#every fuckin morning the time comes where i need to leave to get to work on time and im still like nah i got time ??? like

[honexjams]

anybody got tips for understanding how time works

#talkin.555 #time agnosia #every fuckin morning the time comes where i need to leave to get to work on time and im still like nah i got time ??? like #im sposed to be there at 8:45 but like at latest 9 #ive lost 3 jobs to this shit but fortunately at this company im too valuable to fire #still would like to. be normal about it #EDIT i started labelling my alarms with how much time i have left to get up #and i bit the bullet of getting up at 8:00 even tho i tech dont have to be up until 8:15 just because #its easier for my to see 8:00 as a Serious Time than 8:15 kdbdjd #at least i think thats why it works #sometimes i still stay up late and come in a few mins late but id say #at least 2/3 of the time i come in on time to work

[celestialwhoree]

WHEN I SAY NEED I MEAN NEED!!

The 141 + Konig with their s/o wearing a pheromone perfume just to tease them or simply just for fun to see their reaction while they are turning FERAL to get another wiff of that addictive smell.

(u could just skip this but if you have free time and willing to is an absolute)

Thank yew besty, i can sleep in peace now. 😌

Anon baby?! You cute toot little genius megamind?! Also I can't believe this is my first time writing for König? Anywho💕

Price buys all of his s/o's perfumes, knows the scents they like and their favourite notes and therefore buys them a perfume for every occasion or at any airport duty free he manages to browse. Because of this, he has a tendency to bury his nose in their neck, or kiss the insides of their wrists, the smell of them alone allowing him to think back to the day they got married or the night he proposed. When he stuffs his nose between the crook of their neck and their hair, and doesn't recognise the scent they're wearing, he's immediately confused, leaving his face smooshed against them whilst he tries to work out what it is they're wearing that smells so delicious. They're just trying to reply to some emails whilst he's literally got his face buried in the back of their neck, sniffing loudly as he tries to get their attention. "You got new perfume?" He grumbles lustfully, voice halfway between a low grunt and a breathless rumble. "Mhm. You like it?" "Smells fuckin' delicious - smells like sex." "Sex?" You giggle incredulously. "Sex. Speaking of which, come to bed."

Gaz loves when the smell of his s/o lingers around their home and reminds him of them. He loves when his head hits the pillow of the bed and their sweet shampoo lingers in their shared space, or when he puts on one of the hoodies they've borrowed and it still smells of them. When he comes home from an errand to them sat watching their favourite show on the TV, he practically lays on top of them like some kind of human weighted blanket, stuffing his face up their shirt with a deep sigh. "Smell good." He grumbles into the warm skin of their sternum. "Yeah?" Your hum, scratching your nails soothingly into his scalp, to which he only gives a contented hum of approval. He spends the afternoon just sort of nosing at their skin, and ends up falling asleep in their shirt.

Johnny is just generally feral. This man uses all of their fancy creams and lotions, just generally doesn't share the boundaries that some couples would have. He'd spot the perfume on their bathroom counter straight away, probably brush it off too. He doesn't really pay it much mind how good they smell until they're both pottering around the kitchen together making dinner. He'll just sort of inch closer until he's grabbing their wrist where they've spritzed a tiny bit of the perfume that morning and proceeded to forget about it. He's so weird about showing his affection too, probably nipping at them and licking them throughout the day, confused as to why they're more alluring and attractive than normal. His mind races with thoughts of maybe they're ovulating or he's got some kind of weird hormonal guy thing going on. Whatever it is, he's all over them all evening, and practically pawing their clothes off when they get to bed.

Simon gets grumpy when he can't control himself around them. He's a man who prides himself on his ability to remain stoic and impassive, not to mention the fact that he hates feeling like some out of control, lovesick teenage boy. He gets all huffy and puffy, and his s/o is like genuinely concerned for him, so much so that he walks in on them in the bathroom scrubbing at their neck and wrists with a loofah. "The fuck are you doing?" He grunts with an inquisitive, amused raise of his eyebrow. "I - um - spilled something?" "Like that 'pheromone' stuff I got the purchase notification on my bank app for?" "Whaaaaaat? No! Maybe." He just sort of chuffs at their oversight, and the fact that he'd literally seen them browsing these faddy pheromone perfumes on the sofa right beside him.

König literally is just an animal. This man has very limited social decorum as is, at home? Yeah, no, gone. His boundaries are non existent, and he has a tendency to paw at his s/o, slip his hands down their pants or up their shirts daily. Wearing pheromone perfume doesn't help their cause. He spends the day following them around the house like a needy puppy, whining when they swat him away so that they can work or cook or go to the bathroom. He acts all grumbly and wounded and pathetic, and they promptly hide the pheromone perfume, deeming it more of a hindrance than a help, although it is kind of entertaining to see their nearly seven foot, sniper boyfriend so needy over something that they thought was a total scam. It doesn't stop him from practically dragging them to bed by the scruff of their neck, huffing about how he's been wanting them all day.

#cod mwii #cod mw2 #tf 141 #cod #call of duty #John price #captain price #John Price x y/n #John price x reader #Kyle garrick #Kyle gaz garrick #gaz garrick x reader #gaz garrick x y/n #johnny soap mactavish #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x y/n #Simon ghost riley #Simon Riley #ghost Riley #Simon Riley x y/n #Simon Riley x reader #Konig #Kong x reader #konig x y/n #celestialwhoree #Angies asks!

[yandere-kokeshi]

heyyyy, i saw your werewolf TF 141 posts, and i have some ideas brewing >:) just imagine trying to go to the bathroom in peace or worse trying to leave for work or something else, and if you do escape, if you come home smelling like another person (especially another man 👀) i feel like there would be a lot of chaotic moments happening that household :p

Warnings: yandere behavior, possessiveness, and smut shit, minors DNI!

No, because you’re right. They’re the definition of, ‘If you leave me, we will kill you (softly) >:(!’

They’re always on you the minute you get home, regardless of where or who you went with. The wildest men, Soap and Gaz, are immediately surrounding you at the door, gently nipping your hand to guide you to their nest; before growling out as the disgusting smell of another person waves in like flies.

All of them hate outsiders. The smell of humans — the scent of someone else on you? Yeah, that’s one way to make them lose their goddamn mind. They growl at your skin, furiously licking it away and dragging you back to the den, so they can replace it with theirs. 

Funnily enough, Kyle jokingly brought up a small thought a few weeks ago: what if they pretend to be a service dog? You laughed then, taking it as a joke. However, It’s a thought they hadn’t stopped thinking about since. And it’d be perfect, really. 

They’ll act nice, they’d promise. Taking turns every day. Nudging your legs, pretending to be alerting you, but in reality, annoyed that customers are continually chatting you up at the grocery store; but they won’t blame them. You are pretty. 

Whenever they want attention in public, they’d force you on the ground — laying on top of you, pretending to be doing DPT. And of course, narrowing their eyes at anyone who wants to touch them. 

Though, ignore the top half, once coming home from work, they’re always on you the minute you step through the front door, regardless of where or who you went with. Price is immediately surrounding you at the door, gently nipping your hand to guide you to the nest; before growling out as the disgusting smell of another person waves in like flies.

Next you know, you’ve fallen to the floor, vigorously dragged by your ankle, whom by Johnny — only growls when you resist. Yelling at them only excites them more to show you who you belong too. 

Once you finally get out of the cuddle ball, which you were immediately forced into once you got home from work, one of them will follow you and whine at the door. High chance it’s Johnny, who will scratch at the door, barking at you to come out (and maybe chewing at the fuckin’ door, it ain’t the first time you’ve had to replace the damn thing!). He starts to jump around you when you come out, his tail wagging excitedly. 

In the mornings, they loathe seeing you get ready for work. The changing to appropriate clothes makes them growl, and you leaving the bedroom to grab your keys makes them whine. Johnny likes to purposely play games, especially grabbing your keys and running around the house, which leads to you chasing him and being late.

Most of the time, you’re chewed out by your boss — you being late so many times is a heavy toll on your shoulders. And when you come home, you’re obviously irritated. They can tell and smell it from you. 

They try to make you feel better. They really do! But why can’t you see you only need them? All of them surround you, making you irritable, laugh when they lick you. But only whine, when you tell them to move or get out of the way; ears flat down when you slam the bedroom door to be left alone. 

Either way, if you dare to get ready for work, after purposely ignoring them the night before, they can easily overpower you. Biting at the back of your knees, causing you to quite literally fall face-first and then quickly sitting on top of your back; making you learn that you require them and need to stay home. They need to protect you, so why can’t you understand that?

Punishments are rare. But if you keep pushing their limits, especially when you come back from a friend’s night quite late, they get on all fours. Turning in their full forms and fuck you senseless until you promise you won’t leave without their permission.  

But, once in a while, they’ll let you go without any trouble. They give you a bunch of kisses, growling in promises that you’ll be back before 8pm. And if you decide to push it, even by 10 minutes? They’re angry, and pent-up with annoyance yet again. 

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking, it helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

#werewolf #tf-141 #mw2 werewolves #yandere male #kokeshi!! #male yandere #yandere blog #yandere #yandere ideas #yandere werewolf #yandere monster #yandere monsters #yandere poly #yandere mw2 #yandere polyamorous #hybrid au #x reader #dark content #werewolf au #task force 141 #tf 141 #141 x reader #mw2 141 #yandere thoughts #yandere thoughts of the day #mw2 hybrid au #ask #kokeshi anons #filenameunknown ask #yandere cod

[ggrapeejuicee]

Right Person. Wrong Time

harry styles angst

summary: Harry’s fame puts you in danger, and he can’t let himself be the reason you get hurt

word count: 1.1k

— — —

Harry was half way through a residency as Madison Square Garden. The whole world loved him. He’d been crowned the new king of pop.

You’d left the show half way through to grab some food, and ended up wandering to take in the pretty lights of the city.

He’d barely spoken to you this morning, leaving the hotel room barely uttering a goodbye. He didn’t tell you his plans for after the show or what time he’d be back at. The past few days he’d been distant. It was unlike him considering how close you’d been for the past few months.

Apart from rehearsals and performing you’d been practically inseparable since you started dating, but now it sort of felt like he was slipping away.

He got back to the hotel room after midnight, you had reruns of an old sitcom from your childhood playing on the TV while you had been waiting for him.

“You’re late tonight.” You smile at him as he comes through the door.

“Yeah.” He says gruffly.

“You okay?” You ask, “You’re usually in a more talkative mood.”

“Been a long day.” He shrugged.

“Yeah I get it. I just feel like we haven’t spent much time together recently.”

“Yeah, because I’m working.” He snapped, “I’ve had a show like every day.”

“No, I know that-”

“Well clearly not.”

“I was just trying to be nice, no need to go all moody on me.” You roll your eyes.

“You just don’t understand what it’s like for me.”

“I don’t understand?” You scoffed, “Harry I’ve given up everything for you. I cancelled the lease on my apartment, I quit my job, I left my fiancée. Just so I could come with you on this damn tour.”

“I didn’t fucking ask you to do any of that.” He said angrily, “You done all of that on your own, don’t fucking blame that on me.”

“Stop yelling at me.”

“Then stop being a fuckin’ brat.”

You shook your head, not believing what was happening right now.

“I told you that this wasn’t going to work out, right from the beginning. I told you we should’ve just left it in Miami, but you wanted to keep it going.”

“We both wanted to keep it going, you were just too much of a coward to commit yourself to it. You can’t commit, Harry, to anything.”

He slammed his fist against the wall, knuckles turning red with the force he hit the plasterboard. His face was red with anger. With a combination of his drunken state and the heat of this argument, this was one of the worst tempers you’d ever seen from him.

“I commit. I commit every single day. To this job, this life.”

“But you can’t commit to me?” You shout, tears welling up in your eyes, “I’m just asking for a little respect here.”

“This just isn’t working out.” He said.

You’d tried to stay strong throughout this, but as soon as those words left his lips you couldn’t help but to start crying. Tears flowed down your cheeks and sobs escaped your mouth.

Harry just stood and watched.

He stood emotionless, watching you break down in front of him, every emotion you were feeling was caused by him and he looked as if he didn’t care.

“I think you should go back to Miami. Coming on the rest of the tour isn’t a good idea.”

You felt sick. You felt like you were going to vomit everywhere. A mixture of different thoughts flooded your brain.

Where would you go? You had no apartment.

How would you get a flight? You had no money.

Harry had made a promise to you that he’d take care of you while he was on the road, and now he’s here breaking that promise in a million different ways.

“You’re an asshole.”

“You should’ve listened to me before. This wouldn’t be happening right now.”

“So what went wrong, huh? You bored of me? You found someone else? Or has the alcohol just made you honest for the first time since I’ve known you.”

“God, I’ve not found someone else. There is no one else can’t you fucking see that?”

“Then why are you doing this? Why are you hurting me for no reason.” It was hard to breathe through the crying. It had already been a long day, but coming home to this had made it so much worse, “You’re standing there watching me get myself into such a state and you look like you couldn’t care less.“

“There’s always a reason.” He shouts, “Always a fucking reason.”

“Then you need to tell me. Help me understand why you’re just giving up on this. On us.”

Your heart was beating out your chest. This man, in the few months you had been together, had become your whole life. And now you were loosing him for what seemed like forever.

“If something happened to you I’d never forgive myself.”

“Nothings going to happen, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Those photographers yesterday were just the start. Ever since people found out about us, your whole safety has been jeopardised. I will not let anything happen to you because of me.”

“Harry-”

“No.” He interrupts, “You wanted an explanation so let me talk.”

“As long as you’re with me you’re not safe. People will stalk you and invade on your privacy for as long as I’m in the public eye. This isn’t the life either of us want for you.”

“I don’t give a shit about all of that, I just want you.”

“I can’t let you give up all your privacy just for me. That’s not fair.”

“This should be my decision, Harry.” You argue.

He shakes his head.

“Why couldn’t you just tell me, instead of putting on the whole asshole act.”

“I needed you to listen. I still need you to listen.”

“I am listening.”

“Well you’re not hearing me properly then. We need to be over. We can’t keep this,” He gestures between you both, “up, because it means you’re not safe.”

“Then up the security, get me a bodyguard.”

He shakes his head, and for the first time since this conversation began you could see sadness in his eyes.

“You and I both know that you don’t want a bodyguard following you around for the rest of your life.”

He reaches for your hand, placing his lips against the back of it softly.

“I’ll sort out a flight and somewhere for you to stay, don’t worry about that. This isn’t what I want to happen, it’s what needs to happen. And if somehow, somewhere in the future we’re brought back together then we will be. Just… Not right now.”

Deep down you knew he was right. The insane photographer trying to get in your cab the other night was a step too far, and no doubt something like that could happen again on a bigger more dangerous scale.

But you didn’t want to loose him.

Right person. Wrong time.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles fic #fanfic #harry styles fanfic #angst #harry styles angst #angsty fanfic #fanfiction #one direction

[courtingchaos]

There’s Levels To This

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

A/N: oh my god It’s the beach episode! Dip your toes in kids, the water is fine. This is for my dearest @chestylarouxx who has me yearning on the daily for beach shenanigans with one Edward Munson.

Warnings: Just sex and drinking in the sun.

18+ NSFW No Minors

To say Eddie wasn’t your friend would be wrong. At every level he was dear to you, from a simple ride to work in the mornings all the way to your petty crimes partner now that the two of you were old enough to know better.

“A fall guy.” He’d said.

“Or at least someone with better eyesight.” He’d said, this time pushing your glasses back up your nose.

“Someone that has a getaway car.” He’d said while spinning his key ring around his finger. That callused digit bounces in the corner of your vision, thick and longer than yours. Nails bitten short with grime from the shop still under them.

You’re trying to hand the store over to the night manager and Eddie’s come in early. Beelined directly for you standing behind the elevated register and leaned all cool and carefree on your counter.

“I don’t want to get involved tonight Ed. Trying to leave town tomorrow if you remember.” You mutter at him while you try to finish counting the till.

“Well duh, I’m not gonna get us caught. We need to leave at what, 9?”

“We?” You lift your head and he reaches over and pushes your glasses up again.

“Yeah, you didn’t know?” He gives you mischievous smile. “Your mom invited me. Sorry you had to find out like this.”

“What’d you do to butter her up this time?” You drop the pencil on the till log and shove your hands onto your hips.

“Nothing! I simply told her how Wayne was going on his fishing trip this week too and I was gonna be rotting around the trailer all…by…my lonesome…” He leans in, props his chin on his elbow and gives you big puppy eyes.

You haven’t fallen for those in about four years.

(This is a lie. One of many but this one is a repeat offender in your repertoire of excuses for Eddie Munson.)

“Rotting?” You jerk your hand in front of your hips. “Is that what they’re calling it now?” You grab the till and hand it over to your replacement and she gives you a nod and directs a long suffering sigh at your shadow.

“You think I wait for Wayne to leave town? Barely can wait to get home sometimes.” He grins. “Your bathroom is remarkably soundproof, did you know.”

You smack him in the chest with an old stack of magazines. “You’re a pig.”

“Yeah well what’s that make you?” He follows you to the back, management having long gotten over trying to tell him anything.

“The prize pony whose stall you keep breaking into.” You seethe at him. It’s all in good fun but he still pauses in the doorway and squints at you. He opens his mouth, plush lips forming around a word before he seems to think better of it. Runs his tongue along along his top teeth and leans again while you get your stuff together.

“Do you even have swim trunks?”

“No, that’s why we’re going to goodwill.”

“Please tell me we’re not stealing from goodwill today.” You ask when you walk past him again.

(You do this thing where you never ask him to move. He wouldn’t anyways but you always use this excuse to brush against him. You think he’s gonna complain about tits pushed into his chest? Ha.)

“God no. I wanted to break into Harrington’s pool.”

“Oh, a little B and E before we skip town?” You do a little shimmy and Eddie laughs.

“Yeah. Running away to Florida with your mom and her boyfriend. So inconspicuous.”

Eddie finds the most obnoxious pair of neon pink trunks and you run him into the ground with your teasing.

“Between your pasty ass and these, you’re gonna blind those poor panhandle girls.”

“Listen pet, they’ve never seen something like me before. I’m gonna have jaws in the fuckin’ sand.” He keeps flicking through hangers of swimsuits and misses your face exploding through 10 expressions before you hack out a sound that makes his head whip up.

“Pet?!” The disgust is thick in your tone and on your face.

(Another fake out. The day Eddie stops giving you nicknames is the day you cease finding happiness.)

“Yeah you know what, I don’t like it either. I heard it somewhere and wanted to give it a shot.” He shakes his head and grimaces and quickly yanks a hanger to hold up the worlds tiniest bikini.

“Found your suit.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“You’re slime.”

“Oh come on, you need something to wear to the beach. Unless you’re going stark because then I need to rethink my whole outfit.” He snorts and playfully tosses his suit over his shoulder onto the ground.

“I’ve already got one.”

“Aw, we didn’t even get to go shopping together!”

“Eddie?” You sigh and his head pops back up over the rack after picking up his dropped clothes. “Shut the fuck up.”

He drops you off at your house so you can finish packing and he goes to his trailer to start. You agree to be ready by 10 so it’s dark enough that Steve’s neighbors won’t call the cops.

(You spend the two hours mindlessly folding laundry and imaging all the tanned southern belles chasing after Eddie and his tattoos on white sand. When you try to pack your socks they’re shoved into tight balls and none of them match.)

“Is this even crime if Steve knows about it?”

“Steve doesn’t know when we’re going so yeah, still crime.”

The drive into Loch Nora is full of Eddie’s ‘songs about weed’ mix until you hit the neighborhood entrance and then Eddie kills the radio. He drives the speed limit and keeps the windows rolled up and slides seamlessly into the Harrington driveway like he belonged there. It isn’t long before you’re both shimmying over the fence and stripping clothes, leaving them like a trail to your crime scene. Eddie cannon balls into the deep end and you wade down the stairs slowly.

The water is hot like the air is hot, barely a difference between the wet and dry parts of you.

