Max,” Lucas says. “We were betting on how many times he could spin her in a row.”

“Ugh, shut up.”

Eddie can hear Max’s eye roll. Her smile.

“And,” Erica says, “he actually enjoyed dad’s small talk. Like, he was fully hooked on mom and Uncle Jack’s gift wrapping contest.”

Eddie smiles, covers his mouth just in case a traitorous noise slips out. The kids sound happy, and he doesn’t want to ruin that for the world.

Steve’s eyes shine, almost like he’s thinking the same thing.

Sorry, he mouths. I’m sorry.

The walkie dies.

Steve groans again, pushing down on his stomach wound. He’s trying to hide it from view, Eddie realises.

Robin keeps reaching for him. “Steve, don’t—let me help. Please.”

Steve shakes his head. “Can’t—can’t hold it back.” His voice is rasping.

“I saw you,” Eddie says, and Robin glances at him. “Last year. At school.”

The memory comes to him all at once, sparked by the kids and the thought of Steve chatting in a parking lot, so at ease.

“I was pissed ‘cause I’d just flunked—doesn’t matter. Was walking it off outside, and you turned into the parking lot, windows down, and you looked so fucking pleased with yourself cause you’d already passed everything. You must’ve had a free period, maybe a double, I dunno. I was,” Eddie huffs self-deprecatingly, “jealous.”

Steve’s head slumps against the wall. His chest rises and falls rapidly, laden with sweat. Eddie tries not to look at the marks—where the burning pieces of wood struck his skin.

Steve’s eyes find his. One long blink.

Keep going.

“You—you were wearing these sunglasses,” Eddie says, and Robin sobs, laughs, like she knows exactly the pair he means. “And you—the radio was on, but I—I can’t remember what was—anyway, you were kinda. Singing. Or, like, humming to yourself. And you were walking to the middle school, you kept throwing your keys in the air. You caught ‘em every damn time.” Eddie chuckles. “Do you know how annoying that was? And I—I just kept watching, ‘till the bell rang, and I just didn’t get it. Didn’t get why you looked so… so happy. But I—” Eddie swallows. “I know now.”

Steve’s mouth tilts, not quite a smile—he’s trying, he’s trying.

“You were gonna go see the kids, huh?” Eddie says. “Surprise them or something, I don’t know. You can tell me later. Promise me? And you—” His voice threatens to go, but he pushes through it, because if there’s one thing Steve needs to hear, it’s this.

Just this.

“You were happy. Because you loved them,” Eddie whispers. “And they loved you.”

Steve breathes in.

And he rises up so suddenly that Robin falls back in alarm. He hits the space heater as he goes, and while it still blisters his skin, he doesn’t cringe away, more deliberately leans into it—

“Quick,” Steve mutters. “He’s mad, he’s mad, we don’t have much—”

And he lies down directly on the bed frame, his stomach still oozing that viscous black and red; Eddie’s stomach drops.

He feels strange, like his body already knows what’s coming before his mind’s caught up.

“Quick, quick—”

The smash of a bottle as Steve fumbles it, spilling alcohol on the floor—he tries again, reaches for lighter fluid and douses the whole bed frame in it.

“Robin,” he says, “Robin, please.”

She’s watching Steve’s every move with wide eyes; Eddie just looks on helplessly.

Fucking move.

“Robin!”

“Steve, I—” She shakes her head, uncomprehending—more like she doesn’t want to understand. “I don’t—”

Steve doubles over, picks something off the floor. Eddie’s distracted—stupid, stupid—watching in horror as more black veins spread up, across Steve’s shoulders, the strained muscles in his neck, and too late, he realises that Steve’s holding a lighter in his hand.

Click.

Steve drops it.

Sets the wooden slats ablaze.

He cries out, back arching—the flames lick higher, higher, and Robin’s screaming Steve’s name, running to him, like she can pull him from the flames…

There’s something else in Steve’s hand.

Robin’s trapped where she’s stood, a broken piece of glass to her neck—and Steve’s struggling against it, but his hand doesn’t move, as beads of blood dot Robin’s skin—

Eddie doesn’t know when it happened. Just knows that he’s holding a spear, and it’s on fire too, flames creeping up…

“Eddie!” Steve says. “Finish it!”

His skin writhes, contorting; Eddie thinks of Chrissy again, of Patrick—and a faint memory of Will Byers, vanishing without a trace.

It was you, Eddie thinks numbly. It was all you.

The glass presses closer still against Robin’s neck. She gasps—

And Steve begs.

“Kill me!”

The stomach wound heaves like a living creature, gaping and monstrous.

“Give him back, you son of a bitch,” Eddie breathes.

He lunges forward.

With all his strength, he digs the spear straight into Steve’s stomach; the flames surge, engulf—

Steve screams.

A black mass pours out of his mouth, and Eddie thinks he’s screaming, too, but he can’t hear anything, can’t hear anything but Steve, the torture in his voice, fuck, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, and the mass hits him; he flies through the air, feels his head smack against something solid.

Then nothing.

He comes to in the living room. Blood dampens the back of his head.

Sits up. Blinks dazedly at the ceiling. The Gate… the Gate’s gone.

Bedroom. Has to… Steve, Robin. Bedroom.

He shoves himself up, wobbles. Forces himself on.

He knows he’s lost time when he nears the room: a chill hits him from the broken window, and the flames have been put out.

Robin. Robin kneeling by the bed, burns all up her arms.

“—open your eyes,” she’s saying. “Oh my God, oh my God.”

Eddie very deliberately doesn’t fully register who she’s talking to. If he does, he’ll freeze, useless. He will never forgive himself.

“Band lungs, Buckley,” he croaks, and then he falls beside her.

Starts compressions.

You’re not going, you’re not going. You’ve got so many people to see again. No. You’re not going.

He tries just to count out loud, but even as he’s doing it, something crumbles, something breaks apart irreparably inside of him, “Don’t you dare leave, don’t you…”

Robin. Two breaths.

“I wanna talk to you, Steve Harrington, and you’re gonna fucking be there to listen, do you understand, do you…”

He loses track of what he’s saying completely, lost to wilder and wilder promises, but it doesn’t matter, nothing matters except this, except the desperate push of his hands, the crack of Steve’s ribs, Robin’s long breaths; and God, Eddie would give anything, anything at all, would tear his fucking heart out if it would help, if it meant that Steve would—

“—just breathe!”

Something jolts underneath his fingers; for a moment, it destroys him: it’s back, it’s—

“That’s it,” Robin’s saying, “there, there, that’s—”

Eddie’s head sinks down to his knees.

Wretched coughs. Gasping.

“He can’t—Eddie, he can’t breathe.”

Eddie staggers over to the window. Makes the hole bigger, again and again. Glass slices through his palms.

“That’s better, huh?” Robin’s murmuring, and Eddie can’t look at her, can’t look at who’s in her arms; if he does, the proof will shatter, and that can’t… he has to…

The phone rings.

Eddie goes to it. His arm lifts, heavy and delayed. Like he’s in a dream.

On the other end, a terrified voice.

Mike. Mike Wheeler crying.

“Did it work?”

“I—” There’s a high-pitched ringing in Eddie’s ears; he shakes his head. “I don’t—”

“I-is Nancy there? Where’s Nancy?”

And there’s that gut feeling again, the one that pulled Eddie out of the RV in the first place; “Hang on,” he says to Mike, and he lets the phone fall, pushes the front door open to stand on the porch, breathing in shallow, frigid breaths.

There’s something coming out from behind the trees.

Closer and closer, and Eddie almost assumes the worst.

But it’s Nancy. There’s ash in her hair, and she’s drenched, coated in black sludge; her teeth flash as she smiles, a pocket knife gleaming in her hand.

“I made my own Gate,” she says.

Barely missing a beat, she tilts her head to the side to throw up. She wipes her mouth with the back of her sleeve, spreads more thick tar across her face.

Underneath everything, there’s a scarlet ring around her throat.

“Your brother,” is all Eddie can get out.

Her eyes blaze white-hot.

“Mike,” she says, clutching the phone so tightly, like she would do the very same if she could hold his hand. “It’s gone, it’s all gone.” And then, louder, louder, trembling, “And whoever’s fucking listening on here, get us help. I know you’re there. I won’t stop. I won’t—”

Eddie knows she says more. She must do.

But he can’t stop staring down at his hands. At the blood.

He steps forward—almost sways, and Nancy catches his wrist.

“Don’t go outside without me. Don’t talk to anyone apart from us, Eddie. Okay? They won’t touch you. I won’t let them.”

Eddie thinks he manages a nod. He believes her. Her jaw quivers, but her head’s held up high: if a gun was pressed to her head, he knows the bullet wouldn’t take.

The phone call continues, but the sound is muffled, underwater.

Eddie comes back to himself in the bedroom doorway.

Robin’s still by the bed.

Steve’s lying there, eyes closed. His stomach’s still bleeding, slow, slow, but the veins have gone, they’ve…

“Eddie.” Robin reaches out a hand to him. “Come on. You… you can feel him breathing from here.”

Why don’t you hate me?

He should leave. He should leave.

He doesn’t deserve…

But Robin keeps reaching, and Eddie’s on his knees next to her, a coward, you’re a fucking coward.

“Here,” Robin says.

She guides Eddie’s hand. Places it on Steve’s sternum, above the awful wound, above all the pain Eddie caused—

There. A rise and fall.

Just breathing.

Eddie’s breath catches.

“I thought—” He shudders. “I thought I’d—”

Robin must sense it before he does, before he even really knows it’s happening.

“You’re okay,” she says, and she pulls him into her embrace—keeps one hand on Steve as she does.

Good, Eddie thinks. He needs to know you’re there. He shouldn’t be alone.

He turns his face into Robin’s shoulder, and weeps.

#flayed steve harrington #body horror cw #pre steddie #steddie #steddie fic #steve and robin #eddie and robin #steve and the party #steve and dustin #eddie and dustin #eddie and nancy #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #dustin henderson

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portgasdwrld · 6 months

Note

hi! can you write about what ace would do if reader have trouble sleeping? They’re not in a relationship but there’s smth going on. He’d see her several nights outside on the ship when he’s on watch duty and he’s sorta worried

Seasick

✧.* sleepless nights/ GN!reader x Ace

✧.* no warning, fluff

✧.*Im not sure if you wanted y/n to not be able to sleep because of their feelings for Ace and him not knowing. Anyways 🍃I added a bit of both

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Your eyes are staring off at the sea as you watch the waves collapse in each other embrace and the moon guiding the boat through the darkness of the night. The ship is rocking against the water to the snoozes of the early one who fell asleep as your body is leant towards the rail where your arms find support. Your eyes are heavy but your mind is too occupied to allow you to sleep.

Questions about life, about your existent, your goals are flooding your thoughts like it never did before. You find yourself doubting everything even your friends and yourself too. Life just seem so too confusing right now. Your heart is everywhere but nowhere at the same time.

You sigh as you extend your hand to the horizon as if you could catch the sea in your hand. You smile foolishly to yourself as you let it fall down again on the rail.

This night is cold and windy.

With all that, you haven’t notice Ace slowly approaching you. You only notice when you feel a blanket on your shoulders and his cologne charming your senses. You stare at him with tired eyes as you mumble your gratitude before looking away.

-What is keeping you awake so late?

He starts with a slightly worried expression as he joins you in your staring. You scoff a little before addressing him your attention once again.

- I can’t sleep.

-You haven’t been sleeping well for quite some time..

-How do you know ?

-I have been on night-watch this last few days, dummy..but really what’s going on?

You don’t answer as you let his word sink in. You haven’t been sleeping good for days and he is right. You don’t even know why you feel the way you do, maybe it’s because of how your heart feel sick next to him, how your head feel dizzy. He was making you feel seasick.

-Im just caught up in my head, we all have those moments, right?