(The wet parts of you are definitely wetter when Eddie breaches the water. He’s got chlorine in his eyes so you get to stare longer at his curls flattening to his head. The blue light of the pool reflects off his pale skin and his tattoos come alive under moving water.)

“Oh okay good, I can still swim.” He sputters and runs his hands through his hair while he treads water. “Can’t be playing possum in front of the babes now can I?” He starts his slow paddle over to you until his feet touch the bottom and he can walk. The wet glistening on him has you clenching your hands under the water and hoping that he doesn’t see it.

(You’re good at this, the lying. To yourself and everyone else and especially to Eddie.)

“Is this the infamous bathing suit?” He flicks the zipper on your chest before miming an explosion around his head.

It’s a high necked, high cut one piece split down the front with a long black zipper. When you’d bought it you’d felt like the Babest Babe to ever Babe. Now though, with Eddie giving you an up and down glance you have some second thoughts.

Too much skin? Thigh? Ass? It’s no string bikini but it is tight and that zipper was hanging lower with every shift of your chest under the stretchy nylon.

“Gonna have to keep you in the cooler, baby.” He presses his finger into your bare shoulder and hisses. “Too hot.” He slinks backwards and falls in slow motion, arms spread outward to float.

(You notice it then and you think about it later, how he keeps his hips dipped below the water line. You won’t lie to yourself about keeping your eyes on him in the hopes you’d catch a glimpse of too tight trunks.)

“Shut up.”

“Make me.” He says to the night sky while he floats away from you.

You would if you could, but this isn’t that kind of relationship is it? Eddie is your friend, on every level imaginable.

Except that level that you don’t think about and keep locked in the basement of your imagination.

So you swim in Steve’s pool and Eddie pretends to be an alligator to try and pull you under.

He dives off the board and sits on the bottom of the pool to see how long he can hold his breath.

You sit on the edge and watch him wear himself out with laps and handstands and somersaults.

You sit and watch him glide through the pool like he was made from it.

You two get out of there without anyone noticing and he asks about the trip on the way back to your house. He asks about the drive and if your mom’s boyfriend will let him drive and what the hotel situation is like.

“Am I gonna have to share a bed with you?” He leans away from you, an overtly grossed out look shot at you. “You have those glacier feet and I’m not going to be held liable for any elbows in stomachs if they touch me.”

“You snore like a tractor.”

“But at least my feet don’t kill with their icy touch.”

Wayne drops Eddie off in the very early hours of 8 am. You can hear voices talking downstairs but then there’s heavy footsteps and then a huff and a shove of your shoulder and clammy skin pushing into your own sleep warm skin. Eddie smells like his morning cigarette and his peppermint toothpaste and for a fleeting moment you forget exactly what this is. That level you daren’t imagine is abruptly surface level and you roll back into him. Your nose smushes into his shoulder, your leg winds over his and you settle back into the pillow.

A solid few minutes of waking up and with every braincell that fires, your heart beats faster. He’s motionless like a corpse. Barely breathing judging by the little huffs against your pillow case.

“I am…so sorry.” The regret rolls off you and you shove off him to the other side of your bed, back pressed up against the wall.

“It’s okay I-“

“I was still asleep, I didn’t-“

“I shouldn’t have climbed in your bed unannounced.” He stares. You stare. The sheets between you two shift when you sit up and slide off the end of your bed to get up.

“I’m gonna uh…bathroom.” Stuttering and rubbing sleep out of your eyes you grab your pile of clothes and then sit in the bathroom for ten minutes.

(You lie the whole drive to Florida. 11 solid hours of kidding yourself, keeping a pillow shoved between yours and Eddie’s knees so your thighs won’t touch. Every pit stop you stare at him while he folds out from the back seat and think about wrapping your leg around him again.)

The motel is pink and blue and right on the water. The big arch that indicates the entrance to the beach welcomes you to Emerald Shores and while you don’t consider yourself a beach girl, it’s actually quite beautiful.

Your mom and her boyfriend have a room on the second floor and you and Eddie have been relegated to the bottom floor.

“Just call us peons and get it over with.” Eddie whispers at you from the corner of his mouth and you laugh before The Boyfriend can turn back around with your room keys.

Eddie spends all of ten minutes in the room before he just disappears while you’re in the shower. He comes back an hour later with a handful of shells and a pizza.

“What a resourceful Indiana raccoon you are.”

“Yes, and if I didn’t forage for us, who would?” He tosses the box on the bed next to your legs and you don’t miss his lingering stare on your calves. He covers it with a nod and a joke.

“You better wear socks tonight. I’ve already got the A/C set to 65, I don’t need you putting me on ice too.”

(You withhold the truth from Eddie the next morning by not waking him when you wake at 6 AM and find him latched around your middle.)

Eddie rents a spot with two chairs and an umbrella and he gets to talk to every girl walking the shore that afternoon. You’ve been alternating between PBR’s and waters and now to avoid the dark cloud trying to damped your mood you ratchet the chair back and scoot out from under the umbrella to take a nap. Eddie asks about 100 times if you remembered sunscreen and you tell him 101 times that yes you did and no you don’t need him to reapply it for you.

(Yes you do! If you’d stop being insane for two seconds you could have his hands on your back and over your shoulders and up along the high cut of your hip and maybe he’d dip those musicians fingers behind your convenient zipper and-)

“You might want to pull your zipper up then.”

You peak one eye open to stare down at your chest. From this angle your don’t have cleavage so much as a valley but the zipper on your suit has popped down a few more teeth and Eddie seems to have noticed.

“I just don’t want you burning is all.” He sniffs. You roll your head to look at him and catch his quick shift of attention away from you.

In your light napping you hear a few voices asking Eddie where he’s from and if his tattoos hurt. One girl says she loves his hair, “especially tied back like that, so cute.”

Another girl asks about his girlfriend.

“Oh her?”

You imagine he points over his shoulder at you with a big thumb.

“Yeah. You sure she doesn’t mind you talking to me?”

You’d love to sit up and point out that you’re awake and also that she walked up to him but Eddie beats you to it.

“Oh this is all a cover. She’s actually scoping out this beach.” He gets a conspiratorial lilt to his voice and you imagine he’s leaning forward and turning on his Munson Charm.

“For what?” Mystery girl number 10 asks.

“She’s an international jewel thief and she’s heard there’s some real old money around here.”

You snort and alert them that you are, in fact, listening.

“Wait, seriously?” Suddenly this girl sounds wary. She makes up an excuse and scampers off down the beach back to her tan friends.

“Swing and a miss, Munster.”

“No. I made you laugh didn’t I?”

If Eddie has to watch that zipper unzip another zip he’s also going to unzip all of his zips.

It’s hot, and he and his brain have been baking under the sun but he refuses to leave. With you laid out in that fucking bathing suit he can’t miss a single moment of you in it. He’s on his…sixth, maybe eighth beer and his looks get longer with every empty in the cooler. He can make out the tan line on your hip when you roll over and he almost inhales the last of his drink because you’re all legs and ass. He can’t wait for later when you’ll be laid out after your shower, shorts hitched up from you sliding down the comforter and he’ll be able to catch a glimpse of that darkening line along your butt.

“Fucking hell…”

“You wanna head back in?”

(He does. He really does. He’ll carry the cooler and his towel in front of himself to hide his eagerness. He’ll carry your shit too just to watch you walk unencumbered in front of him, leading the way back to the air conditioned heaven and your thin pajamas.)

Three days in, two left to go and Eddie has decided he’s done lying to himself. He watches you every afternoon out in the sun in your bathing suit or the worlds shortest shorts and the most cropped band tees that he thinks might have been his at some point. He watches you run and roll over sand and wade cautiously into the ocean. There’s this part of your stomach he’s positive he’s never seen before and he watches very closely for the soft roll of it to peak out from under your shirts.

(He’s wanted to sink his teeth into you for a while but this new body part makes his teeth hurt. He drools after your thighs and dreams of digging his fingers into the soft dough of your ass. He imagines while he watches you stretched out on your towel that you’d be so soft in all those hidden places and he imagines so long he lets his beer go hot in the sand.)

He walks to cheap little gas stations over hot asphalt and hotter sand to get beer with you. He’d worry you two were going a little hard in the paint but it’s Florida where it’s practically state law that you drink shitty beer by the 12 pack, daily, if your staying on the beach front.

He follows you around like a loyal hound and acts like a guard dog when these fucking dudes start sniffing around you. Tall and tan and smelling like sunscreen and ocean. Eddie walks close behind, your constant second shadow and these fucking dudes get the hint when he glowers at them.

“I don’t think Floridians take too kindly to us midlanders.” You chew on a fry thoughtfully, knee hugged to your chest.

“What do you mean?” Eddie is finally drinking water after two days and a midnight migraine reminded him why you can’t just exist off of piss water beer.

“That girl the other day didn’t think you were funny which, come on.” You roll your eyes and say it like it’s so obvious how funny he his and he’s instantly convinced he could chuckle his way into your cutoffs. “And these dudes, they practically cross the street when we walk down the same sidewalk.”

Eddie just hums at you and finishes his water. He watches you wipe your fingers on your rapidly darkening thigh and he wants to lick the salt and sunscreen off your skin.

You find this little seafood place for dinner and Eddie is surprised he even sees your mom and her boyfriend show up. They’re not unwelcome but he’s sure they haven’t left their room since they arrived.

He has to put real shoes on which throws him for a loop but it’s not fancy. Neither of you are that, especially after almost four days of bumming it at the beach and being mildly drunk for most of it. He’s still watching everything you do, convinced and baptized in the Florida sun and sand that he can tell you his truth finally.

He waits for a break in your conversation with your mom to tap his index finger on your knee. “Can we go to the gas station before we head back?”

“Of course. Need more beer?” You nod as you ask. “I don’t know if we’ve had our daily allotment.”

He laughs through his nose and when you turn back to answer your moms question his stomach does a nervous flip and he doesn’t trust the shrimp on his plate anymore.

“You didn’t finish your dinner.”

“Okay mom.”

“I just wanted to know if everything was okay. You’ve been quiet today.” You stroll beside him, sandals in hand while he carries a fifth of southern comfort that he nervously bounces against his thigh.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, “just taking it all in a guess?” The sunset paints the horizon in a way that is alien to the sunsets in Hawkins. “It’s pretty.” He says that to the side of your head while you look at the sky over the ocean. Even in his shorts and his chopped up tee he’s sweating but the breeze coming off the beach tells him this is all nerves and maybe he wasn’t ready to say it.

“Wanna take a walk on the beach?” You stop at one of the entrances and nod your head over, soft smile laid out on your face.

“Sure.”

The light paints both of you in a soft pink light and Eddie really needs to buy your mom something, anything to show his appreciation for the invitation. He could have missed out on this, instead probably working overtime at the auto shop and drinking sadly by himself, counting down time till you or Wayne got home.

Instead he gets to watch you walk ahead of him and lead the way to a tall fishing pier. He watches you kick the sand around and look for shells to add to your new collection.

“Can I ask you something?” You don’t turn around, just trust that the wind will blow your question to him.

“Anything.”

You only stop when you get to one of the massive pilings, turning to lean your shoulder into it above the mess of barnacles. You stare at him, raking your eyes over his body and when he’s about to open his mouth you ask him.

“Can I kiss you?”

He’s 23 and not never kissed, just never been asked. Your open look shows your sincerity, eyes shining in the waning light, lip worried at by your teeth. He wants to sooth those nerves and kiss the salt air off of you. He chuckles, a light huff through his nose.

“Yeah.”

Your eyes light up as you get closer, dropping your handful of things into the sand.

“I’ve wanted to…for a while.”

“It’s not just my laissez-faire beach attitude drawing you in?” He drops the bottle behind him.

“No.” You smile before you kiss him. Soft hands on the side of his face bring him down and in, his curtain of hair blocking out the rest of the world. His lips are plush and a little chapped when they touch yours, damp from him nervously licking them before you’d bridged the gap. His hands find homes on your waist and he doesn’t miss the small sound you make when his fingers creep up under your shirt. You hold on to his face and push up into him and for a moment, he forgets you’re both on a public beach. He lets his hands wander to those hidden places and eats up your groans that you place directly in his mouth. It’s only when he hears the distant roar of an approaching atv that he comes to. Reluctantly breaks the kiss but keeps his forehead pressed to yours.

“Can we go-“

“Yes, please.” You snatch your things off the sand and start walking back towards the motel, his hand clutched tightly in yours.

Later he’ll come out of the bathroom still shaking sand out of his hair even after his shower, to find you watching tv. Still naked but wound up in the starchy sheets, one long leg left out so he can stare.

(That’s where he’d started as soon as the door closed. Backed you right up against the bed till you fell and he followed your leg up to your knee up to your hip, kissing off the sand and the salt and your sunscreen like he promised. He calls you sweetheart and beautiful and sweet like honey and he gets to watch you preen under his words.)

“Have a good shower?” You’re soft and relaxed into the bed, biting on a nail and watching him.

“Eh, so-so.” He didn’t bother with a towel, you’ve just seen him and he intends on you seeing him more.

(He was right. He was able to laugh you right out of your shorts. Nervous giggles while he inched up your stomach, tongue tasting soft skin and dipping in along your bellybutton. Like magic you were out of your shorts and out of your top and he’d had an idea that you weren’t wearing a bra but the light v of tanned skin between your breast makes him pause all the same.)

“Water pressure no good?”

“No, I still have fucking sand everywhere.” He kneels on the bed to slowly crawl over to you.

(He likes how you watch him. He realizes when he has one pebbled nipple in his mouth that you’ve been watching him for longer than today. Your heavy gaze directed down at him while he licks and nips at thin skin. He grabs and gropes your breast and you sigh and he thinks about buying this motel and never leaving.)

“Oh I’m sorry baby.” You coo at him. He hovers over you and shakes his hair above you.

“See?” And you squeal as sand litters the pillow.

(Your noises kill him softly. He’s heard you laugh and groan and yell before but not like this. Your laugh when he kisses up your neck sounds different that before. When he slides your underwear off and wastes no time pushing his fingers into your wet heat, that groan is deep in your throat. He’s not even fully undressed before he has you undone, loudly yelling his name and clutching his arm while he abuses that spot deep inside that makes you gush over his palm.)

“What the fuck Eddie!” You slap at him to get him off but he drops his weight and pins you in place. You still smell like sunscreen and ocean and cheap beer and he swears he’ll find a way to bottle it.

“I don’t want to leave.” He says sincerely.

(He can’t leave actually because this is the room where he got to touch you. A hundred kisses before he even gets his pants off, 50 more before your hands pull him from his boxers, another dozen or so while you lazily run your hand up and down his length and one final one before he pushes into you slow. He forces himself to keep his eyes open so he can watch. Your gasping and your reaching. The way you bounce under him when grabs the headboard for leverage and soundproofing.)

“This is nice, isn’t it?” You sound sad as you card your fingers through his drying curls.

“I mean…Hawkins can be kind of nice too. If you want.” His chest is tight when he asks his non question. Drops his truth out into the open like that.

(That tight feeling isn’t new, he’s always gotten that with you. Now though the levels are all different. You’ve kissed him and made him cum hot across your belly and you keep holding on to his head like he’s something precious to be kept safe and and and-)

“Hawkins can be nice.” Simple agreement makes his heart swell. He takes a deep breath and finally relaxes into you. You shimmy around to get the blankets over both you and Eddie’s dead weight. He plays with the ends of your hair laying against the pillow, white sand flecks sparkling in the dim motel lighting and decides he’s seen enough of the beach this week.

(You don’t lie to him much anymore, just enough to keep his ego in check. If he had any idea just how deep it all went, you’d never be able to pull him off the ceiling. He’s still a pig and he’s still slime but he’s your pig and your little plastic trash can container of slime. You’d be lying if you said Eddie wasn’t your friend, but the levels got all gummed up with sand and shells and now you don’t have to lie to yourself anymore.)

((Sacrifice for the read more))

#Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson Smut #Eddie Munson Fluff #My Work #My Fic

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

@steddiemas Day 25 -  Opening gifts

pairing: steddie | word count: 2,674 | rated: T

hello again friends! this one is late (again, i'm sorry 😭) but here's the next part for day 25!! I had a great holiday and i hope you all did too!!

The whirlwind of the next couple days surprises him; after dinner on the 21st, there was a whole two days where he didn’t see Steve at all.

He was out of town on the 22nd alltogether for what Robin called “The Harrington Fake As Fuck Holiday Tour”, off seeing his grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins, and the 23rd is when Wayne’s plant had their Christmas potluck. 

He may not have liked the holiday season all that much in the years before this, but who is he to turn down a full day of food?

It was on the way home from said potluck that Eddie realized. 

“Oh fuck..”

“Hm?” Wayne hums from the driver’s seat.

“Oh fuck. Fuckfuckfuck! I don’t have a present for him!” Eddie whips his head around to gape at the side of his uncle’s face, “Wayne, I don’t have a present for Steve!”

Wayne huffs out a breath, a low “Goddammit, boy.” coming out with it.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Sounds like you’re goin’ shoppin’ tomorrow, Ed.” he’s still shaking his head.

“I don’t have the cash for that, what am I supposed to do? What do you get your brand new boyfriend for Christmas?” Eddie pauses. “Wait, are we boyfriends?”

“Y’do know you two were friends before you were maybe boyfriends, right?” Wayne says, “What were ya gonna give him?”

“I was going to make him a battle jacket–but that’s not nearly good enough, Wayne! He only wore mine that one time! What was I thinking, he doesn’t wear vests, he needs something better, I need more cash, he needs something-–”

“Calm down Eds, take a breath.” Wayne takes a hand off the wheel to clasp a hand over Eddie’s shoulder. “Steve will appreciate literally anything you give him, he even liked it when you kissed him,”

“Shut up,”

“And you may be right,” Wayne shrugs, taking his hand off Eddie’s shoulder to do so, “He might not be a vest kinda guy, but what if ya, now hear me out on this, leave the sleeves on the damn thing?”

Eddie turns to blink stupidly at his uncle, now gazing at him as if over a pair of invisible glasses.

They both burst out laughing, “Okay, okay, I’ll still make him the jacket…though I don’t know if I have enough patches.”

Wayne only scoffs at him, turning his attention back to the road when the light turns green, “That’s a damn lie and you know it.”

“I don’t!” “You have a whole fuckin’ shoebox of ‘em in that closet of yours! You dump it out every time you add something to your own vest.”

“Let me rephrase: I don’t have enough Steve patches.”

“The hell is a Steve Patch?”

A Steve Patch, as Wayne soon finds out, is one of any number of patches Eddie may get his grubby paws on that isn’t something to do with one of the bands he listens to, or something to do with that game he likes.

“It’s gotta be things he likes, right?”

“Sure,” Wayne nods from his recliner, not bothering to look up from his paper at the pile of patches and miscellaneous bobbins of thread that his nephew has dumped all over their coffee table. “Or you can add a few that’ll remind him of you and take him to get more’a his own later. Make a day of it.”

His silence makes Wayne look up. Eddie’s gaping at him.

“What?”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a genius?”

“Hmph,” he says, and goes back to reading.

Eddie’s hushed ‘Ow!’s and ‘Fuck!’s mingle with the low radio playing through the rest of their evening.

Steve’s old-new jacket was thrifted a couple months ago now, the denim only a couple shades darker than the denim of his own vest, and Eddie’d immediately brought it home and told Wayne of his plan.

His uncle had called him on his intentions almost as quick, saying “He must be pretty special, huh?” 

So Eddie worked through the night, moving into his own room come about three on the morning of the 24th to let Wayne sleep in peace. In the end, he only had four patches to add to the jacket: an Ozzy patch for Steve’s similar bat chomping prowess, one of the KISS logo since Steve had really taken to a few of their songs, a D20 for him and the rest of the party, and a scruffy-looking BMW patch he’d found at the same time he’d found the jacket; but the longer part of his work was the painstakingly embroidering a scattering of bats up the left arm of the jacket, and the best copy of Steve’s spiked nailbat he could manage along the backside of the right forearm, putting the spiked end close to the end of the sleeve.