Ace opens his mouth to speak, but a harsh blow of the wind makes you flinch. He’s quick to catch the blanket and quickly put it back on you. But, he notices how your body is affected by the weather.

-Let me warm you up

He says as he softly takes your forearm and pulls you in, so he’s back hugging you. You close your eyes for a moment enjoying the warmth of his body and the feeling of dizziness slowly creeps up.

You feel his arms hold you tighter against his chest and the feeling of dizziness becomes unbearable as your heart beats faster. Your body relaxes against his familiar energy and a yawn leaves your lips as you feel sleepy.

-You make me feel sleepy.

-Good, you will rest a little then.

You feel him smile as he says that. He talks about the sea and some stories about his childhood and his little brother. Between all this, you find peace within your mind. The feeling of seasickness left and now you are faced with the obvious fact:

You like him.

-Hey, are you even listening?

He asks you as he feels that he has lost your attention. You blink and a soft smile curve your lips as your body is thrown into an epiphany. Warmth and joy tingle your body as your heart embrace the feeling with excitement. You slightly turn and look at his beautiful brown eyes. He smiled back and suddenly his freckles, his lips, his cheeks all seems so kissable. Your eyes glitter as your mouth speak for your heart.

-I like you Ace

#one piece #one piece headcanons #tomiewrites🌷#one piece x reader #portgas d ace #portgas ace x you #ace one piece #ace fluff #ace sabo luffy #portgas ace fluff #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace fluff #portgas ace smut #portgas d ace smut #portagas d. ace #portgas d ace x reader #portgas ace #one piece fluff

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carionto · 4 months

Text

Sticking things into the ground just works. sorta

Relativistic sub-space anchor. A miracle of advanced technology. It hooks "into" the fabric of space itself. This enables us to... uhh, I'm sure there's some application.

Basically, it's a really fancy gyroscope with a billion exotic particles doing quantum things in a relativistic way and other garbled science words.

In short - turn it on and it and whatever it is attached to stays in place. Not in relation to any other objects. In the, let's say, "grid" coordinates of space.

So, everything in space is always moving, right? - planets, stars, galaxies, space whales, dark matter, and so on. The scale and gravitational influence of some of these is so massive that it 'looks' like you're stationary, but only in relation to the home object. The sub-space anchor, in contrast, would appear to move at roughly ludicrous speeds the moment you activated one.

Now, only the infused particle quantum matter energy actually stays in place, so the 'handbrake' nature of the act means any other attached matter would experience g-forces the likes of which nothing else can achieve in literally no time at all. Like, not even a nanosecond. The anchor only interacts with the space part in space-time.

The first ones we experimented on, umm, ripped apart our lab, so we didn't actually realize what had happened properly until the third time. And even then we figured it out only because, technically speaking, the Moon moved into the anchor, causing a minor explosion that we managed to notice.

We tried using it as a sort of instant maneuvering "jet" for our fighter craft, where the anchor is connected with semi-elastic girders to the rest of the ship, activate it for the shortest burst possible, then fling it in the desired direction. So far nothing has endured more than two such swings. Half the time most of the outer plating and mounted platforms just get thrown off.

As a weapon itself, it's not really that useful. You have to position it first since our relative motion within space is mostly constant, and the speed is less than our rail guns anyway, plus all the tech that goes into the anchor. I mean, yeah, it's neat to make someone hit an immovable rod, but, uhh, shooting a piece of ore with magnets works better. We'll stick with that.

And lasers. Lasers are cool.

#humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #humans are deathworlders #humanity fuck yeah #carionto

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badchoicesworld · 9 months

Note

hello there! i just found your blog and i love your writing for hobie, so i’d like to request another thing for him.

would you mind doing something about a transmasc vigilante reader who tags along with hobie on patrols and late night hangouts? hobie and the reader could diy their own costumes together :) maybe reader is black cat, another spiderperson, or whatever you want to come up with. thanks in advance, and i’ll probably request again soon!

hobie brown with a transgender, vigilante reader (ftm)

RAAHH thank you so much :]

i chose for the reader to be another spidersona, probably anarchist and super cool, hope this is okay! let me know if not

warnings: unsafe binding (there’s a warning ahead)

pairing: hobie brown x transmasc!reader

requests: open ! PLEASE

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

for you and hobie to get along so well and hang out outside of missions n such, i imagine you’re a spider-man who rejected miguel’s “invitation” to spider society. this is what might have led to you becoming a vigilante who’s occasionally recruited by spider society after some begging- or you’ve just been a vigilante from day one in your dimension.

but ! who’s likely to notice such a person? hobie, obviously. you two become menaces and no one looks forward to being in a room with you. hobie destroys their faith in the constitution while you’re reinforcing everything

during missions, you make a hell of a team ! there’s somehow this real nonchalant feeling to the atmosphere even if you’re punching down baddies

banter, plenty of it back and forth while swinging about and fighting for ur life

probably makes fun of your form or something playfully, makes a comment or two about a punch you’ve thrown “you call tha’ a punch?” “Naaah, nahnahnahnahnah. watch this,” probably does worse let’s be honest, throws the dirties punch known to man but it does the trick

you’re more stealth while hobie’s way more out there, style n all that

hobie dropping in on some operation to take down the big baddies while shredding away at his electric guitar, meanwhile he’s able to see you picking off people from vantage points

whenever you’ve gotta wait about for some patrols or just observe for a night, you two will find some sorta rooftop to perch on top of and patrol from there. but the view kills

you two probably have a sort of routine: completing missions together for the spider society, hobie then tags along for some vigilante work, then you both kick back at his place once the days come to an end

chill night consists of hobie subconsciously strumming at a note occasionally on his guitar while you talk about whatever together

a lot of complaining about the institution, probably how much miguel fucking sucks

depending on ur current situation with transitioning, given that hobie knows, mans is probably the most supportive person you’ll meet

hobie lives in a society that he actively chooses to protect despite being apart of the margin of people that are still severely oppressed to terrible degrees, be it for his race or how he chooses to express himself (in my head, hobie’s also a boy kisser). so i think that he has a certain passion for protecting those minority groups. you, as a trans man, sometimes get the hobie brown special treatment.

let’s you crash at his place whenever you need it, let’s you borrow his clothes n shit if they help you feel more masculine, will give you tips n tricks that either he uses or has heard work great for presenting masculine

does your makeup if you want it, like making your face look more chisel, fake facial hair or brows more blocky- that kinda shit.

if you’re yet to go through the execution process (top surgery), hobie’s ur guy (a terrible terrible influence)

if you have a binder, good for you- hobie is going to find it and customise it for you because he’s hilarious

probably does some like web stitching into it, lil embroidered parts that match his pins or something like “hobie was here” in his clapped handwriting

this isn’t anything new, you two have this little game going on where you just steal and tag each others things for shits and giggles. his best work? punk-ifying your binders with those like spikes he has on his jackets shoulder pads

firm believer in trans men being shirtless in a binder is normalising something that should’ve been from the beginning- probably also marched a free the titties campaign for all body types and identities cause they aren’t inherently sexual and shouldn’t be (if cis men can, why can’t cis women, y’know?)

if he accidentally damages your shit he’ll either fix or replace it, maybe even make something to compensate

or it becomes part of the fit

these lil things have helped personalise your things greatly- there’s nice little details all over that make you both crack smiles

makes sure that throughout missions you’re good if you’re binding, which he honestly just doesn’t dictate. won’t be the type to tell you off for wearing it too long or during missions, it’s not your fault that you’re just doing what makes you feel more like yourself

instead just makes sure that you’re well rested after the missions over and does things for you so you don’t strain

(DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME. I WILL FIND YOU.)

if by some unfortunate twist of fate you don’t have a binder, hobie will probably diy you one. argues that they can be mass produced by corporations, why can’t he make one by hand? just one more win for the anarchists

diy binders are dangerous, especially if they’re not made right. i’d like to think hobie would try his best, but i imagine he doesn’t have access to the right materials

in this case, he probably rips apart his shit trying to find the right elastic cloths for your safety

that, or he makes a makeshift binders just a bit looser than it should be to reduce the risk of hurting you.

absolute worst case scenario ? could honestly fashion something out of webs (i have a spidersona that does this) mans a genius, he’ll figure something out

positive ? binder looks sick since he makes it

(ok ur safe, continue)

if you’ve got top surgery, good for u, hobie will have ur head if you don’t take the appropriate recovery time

if you are involved with spider society, he either takes your missions for you or absolutely terrorises miguel into not giving you any

you think it’s just a subconscious, casual thing that hobie does but he always manages to slip a “lad” “boy” “man” into his sentences whenever speaking to or about you. gender affirmations innit

that being said, hobie views you as a man wholeheartedly

hobie’s into physical touch so probably got an arm slung around your shoulder, tons of playfully nudges whenever he sees fit (often)

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

i also wanna stress rq that the way i portray hobie; he’s so incredibly supportive, hype man, but he’s not this sunshine and rainbows thing i’ve seen some people portray him as

he’s laid back, nonchalant but can get excited (like w the whole “miles my guy” scene where he’s so hype)

thinks/knows he’s hot shit but it doesn’t make him arrogant. man just knows what he’s capable of and gets to be laid back thanks to it

#across the spiderverse #headcanon #imagine #male reader #oneshot #spider man: across the spider verse #ask #fluff #hobie brown #request #hobie brown x reader #transmasc #hobie brown x transmasc!reader #transgender reader #transgender #ftm #vigilante reader #hobie brown x vigilante reader #hobie brown x male reader

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yawntutsyip · 1 year

Note

Hello author, maybe you can do an Aonung x sully! Reader where the two love each other but he should marry another woman/girl and he rejects the reader because of it. But the girl he is supposed to marry is in love with Aonung and does everything to separate him from the reader!!! Maybe the reader sees how they kiss and that breaks her heart. Drama but with a happy ending

It would be cool if you could write it, but of course only if you want to!☺️

warnings: sorta angst, happy ending

an: I’m so sorry this took so long 😭 I hope you like it, I tried to follow the plot the best I can but kinda changed up a few things, I hope you still enjoy it though!!

requests : open

A Big Misunderstanding

From the very first moment you and your family had landed in the village of Awa’atlu, when your eyes landed on a certain Metkayina boy, you had fallen head over heels. For a while it confused you, it really did. You always find yourself asking ‘Why do I like him?’ He was a complete jerk to you and your family.

But then you guys would have these moments that made it seem like it was just you and him there, going unnoticed by everyone else. Ao’nung was the person you got partnered up with to teach you how to ride an ilu.

When you first found out Ao’nung was going to be the one to teach you, You thought you were an absolute goner. You were already preparing yourself to eat water when you got on the ilu, but Ao’nung definitely surprised you.

His whole bad boy act went away as he taught you, He made sure you understood everything that he said, he made sure you had the correct posture, unlike your brother who got thrown off right away. He was gentle, making sure to not put his hands anywhere that would make you uncomfortable, asking if you were doing alright, and when he let go and told you to take off, although it sort of took a couple tries, you definitely got it down faster than any of your other siblings, except Kiri your older sister obviously.

When the first time you managed to not get knocked off you swam back to Ao’nung, you were so happy and proud of what you had just done that you jumped on him giving him a big hug while shouting “I did it! I did it!” although it caught him off guard for a second, he found himself blushing hugging you back. “You did, I’m proud of you”.

You pulled back with your face flushed with a purple hue of embarrassment as you realized what you were doing with a quick apology. Ever since then, you guys have had these types of moments. You found yourself hanging out with Ao’nung more and more even when he's not teaching you a lesson.

You would sneak out late at night, making sure everyone was sleeping and that you were quiet enough not to wake them up. Ao’nung would wait for you at the end of the pathway/docks on his ilu and help you get on behind him, he would show you underwater caves he found while exploring, or sometimes you guys would race ilus, sometimes you won but it was rare but you still managed to keep up by his side.