He packed it up carefully, in a box that previously held kindling (old notes leftover from school), wrapping it up with a couple sheets of the last months’ Funnies, and laid down to catch at least a couple hours.

-x-

A few hours later, Eddie finds himself on the Harringtons’ front steps.

Steve should be back by now, of course, and the rest of the party he knows will be at home with the rest of their families. It is Christmas Eve, of course.

He hoped to just drop by to give Steve his gift, but he secretly hoped Mr. and Mrs. Harrington would continue to be America’s Greatest Parents and make themselves scarce for the fifth year in a row.

Aw fuck, that’s a shitty thing to think, hoping that his boyfrien—best frien—frien— Steve’s parents would be gone so Steve would have time for him?

How did Steve find it in him to like Christmas so damn much if his parents were always gone? Was Robin even telling the truth? Have they really been gone each of the past four?

Eddie’s almost-panicked contemplation is interrupted when Steve opens the door.

“Eds, hi! What are yo—”

“How do you like Christmas so much?”

“Uh..what?”

Damn it Eddie, this is not the time for this. “Nevermind, nevermind, hey Stevie; can I come in?”

“Yeah, o’course.” He steps out of the way of the door and closes the door behind Eddie when he enters. “What brings you by? Not doing anything with Wayne?”

“He’s working tonight, so our only plans are cinnamon rolls for breakfast in the morning.” he shrugs.

Steve nods, “So what’ve you got there, sweetheart?”

Eddie’s heart swoops at the name, “I uh, got you something.”

“You did?” His face looks incredibly fond.

“Yeah, so you better have gotten me something too, big boy.” Eddie huffs, wrestling with the laces on his boots “I’ll tell you all about it as soon as I get these off.”

Suddenly, Steve’s down on one knee in front of him and reaching for his leg. “Give it here before you fall over.”

Steve hooks one hand around the back of his heel, and the other makes quick work of the fraying laces. Eddie quite likes to think he was holding it together just fine, thank you, until Steve’s hand moves from his laces to the back of his knee.

Eddie’s face flushes fast, and his boot is off in the next second.

Who the fuck has a knee-pit thing?

Steve sets down that leg and carefully lifts the other for the same treatment.

Okay, maybe it’s just a ‘Steve is touching a part of me that literally no one else ever has before’ thing, but still.

All in all, it was maybe a whole 30 seconds that Steve was knelt down in front of him, but it felt like it was an instant and like it was hours at the same time.

“There ya go” Steve grins, standing again, “Can I open my present now?”

“Be my guest, sunshine.” he passes Steve the box very cool-like and not at all still flustered with his voice still pitched high, thank you very much.

Steve starts in on Garfield, stolling into the living room and leaving a trail of shredded paper in his wake.

“Ooh, a box, thanks Eds.” Steve smirks, sinking onto the end of the couch closest to the tree.

“Ha ha ha.” Eddie deadpans in return, shoving his hands into his pockets and wanting desperately to look away from Steve’s possible reaction; but he can’t. He’s nearly vibrating in anticipation.

He finally tears through the flimsy scotch tape holding the top flaps together and opens it. 

Steve’s eyes jump to Eddie’s immediately, his jaw dropping.

“Is this–” he looks back down at it, pulls the jacket out and free of the box as he stands back up to hold it out in front of him.

Eddie’s face feels like it’s on fire, like his innards are stretched and twisted like the world’s most complicated pretzel.

Steve’s eyes are on him again, “You made me a battle jacket?”

All Eddie could do was nod, his throat clenched tight.

His heart was thrust somewhere into the aforementioned gut-pretzel when Steve slipped the jacket over his shoulders. 

Why he thought he could see it better while it was on him is knowledge lost to Eddie, but he tries his damndest to twist around to see the BMW and KISS patches on his right side. He seemed to notice the threads covering his arms when trying to pull the left hem of the jacket around to admire the Ozzy and D20 patches there.

“Eddie, did you—” Steve looks up at him in wonder

“Mm hmm,” he nods, then has to yank his hands out of his pockets as quickly as he can, wrapping his palms over careful stitches in denim when Steve takes two long strides to pull Eddie to him.

Now, up until the exact moment Steve’s lips were on his, Eddie could be convinced that what happened on Steve’s back patio a couple days ago was just a fluke; a daydream maybe, possibly a nightmare meant to torture him and he really had died back in March.

But he didn’t.

He was here. Being kissed by his boyfriend. For a present he’d given him for Christmas.

Holy shit..

“Eddie..” Steve breathes his name like a prayer and Eddie’s stomach swoops in response. “You are amazing, d’y’know that?”

Eddie hums into another kiss, his head is swimming, “Hmmm..no. Tell me again.” he teases.

Steve huffs a laugh, “You are amazing, Eddie Munson, you stitched this with your own two hands just for me?”

“It’s only four patches.” he noses forward to connect their lips again, but is held at bay. He opens his eyes to Steve’s own boring into him.

“It’s only nothing, Eds. Do you see this?!” Steve lifts his arm between them, the right one with the nail bat, “And this?” he says, re-placing his hand on Eddie’s cheek to lift his left into view instead, the arm with the bats. “You did that yourself, by hand. You are so fucking talented, Eddie. I love y--it. I love it. Thank you.”

Eddie’s finally rewarded with another kiss for having to suffer through that praise.

“You’re welcome, sunshine.”

Steve pulls back again, searching his face with those striking hazel eyes of his. His expression steels. “Damn you, Munson.” he practically hisses, letting Eddie go completely.

“Aw what?” he jokes over the stabbing pain in his gut, “First I’m amazing and now—”

“Oh shush,” Steve chides him, crouching down to search the lowest branches of his tree. 

“We really need to find you a back patch for that thing.” he mumbles while Steve continues his search. 

“Ah ha! Got it!” Steve stands and rushes back to him, “Here, open it.”

A simple white envelope is pressed into his hand.

“Look, Steve I really appreciate the thought,” Eddie starts, flipping open the top flap open, “But I’ve got a job you kno—”

His joking is cut off when he feels the thick cardstock finally drop into his palm from the upturned envelope.

Eddie looks down at it.

There’s two of them. General admission, for just a couple months from now.

Eddie’s not new to this, he’s been following the bits of news he could of his favorite bands’ tours and Iron Maiden is in what, Italy right now? He knew they were coming closer again soon but must not have been watching close enough.. He didn’t even realize these had gone on sale yet.

“Steve, these are–”

“Not as cool as Metallica or Ozzy, I know, but neither are coming by anywhere close anytime soon, and I knew you liked these guys too, the skull guy? Whatever, point is, I picked them up a couple weeks ago when me and Rob went up to Indy last and I thought maybe you and Wayne could go, or you and Jeff maybe—”

Eddie had stared, transfixed, while Steve went on his little tirade, pacing back and forth, but hold on..

“Hold on, Steve, stop.”

He does, looking nervous.

“Steve, sweetheart, first of all: thank you. This is amazing, perfect even! Second,” he drops the envelope onto the coffee table and runs his hands up and down Steve’s arms soothingly, “What in the world makes you think Wayne would want to come with me?”

It works, and Steve huffs out a laugh, rolling his eyes at him.

“You know what I meant, dickhead.”

“I know, sweetheart, but there’s only one person I’d want to come with me.”

Steve’s lips twitch, “I dunno Eds, I’m pretty cool with Claudia, but I don’t think even I could convince her to let her precious Dusty Buns go with you.”

Eddie smirks at him, letting his arms go “Now who’s being a dickhead.”

Steve smiles back, then his face falters, “You sure you like them? I can always get them exchanged or give them to someo—”

“You better fuckin’ not,” Eddie says, snatching the envelope back up and clutching it close to his chest, “My boyfriend got me these tickets, you cur.”

He expected Steve to latch on to that one, say something like “What–What’d you just call me?”, or “Cur? Who are you, Shakespeare?”, hell, even something as simple as “..Gross.”, but nothing comes.

He’s just…staring at him.

“What? Do I have something on my face?”

“...Boyfriend?”

Oh shit.

“Um..” Eddie gulps loudly, “Y-yeah, that okay?”

Steve’s hands are cupped around his face not a second later, and his lips on Eddie’s another moment later.

He’s lost to the feeling instantly, there’s nothing but SteveSteveSteve running through his head, wading through his soupy brains to reach all corners.

Steve licks into his mouth and Eddie melts to his front, arms wrapping around his boyfriend.

Eventually, Steve pulls back enough to murmur, “I’d love to be your boyfriend, Eddie.”

Eddie kisses him again, nothing pushy, no expectations, only the weird sense of gratefulness he has for Steve accepting his new title.

Steve hums in satisfaction when Eddie finally does let him go and gives him a last quick peck on the nose, which Steve pushes him off for with a smile.

“So whattya wanna do tonight, sweetheart? You got any good movies around here?” Eddie says, turning to squat down in front of Steve and Robin’s pile of favorite tapes next to the TV.

“Well, you know…”

“..I know?” Eddie encourages, picking up a copy of Rocky Horror in one hand and Rocky in the other.

“There are some things I haven’t done with a boyfriend before..”

“Uh, yeah, I’d hope not Stevie.” Eddie scoffs as Steve starts to move, heading out the room, “You’ve never had one before.”

“Exactly.” He rounds the corner out the door.

Eddie assumes he’s heading to the kitchen for snacks, but drops both tapes when he hears the bottom step creak.

Oh.

You’re just a whole-ass idiot, aren’t you Munson?

“You comin’ Eds?”

Eddie’s on his feet in an instant and on the steps behind Steve before he’s even done talking. “Holy shit, uh..yes, yep, yeah the fuck I am, Jesus H. Christ.”

oooohh i think the fic rating is about to go up 👀

some notes:

i based the ticket text off this image from a Bon Jovi show a week before iron Maiden's scheduled show (i couldn't find a pic of the IM show ticket, and i'm not sure if it also started at 7:30)

$14.50 in November 1986 dollars would $40.33 in November 2023 dollars!

the show date is an actual date i got from Iron Maiden's website! and eddie was right, last he may have heard, they would've likely played their last shows in Italy before the holiday in '86.

i am not the first or last person to give steve a jacket with patches and i just know he's gonna have fun finding more pins and patches for it with both robin and eddie <3

other parts! Pt. 1 (Day 1) | Pt. 2 (Day 2) | Pt. 3 (Day 5) | Pt. 4 (Day 6) | Pt. 5 (Day 7) | Pt. 6 (Day 11) | Pt. 7 (Day 13) | Pt. 8 (Day 18) | Pt. 9 (Day 21) | Pt. 10 (Day 25) [YOU ARE HERE] also on AO3! this year

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #steveddie #eddeve #eddie munson x steve harrington #st #st fic #stranger things fic #steddie fic #stranger things #wayne munson #iron maiden #steddiemas #christmas #gift giving #i can hc steve as having gift giving as a love language right? #that cool with everyone? #okay cool #noelle writes

[static-sulker]

I might maybe possibly be thinking of a modern fantasy apartment AU with the main crew. All of them being stupid ass magical roommates without tadpoles...Just letting them be happy.

Also my Tav is in there because...yeah. His name is Silk and he is such a silly guy ridden with the 'tism. Drow Warlock who sees the good in everything... Such a...A yeah...

Little notes i've been conjuring about this...

Gale and Wyll made a chore chart in the kitchen, with little magnets for each person. Astarion regularly will switch his magnet in the middle of the night just so he doesn't have to do the fucking dishes and EVERYBODY knows besides Gale and Wyll. Wyll is on the fence about it, but Gale wholeheartedly believes when Astarion lies through his teeth about never having done it.

Karlach and Halsin go on grocery runs in the mornings. Karlach goes for the running part, while Halsin comes along for the run as well as to stop Karlach from buying the most horrendous shit. The one time she went alone very early in the houses lifespan, Karlach bought like 3 bags of go-gurt, about 50 dollars worth of cheap booze, and a big piece of raw steak to cook. She burnt said steak. But she's trying now, at least.

The team will take turns every now and then to get Astarion blood from themselves as it gives Astarion a lot more energy then normal settling blood. BUT they do have "blood bags" that they set up in the kitchen fridge whenever they know nobody with the right blood is gonna be available to give him blood if he needs it. They TOTALLY get it by legal means and it TOTALLY doesn't melt Astarions heart that they try so hard to help him.

Silk finds a stray dog in the alleys of their building one day when they went out to work (they do freelance art with their magic for like startups, it's fun). After casting "speak with animals" they find out this dog, Scratch, is waiting for his owner to return. His owner was killed out by some gnoll gang downtown. When they come back from work later in the evening, they find Scratch again, still waiting. Long story short, Silk adopts scratch in their very strict "no pets" rule of an apartment. And don't get me STARTED on the owlbear cub. Lae'zel and Halsin were out, originally to get some spare lightbulbs and tools for the apartment and find the little critter getting chase by some goblins in some backalley parking lot. Lae'zel plans to ignore the thing, but Halsin assists the cub. Once done, they plan to leave, before the cub begins to follow them home. Halsin names the cub "Vauva" and Lae'zel soon becomes SO attached.

They have presentation nights, where everybody makes slideshows about literally anything. Last week, Gale made one about the conflicts of archmages and the idea of apprentices. Karlach then made a tier list on the worst monsters ever documented, Lae'zel helped with that one. Shadowheart made this whole discussion over her favorite and least favorite teas (she fuckin' hates green tea for like no reason). Wyll made one on Baldurs Gate history. Astarion made a smash or pass list of all of the political leaders in Baldurs Gate. Silk made a presentation on the weirdest underdark myths and rumors they have heard on their time above ground. Halsin presented (well more like persuaded) on getting a new herb for their kitchens row of herbs and spices set on the windowsill. They have too many and he got like 5 minutes of stand time before Karlach kicked him off.

Lae'zel hate-cleans when shes mad at somebody in the apartment. Basically, she cleans every room in the entire fucking apartment BESIDES any of said "victims" parts of the house. One time, she got into a fight with Shadowheart and threw all of the dirty laundry she had so carefully put into the laundry room back into her room just all over the fucking place. If shes calm though, the house is normally fairly clean under her and Wyll's watch. It's one of the only things they agree on.

Because every bg3 piece of content I make loops back to bloodweave, I think they would have a little reading time together. Like whenever everybody is settling down for the night and they are up for it, they take this lovely window seat couch/bed thing in Gales room and just take out a good bottle of wine and a book for each of them and just read until late. They originally did this separately, but when the two find themselves both in the living room at 2 in the morning reading, they decide in silent agreement to make it routine. They sometimes read in silence, other times just talking absently about anything. Shadowheart finds out first by coming in to Gales room late one night to return a book he lent to her to find the two both passed out, tucked away in the window, books still in hand before they accidentally passed out. Shadowheart then teases them with photos the morning after.

Karlach and Lae'zel both do these really intense shadowboxing exercises in Karlachs room whenever the two have freetime and enough energy to go through with it. It's a heated bitter rivalry in the eyes of the githyanki, but Karlach just loves a little workout with her friend! Lae'zel does enjoy the workouts, as she doesn't get many options to really let off ALL of her steam, even if she works at a gym as a personal trainer. She is constantly told shes a bit TOO rough with the clients so she has to "tone it down". So it's nice.

Astarion and Shadowheart have girls nights. Like they paint each others nails and watch like twilight together (ironically they get so heated at how wrong they get it. "Just another human writer writing about shit she doesn't get" is used a lot in their rewatches). They also talk about like...their feelings. But it's very sparse and done so by a copious amount of wine (wine with a heavy amount of blood on the side for Astarion). Both of them never got to have moments like this in their childhoods, of just pure calmness and domestic childhood enjoyment, so they make due with what they can.

BY THE HELLS I JUST REALIZED I WROTE THIS MUCH. DAMN OKAY.

#baldurs gate three #baldurs gate au #bg3 modern fantasy au #origins apartment #bg3 astarion #bg3 karlach #bg3 gale #bg3 wyll #bg3 lae'zel #bg3 halsin #bg3 shadowheart #astarion ancunin #gale dekarios #karlach cliffgate #shadowheart #lae'zel #wyll ravengard #halsin #bloodweave #can you see im crazy about this?

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Mortified (Broadchurch)

Alec Hardy x GN!Reader (fem anatomy) 18+ ONLY / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: Being in the office so late usually meant that you had complete privacy- though that doesn't account for people leaving things behind, does it?

CW: semi-public sex, vaginal fingering, getting caught in the act

Broadchurch tag list: @clarina04 @kaylinelizabeth4004 (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

There was one benefit to Alec’s odd working hours- and that was that there was barely anyone at his office late in the evening. The other less workaholic-inclined employees trailed off to a trickle around eight in the evening, and by ten it was usually just Alec. Past that- well, the office was pretty much a definite ghost town. 

You didn’t come over to the station every night. That would be far too tiring and you had your own job to get to in the mornings. But some nights when all you wanted to was to spend time with Alec- just to see him. On those nights you made the sacrifice to your sleep to go and see him. 

He always grumbled at first, complaining about how he just had too much work to do and how you shouldn’t be there because it was a risk to whatever investigations he was working on- blah, blah, blah. He always gave in though when you brought him an extra strong espresso and a kiss hello. Yes. An extra strong espresso at ten plus in the evening. You were aware of how ridiculous it was.

Tonight, you’d managed to convince Alec to hoist you up onto his desk and finger fuck you to within an inch of your cunts life. He was standing between your pushed-open legs, tie loose around his neck and sleeves rolled halfway up his arms. The fabric of your skirt was stretching and you were almost worried that it was going to rip up the seams. Though you were pretty sure Alec would get a real kick out of that. 

The man in question currently had his tongue in your mouth and three fingers flexing and pumping mercilessly into your pussy. You were pretty sure there was slick dripping down onto his desk and coating his mouse pad. He’d have to get a new one at this rate.

“God, look at you,” he says, forcing himself to pull away from your mouth and dropping his head onto your shoulder. His fingers didn’t stop pumping for even a second, even though you were absolutely sure his whole arm was aching from wrist to shoulder blade. Oh well, at least you could say with confidence that he never skipped arm day. “So fuckin’ tight for me, darlin’.” 

You whined and did your best to grind yourself onto his fingers.

“Holy- Sir- fuck, sorry!” 

You froze, cunt clenching around Alec’s fingers half in fear and half in desperation as he came to a complete stop. You were panting, looking over his shoulder at the back wall of his office but you’d recognise that voice anywhere. 

“Miller,” Alec said somewhat awkwardly. “What’re you doin’ here so late?” 

Alec’s fingers started to retreat, pulling out of you. You did your best to contain the whimper of complaint threatening to spill from your lips. 

“Oh- I- needed- I, fuck- don’t worry about it,” she said quickly. “See you tomorrow!” 

You heard rapidly departing footsteps back into the office and down the stairs towards the doors. You groaned, head dropping back. Alec’s face was flushed such a deep red that it might have looked as though he had a rash if you didn’t know better. 

“Well, that was…” you trailed off, looking for the right words. 

“Mm,” Alec agreed, looking positively mortified. 

You broke off into a fit of horrified giggles, and you were pleased when Alec at the very least broke out into a smile. 

“Ellie’s never going to look at you or me or this desk the same way ever again,” you giggled, pressing kisses to Alec’s cheeks. 

“Probably not,” he agreed. “Now, where were we, eh?” 

You gasped as his fingers started moving again, his thumb coming to rub against your clit. 

“Where indeed?” You asked breathily, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

Alec chuckled darkly as you keened under his touch. 

“There y’are. So good for me.”

#A/N: look- just ignore that this is an Emmett gif- there aren't many Alec ones left that i havent used haha #broadchurch s3 #broadchurch s2 #alec hardy x reader #alec hardy fanfic #alec hardy #broadchurch #david tennant #alec hardy fanfiction #alec hardy one shot #alec hardy imagine #alec hardy x you #alec hardy broadchurch #alec hardy fic #broadchurch fanfic #broadchurch alec hardy #broadchurch fanfiction #di alec hardy #alec hardy imagines #alec hardy drabble #alec hardy x reader insert #inside man #david tennant fanfiction #david tennant x reader #david tennant imagines #alec hardy x yn #alec hardy x gn!reader #alec hardy oneshot #bbc broadchurch #broadchurch show

[loveandmurders]

hii, can i request some angst with bo sinclair, maybe him and the reader (gn please :3) get into a fight, he basically says he doesnt need the reader and tell them to get out, and the reader leaves and doesnt know where to go so they hide in one of the abandoned houses, n basically hide there all night while bo (whos too stubborn to admit hes nervous) waits at home for them, but they accidentally fall asleep n wake up at like 4am or smth and the entire town is turned on as bo and vincent look for them? fluffy ending please? just break my heart then give me some tooth rotting fluff

thank you, have a wonderful day/night!

Hello love, I'm sorry it took me so long to write and post this request. I really hope you will enjoy this <3

GO BUT DON'T LEAVE ME

Gender neutral reader, with no physical description.

Warnings: Verbal abuses from Bo, Bo is an asshole but he loves you, morally grey reader who enjoys the killings, mention of blood, violence, killings, little injuries, tears, angst/comfort.

You didn’t know why, but lately, a lot of tourists were coming by Ambrose. You were glad because it meant the boys had all the work they wanted, and Bo could take out his anger on strangers, but at the same time, it was saddening you. You were feeling a little bit neglected by your boyfriend who was getting up early every morning and coming home late at night. And because of the hunt, you had to stay locked up inside the house for your own safety. You tried to busy yourself in the kitchen, and to take care of yourself, but you were starting to get bored and you wanted Bo’s attention more than anything.

Actually you had planned on trying to trap Bo in bed with you this morning, and then to have some sexy time under a warm shower, before continuing to seduce him with some pretty outfits you found in one of the tourists’ suitcases. If you were good enough, you could even hope for Bo to bring you to a restaurant for lunch. You really thought you could manage that because you had been good at having Bo wrapped around your little finger; your little attentions and cuddles worked a lot more on the man than he wanted to admit it.

But it seemed like it wasn’t your lucky day. As you tried to love on Bo for him to stay in bed, he roughly pushed you away from him and got up.

“Gonna be late ‘cause of your stupid ass” he told you as a greeting and you felt quite hurt because you just wanted him. But you were as stubborn as him so you got up, your naked body in its whole glory and you pressed yourself against his back.

“Maybe we could have a shower together, I could wash you up?” you offered as you kissed his shoulder blade, but Bo wasn’t in the mood today. He was overwhelmed with all the chores and work he had to do, and he was almost hoping there wouldn’t be any tourists today because he already had a lot of cars, windows and houses to fix after the last ones.

“Leave me alone” he said and he pushed you away again.

“But Bo…” you whimpered

“What?” he snapped, anger quickly rising inside of him

“I’ve been missing you…” you replied with a pout on your face

“Oh yeah? Well ya know what, all this work gives me some fuckin' peace! I just can’t with your neediness and clinginess all the damn time” he spat and you felt your heart breaking at those words. He was slicing deep into your worst and hidden insecurities. You always thought you were too much for people to enjoy, and to hear it from Bo’s mouth was worse than being slapped across the face. You looked down.

“I’m sorry, Bo, I’ll do better” you whispered because you loved the man and you wanted him to still love you.

“Ain’t givin’ a fuck, Y/N.” he said before grabbing his clothes and leaving for the shower.

You had no idea what to do. You wanted to cry but you couldn’t be that pathetic. You put some clothes on and you went downstairs to prepare breakfast. At least you could be a little bit useful, right? 

You were cooking some pancakes when Vincent entered the room. You quietly greeted him and he could tell something was off, because you had been quite a ray of sunshine in Ambrose since you were there. He asked you if you were alright and you simply nodded. You thought you needed to shut up and to give Bo some space, and hopefully things would be back to normal soon. Vincent didn’t insist but he knew he would need to keep an eye on you. He was aware of how his twin had the talent to ruin what was making him happy.

Bo sat at the table without a word. And as you placed a plate in front of him, you accidentally knocked down his glass of orange juice that fell on the ground and broke. You silently cursed yourself and were about to kneel down to clean up when Bo grabbed your wrist and pushed you against the closest wall. You gasped at the rage swirling into his eyes.

“Ya’re fuckin’ useless, ya know that” he screamed at you and you felt tears rising up.

“I’m sorry, it was an accident” you replied “I’ll clean up, you can eat your pancakes” you continued

“Ya give me no order” he growled. “Didn’t even ask ya to put food in front of me. Who do ya think ya are, my mother?”

“I’m just trying to take care of you” you said and he started to laugh. It was a cold dry and menacing laughter that made you shiver.

“Because ya think I need you? Ya think any of us needs you? The only reason we didn’t kill ya was because I wanted to fuck ya. I fucked ya, and now what, hmm? Honestly, nothin' to go back to” he added and Vincent got up and put a hand on his shoulder to make him stop. He knew that his twin was lying and the way you were starting to silently cry was quite upsetting. Bo moved from his touch but he let you go too. You had no idea what to do. It was the first time Bo was vicious and cruel with you. You needed to busy yourself to not let his poison completely break your heart. You were about to clean up the mess you did once again.

“Oh my god, just go” Bo cringed as he didn’t want to see you come closer again.

“Let me remove the glass pieces and I’ll go” you promised, as you were worried anyone would get hurt because of the glass. Lester might come home soon with Jonesy too and you didn’t want her to hurt her little paws.

“Fuckin’ LEAVE!” he screamed this time and you froze. Vincent tried to reach for you and bring you away from Bo before his twin could say something he would regret later on. “Leave this fuckin’ room! No ya no what, leave this fuckin’ house and never come back! I’m so done with ya, I don’t need ya, no one needs ya, no one loves ya and ya need to get the fuck out of Ambrose!” he yelled again as he threw the plate of pancakes on the ground too. You jumped and before Vincent could stop you, you ran away.

Your vision was blurry because of the tears. You couldn’t stop crying. You couldn’t think either, emotions swirling inside your heart and negative thoughts swirling inside your head. You rarely felt so bad. You ran for quite a while until you collapsed on the ground. You slightly hurt your knees and palms but you didn’t notice. You cried even more, until there was no tear left. You took a deep breath and looked behind you. The house was far away now, but you weren’t outside of Ambrose yet. 

The thing was you had no idea where to go. Ambrose had become your home and you had left your previous life without any hesitation. You enjoyed living with dangerous people, you liked their way of life and you found the murders very hot and arousing. You were a missing person in the real world, and if you came back to your old life, you would have to tell about the Sinclairs, and you would then need to go back to this boring and mediocre existence. You didn’t want that, but Bo made it clear he didn’t want you anymore. You weren’t too sure what to do, so you decided to wait and to rest in one of the last houses of the town. The twins rarely went there, and it would give you some time to determine what to do. 

You opened the front door and sneezed at all the dust and cobwebs lying around. At least, you should be safe here. You found a room upstairs and settled there. You got rid of some of the dust and you sat on the bed. There was a wax statue there, with you and you took some comfort in the presence. It wasn’t the best of Vincent’s creations, hence why it was there (you could tell Vincent had to put the members back on the body and it had been quite hard to do so). But at least you felt home and not completely alone.

You napped a little for the day to go through and then you explored the house. You found some old books and little boxes with jewels inside. You were certain the boys didn’t know about this, and it gave you the idea to explore more of the abandoned houses… Until you remembered Bo wanted you out of town. You tried to not start crying again. Your attention was soon somewhere else as you heard gunshots. You sighted as you understood more tourists came today. You hoped the boys would be fine, and wouldn’t get hurt because you wouldn’t be there to take care of them, like you usually did. You also hoped no one would find you there; it would be stupid to get killed now. At the same time, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You wouldn’t be able to stay hidden in this house forever, and you weren’t sure you would be able to get back to a more normal life.

Maybe you should get killed, actually. But life could be so fun too.. If only Bo wanted you back, even if you were getting quite angry at him for the way he talked to you as well.

You continued to listen to everything happening in the town and until late in the afternoon you heard screams and the usual hunt noises. The sun was slowly going down when the silence came back in town, and it seemed the boys had been able to get rid of the tourists pretty fast this time. You were glad for them, hopefully it meant the boys hadn’t been injured and the tourists hadn’t ruined more stuff in town; Bo had already his hands full. 

You sighed as your attention was back, one more time on your current situation. You still didn’t know what to do. Finally you tried to get some more rest because your brain just couldn’t think about what to do. 

And you slept like a rock, as all the emotions took their toll on you. 

You missed the three men calling your name in the silence of the ghost town, far away from where you were. You missed the worry creeping in the more they called for you. You missed the phone calls too, because you forgot your phone at the house and when Bo found it, he cursed even more.

As you were sleeping your worries and troubles away, Bo was sitting on his armchair, waiting for the front door to open. He had told his brothers that you were going to come back home on your own, and that it was not necessary to look any more for you. Vincent and Lester insisted but he refused, too proud to admit he was concerned. You were smart and independant but, at the same time, you needed him so much that soon enough you would come back. And you loved him enough to know he didn’t mean what he told you this morning. 

It was what he was repeating himself to keep calm. 

The truth was that he couldn't focus on the TV because his attention was on the front door, and that he couldn't even drink his beer because his throat was tight. He was silently cursing himself for having fucked this up so badly. You were one of the rare good things that happened in his life, and maybe you were gone forever now. No, no, that was impossible because you were soulmates. You weren’t saying “I love you” to each other very often, but you truly adored each other. Bo knew he was going to propose to you one day because he couldn’t imagine getting back to a life without you. He promised himself he would be better if… no, once you would be back home. This wouldn’t happen again, because he wasn’t the monster his father said he was, because he needed you, because he also had been madly missing you lately - and even more today - but he hated how weak his love made him feel.

However, after midnight, he just couldn’t take it anymore. He was going to lose his mind if you didn’t come back home now. He got Vincent from the basement and called Lester who was about to come back to his own house. His brothers were quick to help find you, because they liked you, but also because they didn’t want to scrape Bo off the ground if they realised you were truly gone. 

The three men started to look for you and they hoped you were still inside of Ambrose, in one of the houses or somewhere close by. They also hoped that no tourist found you, and that you were all safe and sound somewhere hidden. They had turned on all the lights and were screaming your name. Bo was the loudest, and he was slowly starting to really panic. He couldn't stand the idea he might have lost you. He just wanted you back in his arms and to go to sleep with you.

You didn’t plan on sleeping so much, completely unaware of the circus that was happening in town. You woke up to a soft scratching sound on the bedroom door. You didn’t understand what it was at first. Actually, you woke up completely lost and confused. It was about 4 am now, and you were disoriented. You needed some time to remember you were in an abandoned house because of a very bad argument with Bo. You sat up, and looked around the room, trying to analyse your surroundings. After a little while, you heard a dog gently whining and you got up to open the bedroom door. Jonesy bolted inside the room and you giggled. You knelt in front of her and hugged her for comfort. 

“Such a good girl you are, you found me!” You praised her as she licked at your cheek. You hugged her more tightly and you closed your eyes. “You’re the only one who wants to find me” you sadly whispered and she cutely barked at you to tell you it wasn’t true!

It was then you heard your name being called and you looked up in surprise.

“Oh they’re looking for me?” you asked as Jonesy sat up. You, on the other hand, got up to look through the window. You blinked at the vivid lights and when your eyes started to get used to the brightness, you saw the Sinclairs looking for you. You couldn’t stop the smile from appearing on your face. It brought you some peace and relief to know you were still loved by your family. You straightened up your clothes and left the room, Jonesy on your heels. She wasn’t going to let you out of her line of vision, just to make sure you were safe and sound. 

You walked closer to the Sinclair house before answering their calls.

“I’m here!” you cried out and when Bo found out where your voice was coming from, he rushed to you. Before you knew it, you were in his arms. He tightly hugged you against his chest, stroking your back and taking into your scent. He was so relieved.

“Thank God” he whispered to himself but you heard him. 

You hugged him back, but you were still hurt by what he yelled at you earlier, and you weren’t going to forget about all the things he said so easily. However, you let him bring you home without a fight. Vincent and Lester hugged you as well and asked you where you were. You answered as Bo sat you down to check on you. He disinfected your little wounds on your knees and palms before putting band-aids on them as he listened to you. They all were glad you stayed close by. You let Bo take care of you without a comment and you didn’t dare to look at him for too long. You weren’t too sure what his mood was right now, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to take any more yelling at. Lester waited for Bo to be done to gently kiss your cheek and greeted you a goodnight. Jonesy refused to follow him and she stayed by your side like a true guard dog. You petted her head and cooed down at her for being such a good girl to you. Vincent sent a look at his twin, to silently tell him he should apologise to you. Bo scoffed and it made you look back at him with a raised eyebrow; you had missed the way the twins had looked at each other and didn’t understand what he was scoffing at. You were feeling insecure enough to believe it was at you. Bo tried to reassuringly smile at you before gesturing for his twin to leave the room. Vincent also kissed your cheek and reluctantly left. He went to his basement but his attention was on Bo and you as he was ready to intervene if things would go wrong once again.

“Time to go to sleep” Bo hummed and you were quite annoyed at the man for trying to pretend nothing happened today.

“Not tired for the moment and then gonna sleep on the couch,” you replied. He frowned at that and reached for your hips.

“Why that?” he asked and it was your turn to scoff

“So what, we’re gonna pretend nothing happened? Look, I'm here because Ambrose is my home… and because no matter what, I love you… But I can’t pretend I didn’t hear what you said today. I’m sorry I’m clingy and needy and not a good enough fuck for you…” you said before he cut you

“Ya know I didn’t mean any of this” he whispered as he brought you closer to him. He looked for your eyes but you turned your head to the side. He cupped your chin to force your eyes to lock with his. “Ya mad at me?” he asked and you shrugged. "Baby?" he insisted

“Ain’t really mad right now… I’m mostly hurt” you replied “I just wanted cuddles this morning. I know you’re busy but it was unfair of you to treat me that way”

“Yes, it was. What can I do to make it to ya, hmm? Too late to cuddle?” he gently smiled as his hands stroked your hip bone and cheek. You had to fight the urge to lean against his touch.

“Tell me you’re sorry, that you love me, that it won’t happen again.” you said and he nodded

“‘Course I love ya. Ya know I’m an asshole when I’m in a bad mood… but I’d go crazy if ya ever left me. I’m so relieved ya home. I’ll do better.” he replied

“So everything you said…”

“Nothin’, lies. I love ya need and want me that bad, because I… do need ya too. Ya make me happy. Do I make ya happy?” he asked as he rested his forehead against yours, both his hands cupping your face now.

“Not when you’re mean to me” you whimpered

“Won’t happen again. I promise, did I ever break a promise I made to you?” he continued

“No… but you’re a sweet talker with your southern charm… How can I be sure you mean what you’re saying now?”

“Because I want us to get married”

You stared at him in pure surprise. You knew the man was a family one, so the fact he wanted you to be officially part of it was a big proof of love.

“You’re serious?” you asked

“I wanna wake up with ya in my arms for the rest of my life, and I wanna listen to your pretty voice everyday, and I wanna pleasure ya and treat you like you deserve to be. I’m a shitty boyfriend, but I’ll be a good husband, ya know that.”

“I know that” you smiled

Taglist:

@feathery-ass

@g0thl3zz

@erasable-mustache  

@cavern-creature

@peachycupotea  

@p0rn-stargirl  

@akemiixx01

@zebralover

#bo sinclair x s/o #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x y/n #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #house of wax x y/n #house of wax x reader #house of wax x you #slasher x s/o #slasher x you #slasher x reader #slasher x y/n

[pretending-ican-write]

Cowboy Up - Pt.4

A/n: I think there will be another part after this before the show starts and they will be getting together! I'm currently going through episode by episode and pulling out all the scenes I want to be a part of this. No promises that this won't get abandoned or take forever to write but I do have a mental endgame for it in s5!

Pairing: Ryan (Yellowstone) x Dutton!reader

WC: 871

Previous part - Next part

---

The peace of a still sleeping bunkhouse was disturbed by Rip rushing in and the loud bang of the door against the wall.  

“Lloyd, have you seen y/n?  She didn’t answer the door and the trailer’s locked,” he asked hurriedly scanning the bunkhouse, “Ryan why the fuck are you on the couch?”

Rip looked at the hand under the blankets and connected dots as Lloyd stirred from his own bunk to ask what was going on.  The foreman stormed into the other room to find exactly what he expected, y/n just waking up in Ryan’s bunk.  She rolled over and looked over up at him confused.

Y/n pulled herself up in the bed, “why are you shouting at 4 in the fuckin’ morning Rip?”

In lieu of an answer, he turned back around to where Ryan was waking up and hauled him to his feet to shove against the wall.  Suddenly everyone in the bunkhouse was awake and aware of what was going on.  They all surrounded the pair but nobody was about to get in the middle of whatever was going on, except y/n who was being kept from getting in between them by Jake.

“What the fuck is she doing in your bunk,” he growled.

Y/n shook Jake off her, “the hell Rip!  There’s no heat in the trailer and I was freezing my ass off in the barn so he insisted I come in here.  Stop being such an overprotective asshole!”

“If you even think about laying a finger on her in any capacity I’ll have them,” Rip threatened before releasing him and turned to the rest of them, “that goes for every one of you fuckers.  She’s off limits.”

He didn’t wait for an answer and headed out of the bunkhouse leaving the crew speechless.  Y/n turned to Ryan and checked that he was okay before storming after the foreman.

“What the actual fuck do you think you’re doing Rip!” She yelled at him, “you have no right to do that.”

Rip turned to glare at her, “he’s taking advantage of you.”

“Oh give me a break.  He was being a gentlemen which is more than can be said for most people in there.  I’m not a little girl that needs your protection anymore.  I can make my own decisions and I’m big enough to own my mistakes and Ryan certainly wouldn’t be one.  But I don’t think you need to worry, I’m hardly his first pick,” she finished bitterly.

Y/n went back to the bunkhouse in search of coffee, leaving Rip to wonder what on earth she had meant.

-/-/-

A few years later (like 6 months before the show starts)

After a long day of working the cattle for the spring gather, everyone from the valley was settled around the corral enjoying Gator’s cooking and each other’s company.  Y/n was sat to the side of the crowd having finished her food, just taking in the atmosphere of her favourite day of the year.  Gentle country music filled the air from a speaker Jamie had set up by the grill and some of the hands were showing kids how to rope on the dummy steer.  A smile graced her face as she watched Ryan and one of the newer hands, Colby who had become fast friends with him, helping a young girl swing the lasso above her head.

John watched his daughter from his seat next to Lee and how at peace she seemed with her life back on the ranch.  He picked up his beer and went to join her on the straw bale she’d claimed.  Y/n smiled at her father sat next to her before turning her attention back to the scene in front of her.  They sat in a comfortable silence for a little while, a significant improvement on how they’d been when she returned years ago.

“I think it’s time that we have our annual conversation,” John started, “even if nothing has changed.”

She took her eyes off the wranglers to look at her dad, “everything and nothing has changed dad.  I belong here again.  I finally feel like I’m part of it again.  But Kayce still isn’t here and I don’t see that ever changing.  I love you but you’re a stubborn man and lord knows my brother is too.”

“You set the terms but being back under the roof is where you belong,” he pushed.

Y/n allowed the silence to envelop them again as she thought through what was being put in front of her.  The sun was just beginning to set, casting a golden glow over the valley.  The wranglers had left the kids to the roping in favour of beers by the fence and Ryan winked when they made eye contact.  

“I’ll come back,” she relented, “but you don’t get a say over what I do and when I’m there.  I’m still gonna spend time at the bunkhouse because at the end of the day I’m a wrangler and those are my friends.  It took long enough for them to see me as more than just your daughter and I don’t want them to see me differently again.”