One of the more common things you guys would do was stargaze together, just like you guys were doing right now. You and Ao’nung had both snuck out and had taken a break from racing against each other so there you both lay on your backs against the rock, side by side in a calming silence staring up at the stars.

“The stars are so pretty, especially tonight. Right Ao’nung?” You ask the boy laying next to you. “Yes, they are. The most beautiful…”

Turning your head you meet his aqua eyes staring back into yours with a gentle smile on his lips, you smile back as you scoot closer leaning your head on his chest. Over these couple of days, your feelings for Ao’nung have bloomed profusely, the more you hang out with each other you keep finding little things about him that make your crush grow more.

Maybe you should tell him, you thought you were sure he reciprocated the feelings so what could go wrong? “Hey Ao’nung, can I tell you a secret? '' You ask him, sitting up while looking at your hands, fidgeting nervously. He follows after you with a look of confusion and worry mixed on his face.

“Of course, You can tell me anything. What’s up?” It takes you a moment to muster up all the courage you have to let the simple 3 words out of your mouth, you could feel Ao’nung eyeing your face as you take deep breaths in.

“I like you,” you said while looking up from your hands in your lap to his face, waiting to see a smile and for him to tell you the same words back…Except he wasn't smiling when you looked up. In fact, he was actually frowning.

Were you mistaken? Had all the signs he was giving you just a big misunderstanding? Did you just make a big fool of yourself? A bad taste in your mouth erupted as you came to regret ever saying the words, had you just ruined your relationship with the one person you cherished the most?

Ao’nung rubs the back of his neck as he pulls away from you scooting back. “(Y/N)...I appreciate that, but we can’t. I'm Metkayina and you are Omaticaya. It would never work out...I’m sorry but I don’t feel the same…It’s getting late we should probably get going back to our Marui’s” he tells you as he fully stands up calling for his ilu. “I’ll see you later (Y/N)”. And with that, he left.

Shock ran through your whole body, You couldn't believe what just happened. Tears welled up in your eyes as you started to stand up calling for an ilu. How stupid were you to think that Ao’nung would like a Na’vi like you. Tears ran down your face to your chin and into the water, you don’t bother to wipe them either.

His words stayed echoing in your head like a broken record that got stuck on a verse and repeated the lyric over and over again. ‘It would never work’ ‘I don’t feel the same'

Your chest aches in sadness the whole ride back, quiet whimpers leaving your lips as you sniffle clearing your nose. You could taste the salt from the tears as you licked your lips. Why did I do that? Had you been misguided by all the moments you guys shared with each other alone? Thinking back to every memory of the times, he had made you a necklace with shells that were your favorite color, was that just a friendly gesture? The times when you guys would get lost in each other's eyes and fail to notice one another slowly leaning in, or maybe he did that by accident? You weren't sure but all you knew was that he doesn't like you back.

But little did you know how wrong you were about the boy. When he heard you say those words it was like a breath of fresh air, a wave of relief after finding out you liked him back but he had to push those feelings down as he rejected you and every word sent a pang of pain to his chest. He didn’t mean a word to you at all, In fact, he was in love with you. Out of all the other girls in his village, he could only picture you when he thought about someone who he could see himself growing old with.

When Ao’nung confessed to his parents about wanting to court you they didn't bother letting him finish as they immediately shot it down, telling Ao’nung no.

“ Mother, Father! Why? You guys have been bugging me to find someone to mate with, and when I do you refuse? Don’t you want your son to be happy? I love (Y/N). I wish to be mated before Eywa with her. I want her to be my future Tsahik. Don’t you understand?” He pleaded and pleaded with his parents begging them but they didn’t change his answer.

“No. That's our final word. We knew this would happen, so we have been searching through all the village girls that would be a perfectly suited mate for you. Kezä seems like a kind girl yeah? You guys will go on a date in a couple days to get familiar with each other.”

Kezä. She was one of Tsirey’s friends. He will not lie she was beautiful but she could never be compared to your beauty and alluring charm. Ao’nung saw through Kezä’s little fake persona she made everyone seem to see. She was fake, and an absolutely disgusting person. Hearing her name had already left a distaste in his mouth.

Ao’nung was exhausted at this point, emotionally and physically, his emotions were flying around everywhere. For once he thought his parents would support their son in finally finding someone he truly loved but all it seems is that they only care about their reputation and not about him.

When Ao’nung had finally reached his Marui he walked right in and went to his cot to lie down, but he wasn’t tired. He couldn't sleep with the fact that he had said all those things to you, He swore he could see the light from your face drain with every word stabbing one after another.

When he left he wanted to turn back around and run up to you, grab you in his tight embrace, and whisper in your ear that he was sorry, that what he said was all lies and it wasn't true. But it was already too late, the damage had been done.

Ao’nung didn’t want to give you false hope, he would rather choose your happiness over his own. If he had to tell you those things to make you stop liking him then he’ll say it, As much as it hurt him he would not let you live to be alone, he knew you would do that for him too.

His date with Kezä was to be tomorrow. Yes, Ao’nung was gonna go through with it but he was going to reject her after they finally got away from his mother, he was gonna set it straight that he didn’t love her and he only had eyes for you.

Unlike Ao’nung, Kezä was boasting with excitement, all that lying and fake acting paid off as she caught the Tsahik's attention and got just what she wanted. She had a crush on Ao’nung ever since they were younger, that's why she became friends with Tsireya, to get closer to him she didn't care about the girl a single bit nor did she feel bad, as long as Kezä got what she wanted it doesn't matter, she was willing to do anything to get Ao’nung.

Kezä was absolutely delusional, she created fake scenarios in her head so much that she lost touch with what was real and fake. In every interaction she had with Ao’nung, she always seemed to think too much about it when Ao’nung picked up the basket she dropped ‘accidentally’ and he picked it up for her, Ao’nung was just doing it because he was a well-mannered boy and it was his duty as the future Olo’eyktan to help his people, but to Kezä she thought Ao’nung was sending it subtle hints that he liked her.