John smiled at her, “I’m just happy you’ll be truly home.”

#ryan yellowstone #ryan yellowstone x reader #yellowstone #yellowstone imagine #yellowstone tv #dutton ranch #dutton!reader #ian bohen

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Star-Crossed ||

Pairing: Frank Castle x Female reader

W/c 13.3k

Tags/warnings: Romeo & Juliet style gangster forbidden love Punisher/Daredevil AU, super-protective Matt, Jack Murdock is alive and well, some pretty old fashioned chauvinistic values, violence and injury, (protected and unprotected) p in v sex, oral (f rec), *spoiler* (kids in the future).

Author's note: Aaaaah it's finally done! I started this in December 2022 and I've had to leave and come back to it several times trying to work out how I wanted it to go. Huge big massive thanks to @mindidjarin , @the-fox-den and @theradioactivespidergwen for all the beta help! 

If you enjoyed it, let me know!

Epilogue

The Italians and the Irish. The Castigliones and the Murdocks. Two mob families that have been feuding for generations. One mired in dealing arms and the other in throwing deadly punches with them - running illicit underground fight clubs and loan sharking. 

Matthew Murdock was one of the best fighters in the entire city; after all he was the boxer Battlin' Jack Murdock's son. 'The Devil O' Hell's Kitchen' they called him. 

And he was your big brother.

He would certainly have some choice words for you if he knew where and who you were with right now.

"Princess, fuck, you're somethin' else y'know that?" 

Your body felt flushed with heat and bliss as you collapsed in Frank Castiglione's lap in the back seat of his car, laughing as his stubbled jaw tickles you when he kisses up and down your neck, like he's still hungry for you. 

"You say that every time Frank," you smile as you push yourself up off him, tutting as he ties up the condom and throws it out the fogged window before cleaning himself up.

Sometimes you have to pinch yourself to remind yourself that you aren’t dreaming. When the man that was so terrifying they gave him the nickname of 'The Punisher' was between your thighs, or you were between his, life felt like a fever dream. 

"I'll buy us a villa in the Lakes. You'd fuckin' love it there sweetheart, I just know it. You'll wake up and enjoy your morning coffee on the bedroom balcony overlooking the water. I'll treat you so goddamn right…"

The scene he painted with his words was so clear in your mind and yet- "Frank we can't -"

"Baby, you deserve more than what I can give you in a half hour in the back of my car."

You pretend not to hear, adjusting your dress to look a little more decent.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me this is enough for you.”

You sigh softly. You didn't need to see that puppy dog look of his to know life wasn’t fair.

"No Frankie, you know it's not, but I can't be with you like that… my father and Matty would kill you if I ran away to Italy with you!"

He tucks some of your disheveled hair behind your ear. "So you're just gonna keep leading me along like this, huh? I wanna be with you baby. I want you."

"Frankie I want you too, but they'll get suspicious if I spend any more time out and about. My da and brother think I'm taking a dance class right now."

He half snorts with laughter. "Yeah well when we 'dance' you do got some smokin' hot moves sweetheart; but I don't want you showin' them ones to anyone else."

"As if I would." You say with mock indignation. "Anyway, it's a good enough cover for why I'm always so worn out when I get home!"

Frank just smirks. "Let me at least take you dancing for real. Tell the old man you're going out with your girlfriends one night."

You roll your eyes. "Aye and if one of my da's men sees me out with you? You’ll be dead and I'll at least be locked up with a flippin' chastity belt forevermore after that!"

"Baby," He pleads and his words hit you in the heart and gut, "I've gotta be with you. We gotta find a way to make this work."

You push up off of him, frowning slightly. "The only way it could work is if you go straight. Get out of the family business and be respectable. Then maybe my da would at least listen to us instead of reaching for his gun."

He just laughs. "Me? Respectable? Well I wouldn't be able to give you trinkets like this if I was makin' a 'respectable' living now, could I?"

He produces a gold necklace from his waistcoat pocket and places it in your open palm, smiling at your surprise. It's a fine dainty sparkling chain with a little heart hanging from it. You turn the heart over and your breath catches in your throat as you read the small engraved letters 'FC' in flowing script.

You feel giddy. "Oh Frankie…" 

"Now you have my heart, sugar."

You want to scream out. Why did you have to go and fall in love with a boy from a crime family? Why did it have to be a Castiglione? It went against everything your two families stood for. Why did everything have to be so damn complicated?!

You lean forward to kiss him, fingers smoothing down his lapels. "Frank, I… I love it, but you know I can't wear it…" 

He nods, resigned. "Yeah, sure." It feels like you've just kicked a puppy. You lift up your heel and slip it into your shoe for safekeeping.

"But I'll keep it with me, always."

He at least manages a smile and you kiss him again, chiding him as he sneaks his hands in places that'd make a priest blush.

"I've gotta go…"

"Ten more minutes, five even! Please babygirl, I'll make it worth your while." He pleads so prettily for the son of one of the cities' biggest mobsters and you very nearly crumble.

You extricate yourself from his grasp, trying to stay focused. If you got home late there would be questions. Your family was very protective of you. "You always make it worth my while Frankie."

"Dancing. This Friday. Wear one of your pretty dresses… mm, and don't bother with the panties."

"Frank!" 

He hands you your coat, his lips pressed into a smile that you want to kiss off his face. "Can't blame me for tryin'. Fuck, I'm missin' you already." 

"I'll seeya. Be careful." You say opening the car door and looking around to check the coast is clear before scooching out. 

"Friday, yeah?" He calls after you hopefully.

You turn and flash him a grin as your heels clack away down the alleyway. "Friday."

~

"How was yer dancin'?"

You just about manage to stop yourself from jumping six feet up in the air as Matthew appeared seemingly out of nowhere as you closed the front door behind you.

"Oh excitin' and tirin', as usual." You reply, hanging up your coat and placing your keys on the sideboard.

"Where's da?" You ask, noting that his coat was missing from its usual place.

"Out. He's meetin' some new guy. One of' the big fight brokers from the other side o' town. He can fix us up with some top names, reckons we can make some real good money."

"Why aren't you with him, Matty? You bein' the best one an all…"

"Yeah I'm goin'. Wanted to make sure you got home okay first. You've been getting back later 'n later each time yer out. Da was worried. An I was too."

You laugh. "Oh Matty, you're so damn sweet,  but I'm fine as you can well see. Us girls just love to gab on after, you know that."

He didn't look convinced but he nods all the same and that's when you see the blood drip down from behind his ear.

"Matthew yer bleedin'! I didn't know you had a fight tonight?" Your hands reach for his shoulders to keep him still as you have a closer look and then guide him towards the bathroom.

He shrugs. "Wasn't somethin' I planned exactly, one of the fuckin' Castiglione lads showed up at the gym. 

"What? Who was it?" 

It couldn't have been Frank, there was no way, but that didn't stop your heart creeping up your throat.

"One o' the younguns, just shit talkin' and tryin' to stir up trouble. Managed to clip me before I booted his arse down the street. Christ, I'd love a real excuse to fuckin' kill the lot of em…"

You stay silent, focusing your attention on gently cleaning the small cut and sticking a plaster over it.

"There. It's only a wee one, thankfully."

"Sis, yer a doll. Always lookin' out fer me." He pecks you on the cheek before grabbing his own coat and heading out. "We'll be back afore eleven. Stay inside okay?"

"Alright Matty, see you later."

~

It felt like you had been waiting months by the time Friday finally rolled around. You met the girls, Karen, Marci and Dinah at the dancehall, trying your best to pay attention and stay engaged in conversation but you found yourself constantly scanning the bar for him.

You freeze as you feel a hand on your waist and you whip around with your fist raised, ready to clock the slimeball who had dared to touch you. 

"Woah, sweetheart!" Frank raises his hands in submission and chuckles as your expression changes from pissed to adoring in a fraction of a second.

"Frankie." You purr as he slides his arm further around your waist and takes your softening fist in his hand.

"If you're done with the fightin', may I have this dance?" He asks, leading you onto the crowded dance floor. 

You nod and flash him a smile, trying to calm your excitement and allow yourself to melt into the solid mass of him, as you drift further away from your group of friends. "Missed you Frankie…" 

He pulls you even closer and you can feel the heat of him through the thin fabric of your dress.

"Missed you more. You look so gorgeous darlin'," he says. He dances with you for a while, and oh, he's got all the moves - spinning you around and dipping you for several songs before he's guiding you towards a quiet corner away from prying eyes. You giggle as he noses your ear and kisses your neck, and when you meet his hungry mouth his fingertips dance up the outside of your bare thigh making you shiver.

"Someone might see!" You warn. You should break away, but you're eager for his touch and he knows it.

"Don't care. I need a taste baby. Been thinkin' bout you all week. Can you feel that?" He asks, and it's a dumb question because he's rock hard against you and it's driving you insane. Your mouth goes dry as he takes your hand and holds it over the front of his pants. "That's what you do to me princess, fuck… that's what you do."

You glance around, your nerves on fire with the excitement of getting caught but no-one is paying the two of you any mind. 

"What about the bathrooms?" you pant into his mouth as he kisses you breathless again.

He grins, trying to hold in his groan as you squeeze his clothed cock in your hand. "What about 'em sweet girl?" He teases, knowing full well what you're implying.

As soon as the stall door's locked you pounce and it throws him for a loop. He's usually the one to take control but he'll be damned if he won't let you get what you want. You place both of his hands underneath your skirt right on your bare ass and you swear you could get addicted to seeing the expression that appears on his face as he realises you've honoured his request and you're not wearing a shred of underwear. 

He squeezes your warm flesh as you unbuckle his belt and open his pants, taking his thick cock in your hand and giving him a few firm strokes. You slip your hand into his pocket and find what you're looking for, tearing open the packet hurriedly and rolling the condom onto him before you hike up your leg and urge him to pull you up. 

It's a struggle for you both not to moan at the sensation as he sinks inside you. He turns you both so your back's against the stall, wrapping your legs around him and bracing his own legs wider so he can fuck you the way you crave. 

You hear people coming into the toilets, laughing and chatting but it's no big deal, it's the kind of place that young lovers meet to spend some 'quality time' together, and you two were no different. You'd asked your friends to let you know, unlikely as it was, if any of your family appeared, so you felt as if this was the closest to having a relaxed intimate time with Frank as you could get.

You're at eye level with him as he thrusts into you against the stall, you love being able to see his face when he's inside you and watch him try to hold it together when he comes apart. 

"Frankie," you moan, "oh fuck… feels so good!" 

He kisses you again and it's so possessive you almost lose it, his hand reaches up to grip the top of the stall to give him more leverage to drive into you deeper and harder. 

"Princess, you're a fuckin' dream. Touch yourself baby, make it feel good, that's right baby, let me feel it too."

You do as he says, unable to curb your impassioned cries as it takes almost no time at all to near the peak of your pleasure. 

"F-fuck Frank- ohh god-!"

He curls in against you, his breath hot and heavy, letting go as he feels you spasm around him with the last few desperate thrusts. 

"Marry me." He pants, still holding you tightly up against the stall door.

It takes a few seconds for the post orgasmic fog to clear from your brain so that you can process the words you think you just heard coming out of Frank's mouth.

"W-what?"

"Marry me darlin'.  I'm askin' you to make me an honest man. Will you?" 

"In the toilets? While you're still inside me?!" 

He chuckles. "Hell, I know it ain't Paris, I just… I love you."

You beam from ear to ear, laughing too. Suddenly it doesn't matter where you are, you're just overflowing with unfiltered glee at his words.

"Oh Frank, I love you too!" his lips meet yours over and over, raining kisses all over your face until you're both laughing so hard you have to slip out of his embrace.

"You uh, haven't given me an answer, sweetheart..."

You can't help your sigh as you press your palm to the side of his face. "I told you before baby, a miracle would have to happen for us to be married. I want to, Frankie, I really do more than anything but I just don't see how." 

He kisses you on the forehead before he cleans up and helps you fix your hair and dress. "Yeah, I know." He sighs.

~

You practically hop, skip and jump up the stairs when you get home, so elated with Frank's admission of love for you that the prospect of never being able to actually marry him couldn't even drag your mood down. Matt comes around the bottom of the staircase to see what all the noise was about.

"A good night then, love?" 

"Oh Matty, it was just perfect!"

He smiles wide. "Glad to hear it pet, love seein' you so happy."

You were dancing around so much that you failed to notice the necklace Frank had given you fall out of your shoe and land on one of the stairs.

But Matt noticed it. You'd disappeared into your room by the time he'd picked it up intending to give it back to you. But then he ran his thumb over the charm again and again, gritting his teeth harder each time he read the engraving. He couldn't believe it. 

He tried to stop the rage he felt rising from his gut, but this wouldn't stand, that was for sure. His little sister would not and could not ever be associated with that Castiglione scum. Matt's hands instinctively curled into fists. He was going to hunt down that son of a bitch and after he was done with him he knew he would never be going near you again.

~

When you come out of the shower and dress, the house is deadly quiet. You knew your dad was likely down at the gym training with the boys, but you called out for Matt, eager to hear about his next fixture. You loved your brother like no one else. After your mum was gone you were brought even closer together, most days you were never apart and even when he started fighting he'd always have the time to teach you some technique and even let you cut loose on him at the gym after school. He was so very protective of you when you started seeing boys, none of them were ever good enough for you and if he had his way you'd probably die a spinster. 

"Matty?" His jacket was still on the peg. Then a glint on the sideboard caught your eye. The necklace.

Oh no. 

Fuck, it must have fallen out earlier and he'd found it. You picked it up, brushing your thumb over Frank's initials. Your heart dropped like a stone as you knew what Matt was likely to do.

When you reach the warehouses down at the waterfront, you could already hear the commotion. A large circle of people stood near one of the huge open loading doors, mostly Castiglione men and some women, shouting and gesturing towards the center. You run up, forcing your way through the crowd to find the cause. 

Your eyes find Frank first. He'd look so fine if this was any other situation. The muscles on his chest and arms rippled as he stripped down to his vest. He was wrapping his hands with cloth as a few of his clan around him amped him up with whoops and hollers.

Opposite him stood your brother, still in his regular clothes with his shirt sleeves rolled up.

Your stomach lurched with a rioting combination of butterflies and bile. 

They were going to fight.

"No!" You shout, pushing your way past the crowd and running between them. You're not sure which one of them you were yelling at, your heart tearing itself in two with the prospect of what was about to happen.

"Go home wee girl," Matt barks, and Frank catches your eye. 

"He's right for once baby, get out of here. You don't need to watch me beat his ass."

"Frankie, no! Just let me talk to him, you don't have to do this, you don't need to fight!" You wheel around to face your brother. Your blood. 

"Please Matty, you don't understand! Stop," your eyes burn with the tears that threaten to flow. "Please don't, you can't… I love him!" 

You try pushing him back but it has little effect. He keeps on staring past you in the direction of Frank, his head tilting minutely as he listens to him tie off the last of the wrap and clap his hands together, testing them.

"I think I understand enough. An' I'll be talkin' to ya later, that's for fuckin' sure, now get on home!" Matt growls.

You shiver, feeling sick with anger and the sheer frustration that the two men you love with all your heart were going to fight because of you. It wasn't heroic, it wasn't romantic, it was raw and ugly and you wished you could do something to stop them.

"You wanna set rules?" Frank asks.

Matt almost snorts with laughter. "Rules? Rules?! Don't think ya know the meanin' o' the word seein' as you've had yer greasy mitts on my fuckin' sister!"

Frank wasn't going to publicly shame you by telling him that it was you who had come to him. No, if there was ever a hope for the two of you he'd play this clean and right by your family like you wanted.

"Fine." He nods, smacking his fists together and starting to circle his opponent. "C'mon then Murdock, if you wanna do it this way, ding-ding. Let's go."

They drew up fast to each other and it was Frank who threw the first punch. Matt easily ducked it, dodging to the side and countering with his own punch that you couldn't see land through your tears; but it hit its mark as you hear that sick sound that you would usually relish when you watched the betting fights. But not today. 

You run back home in a daze, unable to think of anything other than what if Matt kills him, and what will your father do to the two of you if he doesn't? 

Tears continue to blind you and your heart is a dull, burning weight in your chest as you reach the front door. You can hear the TV on in the living room so you run upstairs avoiding the inevitable questions. You throw yourself on your bed and cry into your pillow until you finally hear the front door slam. 

The voices of your father and Matthew are muffled at first and then your da is shouting. You cower as you expect him to come crashing through your door but it doesn't happen. A little while later there's a soft knocking at your door and Matt's voice floats through. "Little dove…  c'mon lass, it's over."

You let out a loud sob, the horror of what he might have done washing over you, he'd never killed anyone before but… 

"I hate you!" You push yourself up for long enough to scream through the door before burying your face in your bed covers again; pained heaving breaths wracking through your body as you cry your heart out.

He comes in and sits down on the edge of your bed as you turn away towards the wall. "You'll love me again soon enough. I've saved you a life o' heartbreak angel. He knows he won't be comin' near you again."

He sounds stuffed up, like his nose might be broken. Good. The words do little to stem the flood of anger you feel but now you know Frank is alive at least. "You can't stop me from seeing him, and you sure as hell can't control who I love!" 

Matt smooths his hand over your arm but you jerk away from his touch.

"Here, shush now, you want Da rippin ya a new one? I've only just managed to calm 'im down cause he's none too happy about the situation. You're a smart girl, you know this can't be. A Murdock and a Castiglione?" Matt spat the name like the taste of it in his mouth disgusted him. "It's bloody ridiculous! There's never been a time we've not been dead set against each other. And ya better not have been tellin' him any of our business… Da will go properly spare then."

"I’ve never told him anything! I don’t care about the stupid business because I'm in love with him Matty! I love Frank and none of you can change that."

Matt sighs deeply, his voice hardens. "That's enough now! You'll get over him eventually. There are plenty of better men out there that deserve ya anyways. I won't hear any more about it, an neither will Da. It's finished."

He makes you feel like a child and you can't stop your tears. You cry softly, your blanket damp and crumpled from gripping it so hard. 

Matt gets up. "We'll see ya downstairs for tea."

The door closes, and you feel more alone than ever before.

When you finally drag yourself downstairs to eat something your mouth drops open as you see Matt's face. Your earlier suspicions were correct, Frank had managed to break his nose, he had more than a couple of cuts on his brows too that Da had stitched for him, and from the way he moved around the table you could tell he was decently bruised. The fact that Frankie had gone down swinging was little comfort when it was your own kin hurt.

You ate in silence. Neither you nor your father were ready to look each other in the eye, nevermind speak. On the way to your room you looked for the necklace but it was gone. 

You cried yourself to sleep.

~

You spent most of the day alone in your room. Your father came in to check on you, but as soon as you opened your mouth to talk about Frank, he shook his head, slammed the door and left you angry and resentful all over again.

At night you found your bedroom window locked but that wasn’t going to put a stop to your plans. Using a hair grip and a lot of determination, you jimmied it open and climbed out and down the fire escape. Nelson's was where you were headed, they owned almost the entire meatpacking district and their main shop wasn't far from the house. Everyone went there so you knew you might be able to find out about Frank. 

The bell tinkled as you entered and Foggy was just closing up. But as soon as he saw it was you, he pulled off his apron and leapt over the counter to wrap his arms around you.

"Oh honey!"

"You heard?"

"You're surprised?" He asks as he leads you to the back of the shop so you're not seen. "It's pretty much all anyone's talking about. Actually thought your old man would have you locked in."

"Yeah well, so did he…"

Foggy laughs at that. He's Matt's best friend and practically family to you, and out of all of them he's the one that doesn't treat you like you're still a kid. You could trust him not to grass you up for sneaking out.

"Foggy, please tell me, have you heard anything about Frank, is he okay?"

"Well your bro didn't pull his punches…  He's pretty banged up from what I've heard, and uh, he’s in the infirmary. That much I do know."

Your heart feels like it's banging against your ribs and your stomach twists into a tight knot. "Oh my god, Foggy it's that bad? Wh- I need to- I need to see him!"

Foggy places his hands gently on your shoulders trying his best to calm you down. "Hey, it's okay. As far as I know it was just a precaution for concussion. Um, and for stitches, cracked ribs, and stuff. I know it's not what you wanna hear, but it coulda been a hell of a lot worse."

You swallow past the huge lump that's formed in your throat thinking about some of your brother's unluckier past opponents. "Yeah…"

He sits you down, gesturing at the makeshift bar beside him. "Tea, or…?"

"Something stronger, Fog." 

Foggy sighs and uncaps a half full bottle of scotch. He pours two glasses, and you quickly down the scotch, not caring about how rough it is or how much it burns. 

"You know I don't judge but geez, what have you gotten yourself into?"

You grip the glass tightly and wait for Foggy to give you another finger of scotch before answering. "He's so good to me, Foggy.. Nobody sees it and no one understands. They're just blinded by this fucking age old rivalry between our families. it's insane! I love him, he loves me and I don’t know why everyone can't just mind their goddamn business? Why can't we just be together?!"

He sighs again, deeper and more fraught this time. "The thing is, this is much bigger than love hon. This… it could trigger another war. You think your pop is pissed at you? I don't even wanna imagine what Don Castiglione is gonna do to his son even after what Matt's done to him over this. Your families don't cross, and when they do blood is always spilled!" 

Your brows knit together, face falling at the thought of how Frank might be punished, how he'd be kept from seeing you too. "Foggy, I need to see him. I know you must have contacts, you can help us meet without anyone knowing… please? Please can you do this for me?"

Foggy paces nervously. He loves you so much, would do near anything for you but…

He runs his hand slowly down his face. "Look, you just can't be seen near Frank at all, okay? You can't risk that and neither can I. But I do know someone; a nurse actually. She's a good friend and I might be able to get a note to him for you through her. But that's it, okay?" 

He wheezes at the surprising force as you fling your arms around him and he gives you a small smile as you hug him tightly in gratitude. 

"Thank you, Foggy!"

~

"There's our big cock-for-brains! How're the ribs, Francesco?"

Frank winces as he shifts on the couch to sit up as Billy swaggers in and throws himself down beside him.

"Better, asshole." he grumbles back.

Billy smirks. "Oh! Last time I checked I wasn't secretly fucking a Murdock but I'm the asshole? Heh, yeah that's a good one."

Frank doesn't even dignify his comment with a response but Billy keeps going.

"So, is she nasty? I'll bet she is. Does she fuck as well as that brother of hers fights? Actually, thinkin' about it she does seem to spend a lot of time with him-".

Billy gags as Frank suddenly grabs him around the throat, ignoring the dull pain in his body as he pushes him hard into the seat, choking.

"C-christ Frankie relax, I take it back! Fuck, I don't mean it, I just needed to know how serious you are about this girl!"

Frank lets him go with a growl. "You're fuckin' lucky you got such a pretty face Bill. If you were anyone else I woulda messed it up. 'Course I'm serious."

"Yeah, yeah I can see that," he half laughs, coughing and rubbing at his throat. "Well, you better have this then." He hands Frank a folded up piece of paper.

Frank's eyes light up as they flit over your words, but then he scrubs his hand over his face shaking his head, his worries sinking in.

"What is it?"

"Shit, she thinks it's her fault that we were found out. Shouldn't have given her that damn necklace… should have been more careful… fuck!" He pushes himself up with a groan and starts pacing the room, the muscle in his jaw twitching and ticking as he thinks.

"I've fucked this up. I need to see her."

Billy's expression turns to concern. "Frankie, you love this girl, right?"

The intensity of Frank's look gives him the only answer he needs.

"Maybe you should just lay low for a while. The last thing you wanna do is potentially stir more shit up and get both of you in an even worse way. Just keep your head down, focus on the work, and then… who knows? Hell might freeze over."

Frank hates the idea of you thinking he's abandoned you, it guts him, but he knows Billy's right. He has to keep his distance for now. 

Fuck, he misses you.

~

A week goes by after you gave Foggy the note. And then another… and another. He can't possibly have given up on you, surely? But hope of ever seeing him again in the way that you did before starts fading quickly along with your anger at your brother. You had blamed him for everything, for perpetuating the rivalry, for telling your father, for putting Frank off you. You cried until you felt as though you had no tears left to cry.  

Matt tries his utmost to distract you from your moroseness, dragging you along to his fight fixtures that you used to love watching. But every one of his opponents that he beats just makes you think of Frank. 

There had been word of a huge arms shipment arriving at the docks later that week. Your father, uncles, and cousins spent most of their time planning on how they would get their hands on it before the Castiglione's could. It was a major job and a big risk, but if they could pull it off, it'd mean they could start selling weapons on the side and make even more money. You tried to talk your da out of it, piling up all the reasons he shouldn't get involved. But if there was anyone he was gonna take family business advice from, it was not going to be you.

"Matty I don't like this. We’ve got enough fingers in pies surely? We're doing alright, why is he so keen on going ahead with this job?"

Matt bounced gently against the ropes of the ring. "He wants to get one up on the Castiglione's, angel.  He won' let your little dalliance hold shame over us, he wants everyone to know who's boss."

Shame. The word made you grit your teeth till your jaw hurt, you were sick of this. Your father was a proud man, too proud sometimes. Nothing about it felt right but neither Matt nor your da would give your concerns the time of day. 

When the big night arrived you were ordered to stay behind, meet up with your girlfriends and go dancing or see a movie or something. Stay out of trouble.

Like hell. 

You carried on as if you were happy to stay home, but as soon as Matt and your da left to meet the others at the warehouse you followed a little way behind. You couldn't shake off the bad feeling that was slithering up your spine.

~

Frank smacked the cartridge back into the handgun he had just finished cleaning and laid it down on the massive table along with a gleaming array of other weapons. 

"Ragazzo, you ready?" Billy's voice drew him out of his silent brooding.

"Yeah, yeah. Gear up and we'll head to the docks. M'just itchin' for somebody to step out of line." Frank growls, slipping his gun in the back of his pants.

Billy throws him a grin and secretes his own arsenal of firearms and knives about his body. "Y'know, I kinda hope they do, I just love to watch you work, Frankie."

~

It was late when the boat docked. The Murdocks had intercepted it on its way in further down the river, overturned the guards and crew and steamed in ready for when the Castiglione's would inevitably be waiting for their delivery. You knew a couple of your cousins were stationed around the yard, lurking in the shadows of the huge containers just like you were. You knew how to stay hidden and move like a shadow when you needed to. Once a Murdock…

You see the Don's men arrive right on time, none the wiser as to what has happened until the gangplank is lowered and it's your da that steps out, flanked by two of his heavily armed henchmen. You couldn't see your brother.

"What the fuck is this?" Don Castiglione spits. He is every inch the gangster, tall, broad and extremely intimidating. You'd never seen him this close before but you could now see a bit of him in Frank.

"You Irish mutts think you can just take what's mine, huh? I'm insulted!  You should stay in your own little game Murdock. Take my advice, the guns do not suit you.

His men move forward and your da holds up a hand. "Now fellas, we don't wan any bloodshed tonight. If ye take a look around you'll find yer outnumbered n' outgunned. So, if ye will jist step aside we'll be loadin' these up in our trucks and'll get out of yer way and we'll hear no more about it, right?"

You see the rest of the Castigliones gradually appearing from out of the woodwork, and then you see him. Your heart sighs with relief that he's okay as far as you could make out. The glint of his piece shines in the moonlight as he moves to stand near the Don, who whispers something to him.

"Francesco, you are going to make good on your… mistake, and bring me my guns, capiche?"

They stand stock still for a long moment as Frank stares him down before they both suddenly spin on their heels as a deep voice like burnt gravel cuts the silence; effectively  interrupting the confrontation.

"Gentlemen. I believe I can resolve this rather… delicate situation that we have here…" 

It's Wilson Fisk. The fucking Kingpin. 

The metallic clack of weapons all around being raised and aimed at the newcomer echoes around the yard. However, the huge figure and his men remain unperturbed. 

"Mr Murdock," he continued calmly, "if you would please step aside, I will take what is mine."

Your blood runs cold. You knew your da would never back down. He was stubborn and tenacious and had definitely passed that trait on to you and Matt. Damn his fucking pride, you wanted to run out between them. Where the hell was Matty?

Just as you predicted your da stood his ground, finger hovering near the trigger.

"Y'think yer the fatcat around here don't ya, son? Well, I'm 'fraid to say that yer jist plain fat. Now run along an' let us men finish our business eh?"

Time slowed to a crawl. It was like everything was running through a sea of molasses. A shadow leaps over the railing of the boat onto the dock, it's running towards Fisk's men, Frank runs too as you see too late as Fisk's right-hand man raising his gun at your father. The shadow plows right into the second man who had also brought out his weapon, tackling him down to the asphalt. Several shots ring out like cracks of thunder and you scream as all you can see is your father dropping to the ground, there are more gunshots and then it's all over as quickly as it had begun. Your eyes frantically search the scene trying to understand what had just happened. 

Fisk is gone; disappeared into thin air along with one of his men. The other of Fisk’s henchmen was lying in a pool of blood at Matt's feet, one or both of the families had shot and killed him. You run out as you see your father being helped to his feet by Matt. They are alive and unhurt and you thank whatever gods would listen. 

It's then you see another body lying limp in front of them.

"No….no no no!" You hurtle across the yard towards it, Billy Russo and the Don are heading exactly the same direction. 

Towards Frank.

"Jesus Christ girl, what are you doing here?!" Matt rages at you. You fall to your knees as Billy turns Frank over onto his back, feeling for a pulse and listening for a breath; any sign that he is still alive.

Your father's voice is muddied in the background as the two families crowd around the scene. "H-He… that boy saved my life… he saved ma fuckin' life!" 

Blood seeps from Frank's stomach onto the ground.

"Frankie no, no don't die! Don't you fucking die! You hear me?!" Tears flood down your face as you grab his hand and squeeze. Billy puts pressure on the wound, slapping his face a couple of times trying to get him conscious. "C'mon bro, c'mon wake up for me! Wake up!" 

A van screeches up nearby and the Don orders his men to lift Frank and put him into the back. You climb in beside him, ignoring their protestations and grateful for Billy who snaps at them in finality. "She's coming with us.."

Matt runs up to the van after making sure your da is taken care of. "No… c'mon we need to get gone. You shouldn't even be here!"

"He saved our da, is that not worth anything?" You sob at him as Billy climbs in with you.

"Leave her be." Billy says. He slides the door shut and Matt's left standing as the van speeds off into the night.

~

Frank suddenly draws a wheezing breath as you hold onto his hand in the back of the van.

"Oh thank fuck. Frank! Frank, can you hear me?" Billy practically yells at him, ripping up his shirt and pressing it to the bullet wound as Frank gasps and groans in pain.

"Y-you holdin' my hand Russo?" He croaks, and you give it a squeeze, leaning over him so he can see you.

Your eyes briefly flick up to meet those of the Don, who has been silent the whole time.

"Frankie, you're okay." You tell your lover.  "They're taking you to a doctor.  You're gonna be okay." 

"Darlin'," he tries to sit up, starting to cough and you hold him down. "What you doin' he-" he coughs again and Billy helps keep him still.

"Shh, yeah I'm here, just don't move, don't move." You try not to think about how much red there is pouring out of him and onto your hands.

"Fuck… fuck it hurts- your dad, he okay?"

You stroke your fingers through his hair and try to smile. "Yes, oh god Frank, yes he's fine, he's fine! Now shh, don't speak, just hold on for me alright? You're gonna be okay, it won't be long.

You share a worried glance with Billy and hope that it's not far now.

Billy barrels through the A&E doors ahead of you and the Don's men who are carrying Frank.

"We need help here! Where's Claire? Get me Claire Temple!" he growls, taking an empty gurney from a nearby orderly and helping get Frank on it as he drifts in and out of consciousness.

A woman in scrubs very quickly appears from the triage area and immediately takes control. 

"Okay… we got a gunshot wound, anything else you wanna tell me? Was he conscious before now?" she asks you. A flash of recognition passes between you both, you had seen her patch Matt up after his fights a few times.

"No, no nothing else, yeah he was talking just a moment ago. He's lost a lot of blood on the way, can you help him, please?!" You plead.

"We'll do our best.  Please wait here."

Billy pulls you along as you both follow after the crash team taking Frank through the double doors, but Claire stops him short after she lets Frank's father go through with them.

"Hey, we're family too!" He protests.

"There's too many of you to let into the room, please, just wait here. Someone will update you as soon as we can. Right now, our main priority is to get him stabilised. Please, let us do our job."

The two of you reluctantly move over to the seating area as the other men go back outside to the van. Billy paces as you sit chewing your nails down to the quick.

"What you said…"

"What?" Billy asked.

"'We're family'." You say, catching his eye.

He stops his pacing, looking at you with sincerity. "If you're important to Frank, you're important to me. It's that simple."

You give him a small nod, returning to biting your nails and waiting with worry. 

Billy sits down beside you. "I'm sure he'll pull through. The fucker is hard to kill." he smiles and you return it, thankful that he's here.

"Yeah, he's gotta be alright."

~

After a few hours, Claire comes through the doors and you and Billy quickly get to your feet.

"He's stable. We were able to take the bullet out. It nicked an artery on the way in, but thankfully it missed his vital organs. We did have to give him a transfusion as he had lost a lot of blood. But, he's been stitched up and resting comfortably.”

"Oh my god," you felt the leaden weight lift off your shoulders slightly. "Claire, I can't thank you enough… Can we see him?" 

She nods. “You can. Just know that’s going to be groggy from the drugs we gave him. But I’m sure he’ll still appreciate the company.” You and Billy thank Claire before going into Frank’s room. 

He was groggy as Claire had warned you, but he returned the soft squeeze of your hand as you knelt down beside the bed. "Frankie, I'm so glad you're alright!"

"See, told you he was hard to kill." Billy said, patting Frank on the leg and smiling at him.

Frank chuckles, wincing slightly. "Yeah, you're not gettin' rid of me that easily. Baby, I'm sorry I got you into trouble. It's all my fault." He's looking into your eyes as he speaks, his hand reaching weakly for your face and you feel the bite of tears returning.

"Hey now, don't you cry over me darlin', I'll be alright. Everything's gonna be just fine, you didn't do nothin' wrong."

You sniff and laugh a little, stroking his hand that's cupping your cheek and wiping away your tears. "I'm the one that's supposed to be saying that! I missed you…"

"I missed you too. Not that I don't appreciate it, but you shouldn't be here. You should be with your family. With Fisk back on the scene it's dangerous baby, for all of us. What were you even doin' down at the docks?"

"I just had a bad feeling…" you interlace your fingers through his. "...but because of you my father is alive and well. I'm right where I need to be."

You're suddenly aware of an imposing presence as the Don entered the room. The man's even bigger than you had thought on seeing him up close. 

"Ah, so finally I get to meet the bella ragazza causing all of the trouble? The little bird that has my Francesco's heart, hm?"

Frank rolls his eyes. "Papa…"

You step forward. "I- I'm sorry Don Castiglione, I really didn't mean to-"

He takes your hand kissing the back of it briefly. "You make my boy happy, and so I am happy. So good to finally meet you, however I wish it were under better circumstances."

You swallow your nervousness down, nodding, actually surprised with how easy going he seems in private. "Thank you sir, it's great to meet you too."

"We are taking Francesco home tomorrow to recuperate, why don't you come and stay at the house with us? We have many rooms and I am certain he will recover faster if his love is nearby, hm?"

You're unsure what to say to such a generous offer, but Frank answers for you. "She'd love to papa."

You nod politely, still a little intimidated by the Don. "I would, but only if you're sure."

"It would be my pleasure, my dear."

Frank kisses the back of your hand. "Alright, I hate to say it but you better scoot, sweet thing. There's some shit we need to sort out…"

You sigh, not even being shot could stop the 'big men' from having their secret meetings. You bid the Don thanks and goodnight and catch Billy at the door. "Please will you make sure that he rests tonight and he doesn't do anything too stupid?"

Billy just chuckles, "you know that's an impossible ask, right?" He pulls you into a quick but surprisingly heartfelt hug as you stand up. "But I'll do my best bella nemica.

Frank can't help laughing softly at the nickname, groaning at the pain as it makes his stitches pull. "Oh that's a good one Bill, I'm stealin' that. You take care darlin', love you so much."

"I love you Frankie, I'll see you tomorrow!"

~

As you walk out into the hospital foyer you find your father waiting for you.

"Da, I…"

He pulls you into his arms, squeezing you so tight and you hug him back, relieved. "You shouldn't have been there tonight…"

You slump against him, the exhaustion from everything that happened suddenly hitting you like a truck. "I know, I'm sorry. I had to come, I was worried about you both. I'm so glad you're alright."

"Is he… okay?" 

You're surprised he cares at all about Frank but you nod. "Yeah, I've just seen him, he'll be fine. Where's Matty?"

"Out with boys patrollin', makin sure the streets are safe. Listen pet, I'm reckonin' we need to meet with the Castigliones to try an' organise some kind of truce. If Fisk is back and makin' a play to control the Kitchen we're gonna need more people an' it makes sense to join our forces."

You stare at him, your eyes wide not daring to believe. "Tell me you're serious. Please tell me you mean that da."

"That boy saved ma life, little dove. An it's war now, this changes things."

"But you've always hated them! Is Fisk really such bad news that you'd forget everything you drilled into me and ally with them?" 

"Darlin, ye have no idea…"

When you get back home you spend most of the night into the early morning talking with your father. He asks so many questions about Frank. He asks about his family and about your relationship, and you answer what you can. In turn you grill him about Fisk, and he paints a dour and terrifying picture. You understand now why he'd go back on his previous vow.

"I need ya to arrange a meetin' with the Don.  D'ya think you can talk to yer lad about it pet?"

"Uhuh, actually he offered me a room there so I could spend some time with Frank while he recovers… but I know what you're going to say so-"

He cuts you off. "Ye knew I was goin' to tell ye that ah think ye should go?" 

Your jaw almost hits the floor in disbelief. "You do?"

"Aye, you'll be safe enough there. Don's got a lotta men, an' that Russo I know is a good shot."

"Matty won't be happy." 

"No, but don't you worry 'bout that, I'll see to 'im."

You look into your father's eyes, and you can see he's asking for your help. You were scared. Kingpin had taken control of the shipment after everyone had scattered and who knew what else he had up his sleeve or when he'd choose to strike next. 

But this… this might just be the way to bring him down. If he knew anything about Hell's Kitchen, he'd never suspect an alliance like this. Fuck, even you would never had imagined it could be possible. 

The next morning you pack a bag, call a cab and go over what you're going to say to the Don when you get there. Matt must have stayed at the gym last night and you don't get a chance to speak with him. In a way you're almost glad as he'd probably chew you a new one for doing this.

The cab pulls up on the huge gravel drive and four well-armed guys in fine fitting suits give you a thorough once over and check your bag when you get out. 

"Hey! Keep your paws to yourselves, you animals. She's good." You are so relieved to hear Billy's voice, and he flashes you his charming smile while guiding you towards the imposing front door. 

"We figured Francesco would be safer here. The doc at the hospital wasn't keen on that idea, but what can they do?" He takes you straight inside. "You are here to help me look after the lil shit, aren't you?"

You follow him down the marble floored hallway, your eyes flitting around taking in the rather opulent but classic decor. "Of course, and who wouldn't rather recuperate at home if it's like this, holy crap!"

Billy smirks as he opens a door and ushers you inside the plush room.

You were so pleased to see Frank's smile. "Am I glad to see you again, sweetness." He tells you.

You bound across the floor to the huge bed that your beau is resting in. You're relieved that he looks so much better. You hold his face in your hands and are happy to see that he's back to a healthy colour. You pepper gentle kisses all over him, letting him know how happy you are that he’s better. Billy leaves you both to it and you're grateful to have some time alone with Frank. And so it seems, is he. 