Ao’nung dreaded every second that passed by ever since he opened his eyes this morning, his eyes were red and puffy from crying. Oh how much he regretted everything, why couldn't things go his way like he wanted them, It was supposed to be you that he was going on a date with not some girl he wanted nothing to do with.

Sadly Ao’nung was forced to get up and go out with her spending the whole day together. He will admit, those were the most depressing moments in his life as he dreaded every second of it. Right now they were currently walking on the shore side by side, although Ao’nung made sure there was a decent gap between him as Kezä kept trying to move closer.

Throughout the dreadful day, the only thing he could think about was you as they did everything. When they had gone ilu racing (it was more of him trying to get Kezä lost so he could leave though) she could hardly catch up with him, she was such a lousy rider he wouldn't be surprised if someone told him the girl wasn't a true Metkayina, her posture was all wrong, when she called the ilus it was too screechy. He swore he saw the ilus swimming away when she called after them.If it was you with him racing ilus you would have either been by his side the whole time or maybe even won.

Or when Ao’nung suggested they go hunting, as he watched her throw a spear it was absolutely embarrassing, it was like watching a baby except the baby would probably be better at throwing a spear, now you may not be good at hunting either but you sure knew what direction to throw it in, Kezä managed to throw it backward instead and it nearly grazed his arm as he stood there.

Then there was a moment when he and Kezä were walking past a group of children playing and one of them tripped and fell, causing the little boy to scrape up his knee, He was expecting Kezä to rush up to the little kid but he watched as she just laughed and pointed at the crying boy, telling him to stop being a baby. (he was literally a baby).

This was one of the reasons why he fell in love with you. You had the purest soul, ready to drop anything if someone was in need and that was an important trait that a Tsahik would need, to be prepared to take care of her people no matter what. If you had seen that little boy you would have rushed up to him, coddling him in your arms as you told him it was gonna be okay, you probably had some ointment and bandages in your bag too, as you were used to carrying stuff like that around due to always looking and taking care of Tuk. That's where your motherly instincts came from, sometimes he caught himself thinking about having children with you and hood of a mother you would be.

As it got later in the day Ao’nung and Kezä now stayed standing by a rock as Ao’nung told her that he needed to tell her something in private. Kezä thought nothing of it, she was thinking he was about to confess the undying love that he has for her and then he would whisk her away to the spirit tree and become mated before Eywa, oh how that poor girl was wrong…

“I want to get this straight and over with Kezä. I don’t like you at all, and Honestly, your presence makes me want to throw up in my mouth. I will never see you. I have my eyes on someone else and I love them. I hope you can understand. I apologize for wasting your time today, I was forced to hang out with you, I never wanted to be here in the first place.”

As every word entered Kezä ears it added to the fuming anger, if this was a cartoon she would have steam coming out from her ears and her whole body would be red. She could not believe he said those things to her.

“You're joking, right? Jokes are supposed to be funny and this isn't funny, I know you like me Ao’nung you don't have to hide from me because I like you too! You didn’t think I saw those hints you were giving me? Come one ma Ao’nung” She said as she walked close to Ao’nung trailing a finger over her chest as he was backing up.

‘What is wrong with the girl?!’ Ao’nung thought “I’m not joking Kezä, I don’t know what you are talking about ‘hints’ but I have given you none. I don’t like you.” He yells smacking her hand away as he backs up more. He was starting to get quite scared and creeped out by the girl.

Kezä scoffed and turned her back to Ao’nung laughing. She shook her head, she wasn’t blind. She saw you and Ao’nung sneak out together before but she could never guess her Ao’nung would grow feelings for a such foreign creature, you and your family never belonged her in the first place. In the corner of her eye, she saw you walking towards them. ‘Oh this is perfect.’ she thought as she turned back around to the boy still behind her.

“Hmm, I guess you're right Ao’nung I was in the wrong. Can I just tell you one last thing before I go though?” She said taking a whole 180 and a pout on her lips. Ao’nung could only roll his eyes as he was over the girl and was ready to get away from her. “Sure whatever, What is it?-”

Soon he was cut off as he gets shoved with his back against the rock as Kezä forces her lips on his as she grabs his hands moving them around her. He stood in shock not knowing what to do as he struggled against her.

“Ao’nung! Are you over here- Oh….Uhm I’m so sorry for interrupting you guys…” Ao’nungs eyes widen as he hears the sound of your voice. Finally winning, he manages to push the girl off of him with a strong shove and she falls into the sand landing on her bottom.

“(Y/N)! Wait come back it's not what you think it is! Please! Let me explain!” He screamed out to you as he was running after you to catch up.

What had happened was you went looking for Ao’nung, You wanted to tell him to just forget about what you said so you guys would go back to being normal friends again, but of course, when you found him he was locking lips with another girl.

The familiar pain began to grow in your chest as you witnessed the scene happening before your eyes but you could bear it no longer as you muttered a quick apology for interrupting and running away.

Tears rushed through your eyes as if it were pouring down rain, one after another, they just kept falling and falling. This time you couldn't hold back your cries. You let them out one by one as they began to come out louder and louder, Your vision goes blurry, you could hardly make out anything in front of you, you were just hoping you won’t run into anything or anyone.

You call for your ilu and hop on as you quickly swim away. You could hear the sounds of Ao’nung calling your name but you ignored them. You needed to cool down, You could hardly deal with the emotional pain you were going through right now, Breaths were coming in and out shaky.

Finally, you reach one of the underwater caves Ao’nung had brought you and you crawl into the deepest corner and begin to let everything out. Screams bounced amongst the walls as you wailed your sorrows out.

‘He really didn’t like me, this whole time he was after another girl’

‘How could I be so stupid not to see that.’

Hiccups interrupted your cries in between, you punched the ground as you watched a droplet of tears pool by your fist, You were angry, sad, and embarrassed.

As you hear the movement of water , meaning someone was entering the cave, you slap your hand over your mouth and do your best to muffle the whimpers. “(Y/N)? (Y/N)! Oh my Eywa, Please let me explain what happened.” Ao’nung hopped off the ilu and walked into the cave, getting closer to you.

Although the cave was dark, the bioluminescent plants gave off enough light to reflect off your face and show him your red puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. He had felt as if his heart shattered. Seeing you like that caused him physical pain. He moved closer trying to pull you into a hug but you would only scoot away yelling at him to leave over and over again.

“Okay! I will leave just hear me out and let me explain what happened!” His voice began to shake as he dropped to his knees.

“What is there to say? You rejected me and I saw you kissing a girl. You don’t like me! Just leave me alone. I don’t want to see you right now.” You continue to yell at him, some of your words muffled or slurred as you buried your face in your hands.

“I love you (Y/N)!”

As the words left his mouth you froze. You force yourself to calm down and take deep breaths before pulling away from your hands and looking at the boy on his knees in front of you, who had tears sliding down his cheeks as well. “What did you say?” You ask not trusting what you heard thinking that all this crying was making you start to hear things.

“It's true! Please believe me! I know what I said earlier but none of that is true! I see you (Y/N). I always had since the moment I met you- I was dumb to reject you because of my parents, I don't care what they say, let them be mad, yell at me, punish me, as long as I will have you by my side I am happy. Please understand, I love you. And what you saw earlier was not what it seemed, She pushed herself on me, and forced me to kiss her but I swear I didn’t, I pushed her off right away! I don’t like her at all she's just a girl my parents forced me to hang out with for the day. The whole time I had to spend with her, you were the only thing on my mind! Please believe me (Y/N)!” Ao’nung cried out, pleading for you to forgive him as he could not take another second of you being sad and him being the cause of it.

He gets up and walks closer to you before crouching down in front of you. You listened to every word closely while sniffling and whipping tears away. Staring up at him, finally being able to see him clearly with no tears in the way you get up and stand in front of him.

“You swear?” You say barely above a whisper, voice hoarse from screaming. You both look into each other's eyes, Ao’nung stands up now towering over you, and cups your face with both hands caressing your cheeks.

“I swear. I see you (Y/N). You are the only person I love. I want you to be by my side for the rest of my life” He whispers back leaning in closer, forehead resting against yours, some tears leaving his eyes as he shut them tightly.

Reaching up you cup his face back and use your thumbs to wipe away the tears. “I love you too Ao’nung,” you say, taking in a deep breath with one last sniffle and closing the gap between the both of you, lips against the other and they move in sync.

You thanked Eywa that it was all a big misunderstanding, and that your true love actually loved you back.

#atwow #avatar the way of water #atwow x reader #atwow imagine #avatar x reader #aonung x reader #ao’nung #ao’nung x reader #☆ — ao’nung ˖˚⊹

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undercoverpena · 10 months

Text

rainy world, blanket days

frankie morales x f!reader

summary: “Yourewet.” It escapes, muffled between your mouths, as he smiles against your lips. “It’s raining, amor.”

wordcount: 1.8k an: written for anon, with a huge thanks and dedication to @thelightsandtheroses who let me ramble a lot to her, without complaint. and sorta told me i could do this, even when i didn't think i could. warnings: none. just sweet!frankie, soft vibes, nice ending (real cute, tbf)

When it rains, it pours.

A sentiment he knows all too well with how his day has been going.

You and your grand ideas, where simple DIY soon gets out of hand: first, a photo frame, then the guest sink, and now he’s retrieving shelving because you need more space for your books.

Frankie doesn’t mind. Not really.

He likes being busy—likes making you smile and how it always hits your eyes and coats him in a warmth that no winter can ever take from him.

When he'd left, there had been sunshine. By the time he pulls into the car park, the clouds have grown grey and heavy, fingers tugging to pull his collar around his neck to fend off the wind. Hat tugged down, hiding, as he saunters around aisle after aisle, an image in mind of what he wants—what he needs.

He clambers it all together. Some under his arm, some lodged against his chest, hugged there by his arm. Somewhat wishing he hadn’t been so quick to turn down a bag. All to step out of the automatic doors and be met with a downpour.

The kind that soaks everything it touches and makes the air smell of petrichor, all fresh earth and mire. A scent which could so easily take him back to jungles and covert missions if not for the way he gripped the wood until splinters threatened to dig into his hands.

He’s been better recently—more rooted. Finding himself less troubled and minus the haunting of ghosts.

But, sometimes, they hang in the background. The memories that become nightmares, waiting for a weaker moment to suffocate him.

You fend them off—doing so without trying.

You and the smile he thinks of as he throws everything in the truck, slamming the driver door behind him as droplets fall down his neck, sliding from the ends of his curls to run down and settle on his collarbone.

Palm across his forehead, wiping the beads from his brow as he removes his hat—the one soaked to the bone. He knows it’ll take hours to dry, trying to hang it off the passenger headrest as he wrestles with how naked he feels without it.

You like it off.

Often whispering it to him, having done so the other night when you were straddling his lap, pushing it back, taking it in your fingers before placing it backwards on your head.

“Do I suit it, Frankie? Your hat.”

He wished he’d taken a photo, made it his background.

You in his oversized shirt, a pair of boxers turned shorts, and his hat on your pretty little head. The thought alone sparks warmth through his chest, suddenly turning the key more eager, more determined.

Desperate.

That’s what he was: desperate. To see you, get home to you.

The work-in-progress which changes month by month before their eyes as vision and his handiwork being it to life.

He likes working on it, your two's home. But sometimes, in weather like this, he wishes for blankets and candles, no lights—just the flicker of a movie he’ll pretend to watch for the first act before he silently studies you.

Or music, soft, lulling music that floats around the walls. The occasional raps of the branches from the tree on the window, the one you refuse to have Frankie cut down.

He craves one today, never really being one for lazy days, but now it’s those days he loves the most with you. The ones which are easy, a gift. They come along infrequently, but when they do, he tries to clutch on to them too tightly—in the same way, he likes to have you close.

Whether it’s bare legs thrown over his thighs, fluffy socks twitching under the blanket, or you slotted against his side, hand playing with his fingers as his lips twitch into a smile periodically.