"Frankie, you look good, how are you feeling today?" you ask, squealing in surprise when he pulls you into the bed to lie beside him. 

"Careful baby!" You exclaim before he's capturing your lips, not caring about the pain in the side of his gut if he gets to taste and feel you again. That wild want is there in his eyes when you break away and it's hard for you to resist giving in to it when his hands begin to roam over you.

"God I've missed you, missed having you…"

You huff at him. "Frank, you know I'd want nothing more… but you've got to rest, you've been shot for Christ's sake!!"

"Yeah, yeah I know," he says, the corner of his mouth pulling up mischievously. "but there's still some things I can do…" 

You feel the heat in your face even as you shake your head at the audacity of him. He never gives up, yet another thing you love about him.

"Just be serious for a minute.  My da’s asked if you can arrange a meeting between your father and him. He thinks our families should work together to stop Fisk."

He stops messing with you as he considers it. "Well shit, ain't the worst idea. And you agree?"

"I do. It makes sense, and it's the last thing Fisk would expect.

Frank mulls it over for a moment and then calls for Billy. "Hey man, can you get my dad in? Think we've got a proposal for him."

You're suddenly nervous for a different reason, hurriedly standing and smoothing down your clothes as the door opens. Frank reaches for your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.

"Hey, don't you worry baby." He reassures you under his breath. "Just tell him what you told me."

When you relate your own father's thoughts to the Don you're surprised when he doesn't interrupt, instead listening intently.

"...and where might the meeting happen?" He asks with interest.

"I think I know a place."

~

Foggy's in good spirits when you drop in to the shop. He’s glad that you’re okay, but his pleasant mood doesn't last when he hears what you've got to ask him.

“You want me to have The Murdocks and Castigliones under the same roof? Are you kidding me?”

"But your place is neutral ground, Foggy! There won't be any trouble I promise you."

He paces around frantically. "No trouble?! You can't promise me that!"

You fiddle with the snack display by the counter. "Look, I know it's a lot to ask, but if we can stop Fisk from becoming a permanent fixture everyone will be better off. Please Foggy, for the sake of the Kitchen." He stops his frantic pacing and pins you with a worried look.

“Fine. But if anyone gets shot, remind yourself I told you this was a bad idea.”

~

A couple of weeks later you found that Foggy wasn't exactly wrong in what he had told you. With the heads of both families and their closest lieutenants gathered in the large space of the Nelson's back room, the air quickly grew thick with tension. Matt arrived first with your father; stopping in his tracks as soon as he sensed you. You hadn't seen each other since that night at the docks.

"Matty-" you start. "alrigh' dove." he replies, only giving you a curt nod as he makes his way to the end of the long table. You sigh. This was going to be a long night.

When Frank comes in Matt stands quickly, his chair shrieking along the floor with his fists bunched at his sides. The Castigliones bristle, fingers itching and ready to reach for weapons. The tension was ramping up fast and it felt as though the meeting was about to fail even before it could begin.

"Ahh there he is. The golden boy. Fuckin’ cunt of the hour." Matt snaps.

"'The hell…?" Frank starts.

You found yourself getting to your feet.

"Christ Matt, will you just behave? Frank saved our da's life, does that mean nothing to you?"

"Aye it goes a way, but does he think he's better than us? That you're safer with him, with them, than us? Was that why you didn't come home, pet? Was this all his fuckin' idea too?!"

You'd never seen Matt this upset and angry before. You had to calm him down before something irreversible kicked off between the families. Frank shot you a concerned look but didn't interfere; knowing that anything he said could make things even worse. You pull Matty aside, whisper-yelling at him.

"Hey, listen to me Matt. Me staying at the Don's was da's idea, and getting everyone together was his too! Did you not know that?" You hiss.

Matt huffs. "No. I just thought that…" he paces before running a hand down your arm. "we're the ones that keep ya safe, love, yer family. Not them. It just feels like-" he stops himself, unable to fully admit his jealousy.

You urge him to continue, you don't want there to be bad blood between the two of you, especially now.

"I worry about ya dove. I know ya say ya love 'im, I just don' wanna see y'get hurt. When you're wit me, you're safe, y'can't get hurt. You know I love you too."

His expression is so honest it makes your heart burn.

"Matty, I love you so much, and I know you're just looking out for me but please, you've got to let me live my life for myself. I'm a grown woman now. You don't need to keep protecting me from everything!"

He sighs with resignation and you squeeze his arm.

"I know you're not sure about Frank but he really does love me, and I don't believe that he'd ever hurt me intentionally. And this? This is the best shot we've got at Fisk, you know that. Please don't throw this away Matt, do it for the Kitchen if not for me!"

He softens as you plead, "I'll do it for both of youse."

You kiss him on the cheek and whisper a sincere thank you before returning to the table where discussion is already underway. You walk over to stand beside Frank and kiss him swiftly. He's a little surprised that you'd make your relationship so public with the current situation as it is.

"S'everythin' okay princess?" He asks nervously as you place your hand in his, and let out a thankful sigh along with a shitload of tension.

"Everything's grand, Frankie." You say with a genuine smile. "Let's get this started."

The heads of the families agreed that they needed to find out what resources Fisk had, how many men and how much firepower he possessed before they made their move. It was proposed that members from each side should scout it out, and ultimately it was decided that Matthew and Frank would go.

As you watched Frank slip his pistol into his holster and give you a wink, you were reminded of the day you had first laid eyes on him. It felt like a lifetime ago even though it had been just over a year since you'd walked to the store with Matty, and Frank and Billy had been in there.

"Well that's my day ruined. Can't breathe in this town without runnin' into a Murdock, or two." Billy had remarked, looking you up and down with dark eyes and a devilish smile.

Matt stiffened, moving in front of you, jaw and fists clenched. "Y'know this is our territory Russo, so get lost or I'll help ya find your way out..."

However, your attention had been on Billy's companion, who you would later find out was the Don's son. His face was set hard, but he had warm brown eyes, and a big boxer's nose that drew your gaze. When they had left the store Frank had looked back over his shoulder, the faintest smile on his lips as he threw a wink your way and you found your face heating up.

Now they were heading into dangerous territory working together. Your heart was in your mouth as they both finished kitting up, arming themselves to the teeth just in case shit happened to go south.

"Please be careful." You say to Matt, your words somewhere between a prayer and a blessing.

"M'always careful, love." He replies before he lets Frank talk to you.

He brings your hand up to his lips and kisses the back of it as he looks into your eyes with a serious expression. "You promise me you'll go straight on home, yeah? Don't want you on these streets tonight baby."

You stroke the side of his face and bring your forehead to touch against his, breathing him in. "I promise. And promise me you'll look after each other."

Both men nod and then head for the door and you and your father head for home.

~

Matt stops Frank with his arm as he listens to check that the way is clear for them.

"Alrigh', we're good." He confirms after a couple of beats.

"Reckon we can get a read on em from up on that roof there, it covers most of their exits." Frank suggests, and Matt nods and follows. When they're situated, hunkered down side by side behind a low wall, Frank feels the oppression of something waiting to be said. The muscle in his jaw ticks as he clenches it and he can't stand it anymore.

"C'mon man, can we just get this over with? Say what you gotta say, I know you wanna. I can take it."

Matt swallows his pride and turns to his former foe after taking a pensive breath.

"Yeah, you're right, I have got somethin' t'say to ya. M'sorry. I was wrong about ya an I've been a right shitebag to you an ma sister all this time. But, there's a right thing to be done an' I'm hopin' tha we can move on?"

That wasn't what Frank had expected at all, a swift one-two knocking his brain around in his skull, but it felt like a dark cloud was lifting and he actually started to smile.

"I know you're just lookin' out for her Murdock, I get it, and I really appreciate you sayin' that. Might not have seemed like it but I've got a lot of respect for your family after meetin' that girl."

Matt nods. "Feelin's mutual. I shoulda just trusted her in the first place but y'know what's she's like, always gettin' hersel' into trouble."

Frank chuckles quietly. "Don't I know it."

They keep watch for a few more hours, noting the comings and goings of Fisk's men. After clocking where the weapons are stored, they manage to sneak in and get a good idea of what kind of firepower they have before reporting back.

The two long feuding families of Hell's Kitchen drive the Kingpin out of their territory in a spectacular blaze of fire and fists. He certainly didn't expect the Murdocks and Castigliones to team up and take back what was theirs; which was a huge advantage for the families. When Frank and your brother returned triumphant you leapt into Frank's arms, kissing him over and over and until he was almost begging for air.

When word spread of the victory everyone headed to Josie's to celebrate, but Frank knew his fight wasn't quite over. There was something else he had to do.

He's feeling like he knows real fear for the first time in a long while as he approaches Jack Murdock in the bar. He's got just one aim. One question.

Jack nods at him as he comes over, signaling the bartender to pour them a couple of whiskeys.

"Alright lad? We did good, eh?"

"Yeah, that we did. You, uh, know why I'm here?"

"Aye son, I know. C'mon then, out with it." Jack says to him.

Frank's mouth nervously forces a smile and he takes a deep breath before he begins.

"Sir, I'm sure by now you know just how much I care for your daughter, and if you don't, well… thing is I love her. Love her with all my soul and with your blessin', I want to ask her to spend the rest of our lives together.."

Your da raises an eyebrow. "Oh aye, is that so? An' would ya do right by her? 'Cos ya know if y'don't you'll have the whole clan comin down on ye like hellfire?"

"I know that and I will. She's my life now sir, couldn't love no one else more."

"Alright boy, but y'know we'll be watchin' ya."

He grins and raises his glass to Frank's own. "Well y'have my blessin', and I've no doubt she'll be happy wit ye."

Frank breathes out a solid sigh of relief and can't wait to tell you, to ask you to be his forever.

When he does it's a little bit more romantic than a toilet stall in the dancehall. He picks you up in his car the next evening. He's got the top down and is waiting next to the open passenger door as you step out of your house. You take his breath away every single time he sees you but tonight it's different, you no longer have to hide your love for each other. He takes your hand, takes all of you in, your dress, your hair, your beautiful smile. He knows he's a lucky man.

"Where are we going to baby?" You ask, but he only smiles and tells you to hold tight. You're curled around his arm the whole way as he drives you both to the hills outside of the city.

When he pulls up at a quiet parking spot you get out and can see the twinkle of the city lights below mirroring that of the starry sky. When you turn around to show your excitement he's pulling a hamper and blankets out of the trunk.

"Oh Frankie, this is so gorgeous! Thank you so much!" You squeal as you help lay out a blanket and he digs out some delicious treats, glasses, and a bottle of wine.

"Gorgeous spot for my gorgeous girl."

He opens the bottle then fills your glass and his own, and you raise them to clink and take a sip. He watches you looking out at the view, a mild breeze weaving through your hair. You're just sitting there and he almost can't believe how head over heels he is for you. Things could have turned out so differently but he's eternally grateful that they didn't.

When you turn to him you can't help but giggle at the insanely adoring way he's looking at you.

"What is it?" You smile, taking a bite from a plump red cherry.

Frank brings his hand up to the side of your face, his thumb passing lightly over your lips as you look up at him with your big eyes.

"God, I just…"

You tilt your head in curiosity as he reaches into the hamper for something, producing a small black box which he opens in front of you on bended knee. It's his mother's ring, a delicate and twisting precious metal band set with a small sparkling diamond glinting up at you.

"Oh Frank…" you gasp, any other words are lost in your surprise but he carries on.

"I love you baby, so goddamn much. And I know I asked you before but I'm askin' you now, proper. Your da gave me his blessing and I'm hopin' that you will too… please say yes darlin' and marry me? I've wanted to be yours since the first damn time I saw you. What do you say? Talk to me baby, don't leave me hangin' like this!"

Your hands come up to frame his face and you kiss him over and over and over as you answer an excited 'yes!' between every one. He's laughing with a smile so big as you hold out your hand for him to gently take the ring and slip it on your finger where it fits perfectly.

You kiss him again, this time it's slow and lingering on the lips and he wraps you up in his embrace as he deepens it, laying you down on the blanket underneath him. Your fingers slide into his hair and his hands squeeze the roundness of your ass eager to feel each other as your kisses become more heated and desperate.

Your eyes meet. "I'm yours forever now, Frank, make me feel like it."

He wastes no time answering your request, running his hands over your body, nipping and kissing at your earlobe and just below as he caresses your breast, and you push your hips up against his moaning with pleasure. You slip a hand down to feel his hardening cock through his pants, frantically scrabbling to loosen his belt and free him as he curls his fingers around the waistband of your panties pulling them down, his lips almost never leaving your skin.

"Baby, baby… mm, goddamn you're so perfect for me." He murmurs and you let the night sky hear just how good he makes you feel as he slides his fingers through your slick folds, teasing at your clit with light strokes.

"Yeah, you like that, huh? That what you need?"

"Frank please, I can't wait! Just- I need you…" you plead, pressing your body up against him and stroking your soft hands up and down his erection to make sure he gets the message.

"Oh shiiiit… alright sweetheart, shh-shh. I got you, I got you…" he whispers against your skin as he pushes his pants down and your silky dress up, quickly rolling on a condom. He moans along with you as he finally sheaths his thick length inside where you need him the most. both of you gasp at the feeling. You claw at his shirt, pull him as close as you can when he starts to rock into you. Every thrust of his hips has you desperate for the next, you want him so deep so that you can feel him for days after this and you tell him so, driving him crazy and making him fuck you even harder.

"Anythin' you want, I'll give you anythin' love, just wanna see your pretty face when you come for me."

He wraps a strong hand under your thigh, pulling it up making you moan out again at the new delicious angle, arching underneath him as he draws back almost all the way out and then fills you back up again, taking you so easily to the edge of an earth shattering climax. His hand comes up to cradle your face, watching you, seeing the love he feels for you reflected in your beautiful eyes.

"Frankie, you're gonna make me-" As you approach the precipice, the only thing in your mind is that he's yours and you are his.

He seals his mouth over yours, tongue teasing against your own, your whimpers muted as he does all he can to make you fall apart, to pulse and clench around him, your vision whiting out with only this blissful sensation spreading through your body and the sound of his voice in your ears while he talks you through it.

"Yeah baby, that's it my sweet girl… god I love you so fucking much-"

You cry out to the stars as you share in this intimate moment, showering each other in endless, breathless declarations of love.

.

.

Epilogue

#frank castle x female reader #frank castle AU #punisher AU #frank castle smut #frank castle fluff #romeo & julier gangster AU #daredevil AU

[mortuarywriting]

If I outline what the fuck i wanna see in my self indulgent au will it give me the kick in the ass to write it.

Obviously relative spoiler/high notes/plot points below

The premise is, so far, nobody has seen where Simon lives. As far as they- they being Gaz, Soap, and Price- know he has a flat in Manchester.

Well leaving base one night(ish, time negotiable), the road they were all taking in their separate vehicles is closed due to a nasty accident. Gonna be blocked for 24 hours kinda mess.

So Ghost offers to let them all stay at his place, if only for a bit or the night if they prefer

Everyone just kinda. Well this isn't what we were expecting but alright. So they follow his car, it's pissing down rain and you can't see shit before you but the tail lights you're following but they've committed and by the time they pull off the road they're fuckin nowhere. House is fairly isolated, separate garage building, coop in the backyard, and a thatch roof cottage. Whose Nan's attic is Simon living in???

Except, not a random old biddie. Just a random fat American?? It's obvious they're familiar enough with each other, giving each other shit and that there's a whole "you got back from a mission here is our you came home routine"

Whole mess. The group stays the night because now they're nosy and wanna find out what the relationship is. You both say roommates. They don't wholly believe that.

Simon and roomie sleep downstairs, he can't sleep in a bed yet after the mission and roomie makes sure there's enough background noise that he doesn't snap into combat mode everything is about to go to shit.

Next morning roomie and Simon team up to make a hodge podge of all kinds of breakfast food and between them all there are no leftovers. Concerns are had if everyone ate enough (and then biscuits and gravy settled).

Its back to routine and roomie goes out to grocery shop to stock back up on "i need to feed myself and a whole ass army dude" levels of food and snackies.

While Simon is trying to get Soap and Gaz to stop making excuses to stick around (all good-natured fun) there is a call. Roomie prefaces this with they're fine!!! But uh. They did get hit by a car. A bit. Enough that there has to be a report. Come get the groceries?

And this is the part where they find out Simon and roomie are married. Have been for y e a r s. Technically the town knows them under roomie's last name as a couple.

After the dust is settled and everyone is back at the cottage the explaining happens. Yes, they're married. Vegas happened. It's been a long time and they kinda glossed over the whole "he's a dead man" legal bit for it. Roomie still gets married rights. How do you think he has a lease as a dead man roomie legitimately wants to know. The cottage is in their name, his isn't on it to keep it all off the record if people come knocking for him.

(He does actually have a Manchester flat, though. Landlord takes cash payments however many months at a time and doesn't ask questions. Roomie gets mail from it every once in a blue moon.)

Relationship is largely "we're married but for tax benefits"esque because they're both some flavor of ace. If he's in town roomie checks on if he wants to go to the Saturday munches or not but that's sir not appearing in this fic.

But yeah. Just fun self indulgence.

Could go write the Vegas bit. Write work "being brought home". Bonding activities. List of things for when he retires. Potentially kidnapping. S o many fun options but I just. Gotta write it.

#rambles from the morgue #Some day this will be written #It's sure as shit not today

[corn-fanfiction]

SAVIOUR COMPLEX (PT. 3)

(Pt 2)

Rating: M

TAGS: language/frightening scenes including stalking/hangovers/implied past abuse/Mark Hoffman being a c*p/reader is normal and likes to do normal things/Mark is protective bc it's his job but he's also problematic/because he's a cop

"Sure you don't need sunglasses?"

You shield your eyes from the garish sun that punishes you from the window beside you.

"Shut up," you mutter. You're letting the smell of your coffee settle before trying to drink it. Mark, on the other hand, is halfway through his second cup and eating breakfast.

The tinny sounds of the cafe are ringing in your ears and pounding against your skull. You groan.

"I'm fuckin' glad you stopped me when you did," you admit.

"I woulda let you go all night if I wasn't directly overseeing your safety."

"Good to know."

"Aren't you gonna order?"

"Do you want to see me throw up all of yesterday onto this freshly mopped floor? It's a near trick- I use it at parties."

"A simple 'no' woulda sufficed."

"Toast. I need toast."

If you'd had your head up, you would've seen Mark wave over a waiter. He clears his throat and you lift your face from where it rests on your palms.

"Oh. Um, two slices of white toast, please, with butter and jelly."

The waiter nods, says it'll be a couple minutes, then leaves. You don't have it in yourself to lay your head back down.

"Why'd you drag me out here?" You mumble.

"You don't like breakfast?"

You glare at him.

"Alright, fine. Just wanted to let you know that, if all goes well for the next week, you'll be rid of me. Got the update this morning."

You perk up a little. "Does that mean the Jigsaw killer stopped?"

Mark chuckles. "That is proprietary information. All you need to know is that they think you're safe enough to not need me."

You watch him eat. You've always considered it one of the most vulnerable states a person can be in. If someone eats in front of you, they trust you, at least a little. You notice the way his jaw ticks, his hair falling in his face every so often. He really is quite handsome, and in a different timeline you'd probably be attracted to his arrogant personality. But definitely not here. Not now.

The waiter brings your toast and you start it slowly, but soon are consuming it with little thought to your stomach.

"Any big plans for the day?" He asks.

"Well, I don't have work. Probably go running, read, grocery shop. Regular, boring stuff. Why? You wanna do the domestics with me?" You joke. Mark shrugs.

"Hey, sounds to me like looking after you is like a day off. Where do you run?"

You stare at him, your mouth hanging open in a way that is, frankly, embarrassing. He looks at you in confusion.

"What?"

You shake yourself out of the stupor.

"The park off 7th. It has a track back in the woods."

"Damn, you're really trying to put yourself in the most vulnerable positions."