It’s those memories, that wish, that carries him home. The car windows steam up under the clamminess of his skin, the radio humming songs he barely listens to when he finally swings his truck on the drive. Forgetting the items beside him, including his hat, as he steps out, not even doubling back when he presses the key to lock it—just desperate to get inside, and when he does…

It’s all he’s been wishing for and more.

The scent of a burning wick hits him first, followed by hot cocoa. Shutting the front door, locking it—and keeping the world out—he slides his feet from his boots, leaving them in a state on the mat. Then he begins his hunt for you, fingers brushing down doorways, leaning into the kitchen, and then the living room.

Frankie frowns as his fingers scratch at his damp hair. Something akin to worry begins to needle at his chest, making his heart stammer—rattling in his chest.

His next stop, the only one truly left, catches his eye as droplets fall from his jacket, painting the wooden floor in dots from the outside. The door, all half-open and ajar, as it had been this morning when he’d followed you out of it, sleep clinging to his lashes as you excitedly talked about decor and needing his help.

Now, he worries he didn’t lock the door. That something had happened. Not even remembering the last time he checked his phone or—

You collide into him suddenly, all quickly.

In a way that forces all of the pieces of him to slot back together, making the worry dissipate. Your grin growing at the sight of him, hitting your eyes as you begin to beam as though he’s your sun and not just a man you met one day and never got rid of.

He thinks of speaking, whispering a hi and then pulling you close, but he gets tangled up—thoughts balling and knotting in his head at the sight of you.

You look so comfortable and relaxed, your face clean and free of anything—one of his tees adorning your frame, hiding your curves from him.

There’s something about seeing you undone that he'll never grow used to. How at ease around him you are, have been since early days. It’s almost his favourite sight, taking it over summer dresses and painted lips—almost.

Frankie’s favourite has more to do with when your lips are parted, thighs on either side of him—pupils blown, skin warm, sweat pebbling on your hairline and collarbones. You make the prettiest noises then, too—an array of Francisco’s and Frankie’s pecking the air.

Your eyes are narrowing, confusion mounting at his stare and empty hands. He knows you—about as well as you know him.

Frankie knows that you’re beginning to worry with how your brow slides up your forehead, that concern-laced words will fall from your tongue as your mouth starts to part. But he moves, pounces, rids the air of comments that aren’t please and more.

Slanting his lips over yours, he steals your thoughts. Intentionally, his tongue licks into your mouth to wipe up the remainder of any words that had been forming. It’s only as he nips at your bottom lip, tasting the whimper you let him have, is he aware of your arms coming around his neck, feels fingers scrape against his hair, his scalp—

“Yourewet.”

It escapes, muffled between your mouths, as he smiles against your lips. “It’s raining, amor.”

Frankie slides his fingers across your cheek, keeping you close, letting him take his time to kiss you, enjoy you. His other hand is busy sliding up your frame—fingers brushing the overwashed, seen-better-days t-shirt of his that you love—all to find purpose on your hip. Wishing to grip it, his thumb digging ever so lightly—not enough to bruise, although he could (enjoys doing so, too), but enough to inform you what he wants.

You. Always you.

Rainy days and sunny ones. The difficult ones and the easy ones.

“Frankie…”

He kisses the side of your mouth, humming—indicative that he’s heard you.

“I’ve got the blankets out. Queued a movie and—“

“Lit the candles,” he finishes, one last kiss to your jaw before he retracts, letting you go to look you up and down as he folds his arms, leaning against the doorframe.

The silence allows the sound of rain hammering against the window panes to find his ears—doing so to a beat similar to how his heart thumps at the sight of you. The way it has done since he woke up one morning and couldn’t get the thought from his mind:

I want to marry you.

He’s been thinking about it for weeks, months.

Moments adding to other ones, collecting them like stamps. Letting them layer and layer—

You drag him from his thoughts, shifting on the balls of your feet, an unreadable expression flushing out the one he’d put there a moment ago. “Is that… okay?”

He nods, slow at first before a grin accompanies it. You pull it from him easily, and do so all the time—a thing the others have noticed.

“All I was thinking about at the hardware store.”

“You were thinking about a blanket day?”

His lip twitches. “Thinking about you under a blanket, yeah.”

You try to hold it back, but you smirk. Eyes latched on him as he shrugs his jacket off, your hand gesturing to take it from him, pulling it close to you.

“I’ll let you pick the movie,” you say, moving past him, holding his eye line as your hand brushes his chest, taking his jacket with you. “And I’ll hang this up to dry.”

He smirks knowingly.

Because you only let him choose when you have no intention of watching it.

“I’ma just change,” he calls out, heading into the bedroom—passing the mirror, the wardrobe. Shifting around the end of the bed as he hovers near the bedside table.

Letting his fingers find the handle, he pulls on the top drawer, glancing at the door. Nervousness prickles, mixes with the drizzle sliding down his spine, as he opens it, peering in.

At first, he sees nothing, and then just the corner of it.

Just how he left it, smothered in clean, holey socks and receipts—the blue box which stares up at him. All 4.7 x 3.9 of it.

The one which had been heavy in his pocket the day he picked it up to bring it home. How it began burning a hole in his jacket until he hid it, stuffing it in the back of the nook for the right day.

Today though, he lets his fingers pull it out from the corner it’s been trapped in. Feeling how light it actually is, for the weight it has on his shoulders.

“Frankie, y'coming?”

He smiles, both at the box in his fingers and your impatience. Nudging the drawer shut with his knuckle, a scar catching his sight—one you always stroke, never asking, yet reading the story behind it with each touch.

He calls back that he’ll be a minute, placing the box on the bed, opening other drawers and slamming them shut once he'd found sweats and a fresh tee. Dressing, he feels the warmth slide up his neck, reaching his ears as his pulse thunders.

Having decided today will be the day the ring finds a new home—hopefully, one on your finger.

an: hope this was fluffy enough, anon.

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales #francisco morales #triple frontier x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x you #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedrostories #frankie morales triple frontier #francisco morales fanfiction #francisco catfish morales

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