You sigh in exasperation. "It's the same shit I've always done-"

"I'm just joking."

"I thought jokes were supposed to be funny," you mutter. Mark deadpans.

"Haha."

True to his word, Hoffman shows up to the walking trail at the park...and he's in running gear. He's in a sleeveless hoodie and basketball shorts. The only thing he's missing is a sweatband.

And you. You nearly piss yourself laughing.

"Holy shit!"

"Thought you'd get a kick out of it."

"Aw, did you get all dolled up for me?" You say between snorts.

"I'm not jogging in a suit," he remarks, now frowning at your comments.

"Are the tags still on it?"

"You know I can leave you out here."

"Then it'd be time to update your resume."

You two begin with a brisk walk that turns to a jog. You go like this for about ten minutes of uninterrupted silence until you come to a pond.

"Hey, I always stop here. Wanna sit?"

Your both out of breath and Mark merely nods as you both plant yourselves on a bench. You take a moment to relish in the warm breeze as it passes over your skin and through the thick pines above.

"Why here?"

Mark's voice breaks you from your reverie.

"It started as a place to go to feel safe. Now it just feels familiar. It's my favorite place besides home."

"You felt unsafe?"

You give him a tight lipped smile. "Haven't we all? Besides. I'm moving on."

It's not untrue. But your words carry a sense of space and time. You have neither.

You're almost disappointed when Mark doesn't do the grocery routine with you. You think of all the opportunities it would give for you to poke fun at him and him do the same to you.

He's nicer than you had expected, for a cop. He can be a pain in the ass, usually is, but he also seems to have your best interest at heart. He's laid back (maybe more than he should be) now that you're not constantly antagonizing him.

All in all, it's growing more bearable.

You even sleep better, knowing that there's someone who's got your back.

You hadn't told them everything. You do like Mark's company, his watchfulness.

You're laying in bed. It's 1 am and you're still awake, but only because you'd finally managed to start a consistent patch on your knitting. The only lighting is the lamps which you know is bad on your eyes, but you like the dimness. It's where you feel at peace.

You don't see it at first. You're looking up to catch a glimpse at the tv, playing some late night crime drama, when you notice something out of the corner of your eye. It's the window at the end of your room.

There's no question or no hesitation. They're eyes. And they're staring right at you.

At first, you don't move, as if it's dinosaur rules. Like those eyes will forget you. Then they blink, and they're gone.

You shoot out of your bed and nab your phone from the nightstand, pressing 3, for Mark's speed dial number. After a few rings at a nail biting pace, he answers.

"Hello?"

You lock your bedroom door and sit with your back to it.

"Someone's outside my apartment."

"What? You sure?"

"Of course I'm fucking sure! He was outside my window. Jesus, Mark, please get here."

"Alright alright, I'm on my way. Call the police too, just to be safe. Make sure your doors are locked."

"Okay. Mark?"

"Yes?"

"Mark? Hurry. Please."

You hang up and clutch the phone to your chest. You debate sprinting to the kitchen for the knife but you can't move. The idea that you may not have locked your front door haunts the back of your mind.

Time is meaningless and empty as you sit. However long it's been, you hear a pounding on your front door. Your bones are solid concrete and don't allow you to move. Eventually, the banging stops.

Then, a face at your window. You scream.

"Y/n!"

It's a muffled sound for the glass but you know the voice isn't the one you fear. Mark's outside. You scramble up, throw open your bedroom door, and unlock the front door. Mark's hands find your shoulders as you hyperventilate.

"Oh my god, Mark."

You're crying. You're sobbing.

"You're alright. You're safe."

No, you were not alright or safe. He had been outside your window. He knows where you live.

A pained sound escapes you and you clutch onto Mark's jacket before falling into him. If you had your wits about you, embarrassment for relying on him so vulnerably would seize you. But instead he guides you inside, closing the door behind you, as you shake with your sobs. He sits you on the couch, then leaves, then returns with a glass of water. But you can't hold it without spilling it everywhere.

"What did he look like?"

What do you say?

"Um...I didn't see him."

Mark's hold on your forearm, barely perceptibly, tightens.

"At all?"

You shake your head and your eyes burn.

"No."

"I was just outside your window. With the lighting available and the surrounding area, it's almost impossible to have not seen him. So, what aren't you telling me?"

You very quickly realize how close you are to him, the way his body cages you against the couch. A man easily twice your size, a cop, with a gun, is towering over you.

You stand and shake out your hands. Mark watches you.

"How long until the cops get here?"

"Any minute. I made another call on the way here."

You slow, look at him.

"How'd you get here so fast?"

His eyes narrow at you.

"I was out on another call. What's your point?"

"Nothing." You shake your head again and hold your arms, pacing back and forth. He stands from the sofa. When he does, you flinch.

At this, he freezes.

"Y/n..."

He takes another step forward. You step back.

"Okay. I understand. But you're safe. You're okay."

You scowl. "I don't fucking feel okay. Right now I'm alone and vulnerable with a cop that I know doesn't play by the book."

"What happened to you wanting me here?"

"I don't know. What happened to you making me feel safe?"

"Feel has nothing to do with it. You're safe right now; I'm doing my job."

You're both still, and you dare not to breathe until you hear the sirens tearing down the street. Mark sighs out his nose and goes through the front door to greet the police. You sit on the couch. Your whole body feels cold.

He has a point. What did happen to that trust? Did it suddenly melt away?

But you know. Your trust has snapped. It was tenuous to begin with. That's not your fault. If he was really good at his job, he should've clocked it by now. You're a textbook case.

Other police come in to get your statements. Someone suggests that Hoffman stay the night, or that you get taken to a safe house, but you insist upon neither. You'd really hate to have a repeat of earlier, but you can't stand to leave right now, nor are you totally comfortable with Hoffman in the house with you. They all decide to have a couple officers post up outside for the remainder of the evening.

"Well," Hoffman huffs at the door. "Let me know if you need anything else. Though I doubt you will."

A small drip of guilt tugs at your gut but you wave it away. You're so tired.

"Right," you say, tapping on the doorframe.

"Just remember. I've done nothing but help you. And I don't appreciate you all but making accusations against me."

Danger pricks at the back of your neck. "You're not making a great care for yourself right now."

Mark inhales, stiffens, then relaxes as though he's made up his mind about something.

"Right. Well, get some sleep. Maybe close your curtains."

You slam the door behind him and lock it. You return to your room and cuddle up into bed, but despite your exhaustion, you can't sleep. And even though you can't think about Hoffman, you take his advice about the curtains. But you can't turn away from the window either. So you stare at the ceiling. Think about tomorrow. You know you'll be called into the station. You know you'll have to face Hoffman.

You can't quite get a read on him. Only hours ago were you having a genuine connection with him. He responded immediately to your call and came to your side. And yet...

He's an intense man; there's no denying it. But if you can't get a grip on it, you'll drown under its weight.

So is it him? Or is it your own mind betraying you? Sabotaging your connection with another man, even as an acquaintance?

Before you know it, the sun has come up. You get a shower and dress as normal. You eat breakfast. You take the call to the station as normal. You leave your apartment, heart sinking when Hoffman's car is absent, and you try to walk to the main road for a cab as normal. But nothing about this is normal because he's seen you and you've seen him.

And you're beginning to think you'll never have a normal day again.

#mark hoffman #saw fanfic #mark hoffman x reader #angst #fanfiction

[w1nters0ldier20]

I’ll give up everything just to find you.

Stucky fic🤍

A/N : this is my first fic so if its bad im srry😭

Warnings — angst, happy ending, language, a slur(I CAN SAY),

Steve was panicking, shaking and every scared action you could possibly imagine. Bucky, his bucky had just got shot and taken by HYDRA. Steve had screamed “NO!” As he was forcefully taken back to the hellhole he had just escaped. But steve didn’t give up he started to chase the car down, but it was too late and too fast. He fell to his knees and sobbed.

Natasha walked over”steve..” steve shushed her”i don’t wanna hear it” he said in choked out sobs, “we’ll find him steve, come on back to the jet and lets get you healed.” Natasha replied and steve wobbled back to the jet crying into Natasha. “it’s my fault”he says in muffled sobs. “No, no steve it isn’t, its gonna be ok we’re going to find him” she says emphasizing the word going.

—

Bucky’s POV:

He woke up in a panic, breathing heavily as he slowly came back to reality realizing where he was. His mind overwhelmed with thoughts “nonono please no” “is steve ok?” “Is everybody captured” “fuck not again please..” he cried silently as these thoughts rushed over him. “If it isn’t the winter soldier.. back to reclaim your place?” The HYDRA agent spat. “First of all, im not the winter soldier anymore. I’ve changed, moved on, and hell i even found a fucking boyfriend. Secondly you forced me to be here you asshole.” Bucky spat back as the HYDRA agent smirked

“Still feisty aren’t ya?good you need a little fire to ignite the soldier”the agent chuckled as Bucky was paralyzed in fear. “Oh steve.. please please find me”

Steves POV:

Nonstop work. “Gotta find him, gotta find my buck”his mind screamed as he tried to find every HYRDA location. 2 days, 2 fucking days since Bucky was shot and captured and it had been all his fault. He was in sobs and practically murdered with guilt. Tony walks in to see him sobbing trying to find clues to as where Bucky went. “Hey cap.. it’s 4am, get some rest i’ll continue for now until you wake up.”tony says sadly”you’ve been at this nonstop let me help.”he trys to smile. “Thanks tony, but you really dont have too, i got this.” He says, his voice husky and barely there since the screaming and crying. Even so he fakes a smile.“Fine, if you don’t want to leave me to it lemme help cap.”tony sits down and starts to help pinpoint locations”

—

Buckys POV:

“Ready to comply?” The HYDRA agent says with a clenched jaw. “Nope.” Bucky chuckles emphasizing the p. The agent punches him again, “say no again see what happens faggot.” He scoffs at Bucky as bucky spits out blood.

The agent leaves the room and Bucky’s mine rushes over thoughts of steve and their last conversation.

“Lost your game buck?” Steve laughs playfully at him.”you wish Stevie” as buck throws a snowball at steve but misses again.”oh you have.”steve throws a snowball and hits Bucky in the chest.” Oh im so getting you back for that doll”he smirks

He would do anything to go back to that right now.

—

Steves POV:

“Oh my god tony, we did it” he sobs, “thank you. Thank you so much” he cries happily”im going now, i cant wait till morning.” He sniffles as tony snaps back”woah slow your roll you need to sleep first and eat AND get ahold of yourself before you go sweetheart” he looks at steve concerned, “ill eat and drink but im not sleeping till i see my Bucky again.” So tony takes that and makes him waffles and gives him water.”here we come Bucky..” his mind races with happy thoughts of getting him back

“So when can we go?” Steve says as he finishes his meal, all the avengers awake and ready to go get Bucky away from those stupid HYDRA agents. “Now i guess, right guys?” Natasha says trying to boost the mood. “Alright lets go”clint says smiling softly

—

Buckys POV:

“Your fuckin dead, you hear me? dead.” As he slaps bucky another time. His face is full of bruces and cuts. 10 minutes ago, atleast he thought it was ten minutes ago, Bucky spit 3 times on the hydra agent and now he’s taking his anger out on him, he swears hes gonna pass out or die or anything. “Steve..” he says before passing out.

—

Steves POV:

They are trying to sneak around the agents of HYDRA, “goddamn they have this place well guarded.. gotta hand it to the bastards” tony states,”shame we have to kick they’re ass!” Steve says before running out dodging bullets left and right beating them up fiercely with his fists, feet & his sheild

“Well fuck.” Natasha curses before running out to help him, “always running on impulse” she mutters under her breath laughing. “Im going in.” Steve states on the comms

“Bucky, oh Bucky where are you..” he whispered as hydra agents bombarded him with bullets(of course his shield blocked them). Steve starts to beat them off one by one, asking “wheres bucky?” To all of them, which none answered as they just replied”hail HYDRA”as they died

He runs until he sees a cell, and he sees.. bucky. Bloody, bruised and hopefully asleep or passed out. Steve runs inside breaking down the cell, that wakes bucky up.” Please sir no more..” he wakes up realizing its steve, “oh my god doll” he says as a tears slide down his face”i got you buck im here baby, can you walk?” Steve says as he breaks the refinements off him. “I think..” bucky wobbles but eventually starts to walk with steve, “need a gun?”steve chuckles as Bucky nods. Steve hands him a gun as they start beating the shit out of agents.

“Fuckkk yea! Revenge bitches!” Bucky screams as he shoots them. “Lets get out of here buck.” As they start to run to the jet. “We’re in the jet, make your way back” steve says to the comms.

—

Bucky’s POV:

“I missed you Stevie..” he purrs in Steve’s ear and kisses him, steve kisses him back and giggles, “how did you.. prevent the winter soldier thing you know?” He asks, “oh its not in “programming” anymore i guess” Bucky replies, “no more questions though just shut up and kiss me before they get back” he smiles and kisses him and it turns into a make out session “fuck Bucky..”steve whimpers, as if the worst timing the rest of the avengers start to come into the jet. “Get a room you animals, it hasn’t even been 5 minutes and you to are getting down dirty in the jet” tony remarks scoffing, “yea whatever grandpa” bucky snorts and kisses steve one more time, “oh yea, back of the jet now we need to clean these up” as he eyes the bruises on his face.“Finee” bucky sighs and walks to the back of the jet,

Oh how happy he was to be home.

—

A/n : AHHH I FEEL LIKE THIS IS A GOOD LENGTHED FIC?? For a first timee pls lmk if you like it!! :3 the title was based off an evanescene song!! Love her songs sm❤️also pls lmk how to see a word count😭 i cannot find it

#steve rogers #the winter soldier #bucky barnes #captain america #tony stark #natasha romanoff #clint barton #marvel #stucky #steve rogers fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction

[ravenwitch45]

I thought of this because Blitzø and I both love horses and love the movie Spirit. So the mustang that they studied while animating the horse is at a ranch right now and they actually changed his name to Spirit.

Can I request Y/N surprising Blitzø on his birthday by having them both put on human disguises so they can meet the real Spirit?

Oh you cannot get more Horse Stan then this man, and with this specific horse? Your pratically gonna smother him with everything he loves all in a day, I'll do my best with this!

Blitzo's SO surprising him by taking him to see the real Spirit on his birthday

Blitzo ain't the kind to be all humble about his birthday of course, He says it's coming up a lot around the office, Stolas, and of course you, but he honestly doesn't expect much.

If people remember and wish him a happy one, that's all it takes to satisfy him,

Any gift, parties, or surprises are something he appreciates extremely tho, especially if feel very FOR him if you know what I mean.

So when you find out about the whole situation with Spirit, you know you have to surprise him with it. You talk to Stolas and make sure to master the human disguise spell to make sure to avoid any problems and you plot on how to make it perfect.

He gives everyone the day off, cause working on his birthday is something he'd totally not do. So you wake up finding him looking at his phone, smiling to himself as he sees the happy birthday messages from M&M and Stolas, not knowing your awake yet you sneak up on him and give him a kiss.

"Happy Birthday Handsome, I have a surprise for you~" To which he smirks at first, before raising a brow, questioning what, only getting that'll have to wait til after breakfast.

As if on cue, Loona comes in having cooked up breakfeast in bed for her dad, actually calling him that as she awkwardly wishes him a happy birthday, getting a hug as he near cries tears of joy at that. Serving well to stop him from questioning what you have planned

After breakfast you grab the grimoire, which only confuses him more, but you just stay quiet as you pull him through a portal and put on the disguises. You ruffling up his new hair, saying you'll miss his true form for the moment but that this will be worth it.

He starts to question you again before he recognizes your at a ranch, luckily it's the early morning and no one is working yet so noone to stop him from bursting in and saying hi to all the horses. You just smiling at how cute he is when he get's like this.

You tell him that you still need to keep going for the surprise, which makes him pout "But there all so cute how can I leave them!?"But you drag him along as he pouts more.

Eventually you reach where you need, Him rushing up to the Mustang, "Hey! This guy looks like Spirit from the movie!" He says looking up at the horse like it's the most beautiful thing in the world. You responding "That kinda is Spirit from the movie." The Assassin's jaw drops before he laughs a little "Your so fuckin with me! It just reminded me of it." You then explain that your not, explaining that this was the horse that was an animation reference for the very movie, you've watched over and over with him, and that the horse he's smothering with love is actually named Spirit.

And that... just makes him go silent for a second before hugging you, putting his head on your shoulder as he wraps his tail around you, simply saying a tender thank you, hiding that he's crying at having someone who loves him for all his oddities and interests.

You simply say he's welcome before suggesting you find some feed since you know he loves to feed horses, so you do and you two go around with him getting every horse in the ranch to lick out of his hands which he laughs at every time.

When you guys get back to Spirit, he awkwardly thanks the horse for in a way inspiring him and giving him so much joy throughout the years. He tries to whisper it but you hear him, not teasing him for it tho.

You finish up feeding all the horses and he says goodbye with a kiss to each before you walk out, him hugging you again and thanking you for the great surprise, a great start to his Bday, you kissing him and promising that you have a few other ideas to make the rest great too, your gonna spoil him so bad, and you'll have help<3

I Actually had a lot of fun with this, hope I did this good, still getting used to writing this stuff, but hey, Blitz is one of my faves so happy to spoil him.

#ask reply #helluva boss #blitzo #blitzo x reader #helluva boss x reader #x reader #helluva boss headcanons

[pascalsknee]

Hurry

hey, hello, hi. This is my first time posting... I was so inspired by other writers on here bc wow y’all are massively talented. theres something about Joel that couldn’t keep me from writing him hehe

please be gentle on me haha

featuring: no outbreak Joel x afab reader

warnings: 18+, MDNI!

summary: porn with like a lil plot? fingering, cursing

“J-joel…. Joel please.” You begged him.

“Oh sugar,” he hummed, his eyes never leaving from between your legs. “I told you I was gonna take my time with you. Give you exactly what you deserve.” His voice rasped out.

His left arm firmly held your thighs up and out, making sure you stayed nice and open for him. His fingers on his right hand were splayed on your thigh, his large thumb softly rubbing back and forth on your throbbing clit.

Although it felt amazing, it wasn’t nearly enough.

“I need….” You trailed off. What did you need? Because ever since you met the man, this is exactly what you thought you needed. Having him in your personal space, invading your senses with his addicting smell. Just touching you.

Unfortunately, you were greedy.

For what felt like the first time tonight, his eyes met yours. The normal chocolate brown seemingly transformed into pitch black orbs from his lust for you. “What do you need baby?” he questioned. “I thought I was makin’ you feel good.”

He sure as shit was and he knew it based on the smirk on his gorgeous face.

Suddenly the presence of his thumb on your clit disappeared. Before you could protest, you felt one of his long fingers probing your entrance. “We don’t have much time baby," he grunted. "Gonna need you to be a good girl for me, okay?"

"Oh.... oh." Your eyes rolled back as he curled the long digit upwards. He was reaching uncharted territory that you could never reach on your own.

You heard the old pipes upstairs finally shut off. The sound bringing you back to reality where you remembered your mother was upstairs, showering after a long day at work before joining you and Joel for your Friday movie night.

Joel... the neighbor she had been 'seeing' for the last two months.

It wasn't as if they had gone on dates, or fooled around. He was just a friendly guy who lived next door trying to fill his free time now that his daughter, Sarah, was a teenager and only wanted to hang out with her friends.

Enter in the newly moved in single mom of a college aged daughter, who mistook his polite greetings from his driveway every morning as flirting.

You and your mom didn't have a lot in common. But damn did you both agree that Joel was one of the best looking dads on the block.

"Joel we have to stop." you whined.

"Not until you give me what I want, sweet girl." Joel slid another finger in, continuing with curling them upwards until he found what he was looking for. The sound of your slick music to his filthy ears. "You hear that baby? She's talkin' to me."

You reached down and gripped his wrist, trying to get him to stop. The action in itself half-assed as you felt the liquid heat spreading in your lower belly.

"Move your fuckin' hand." He growled, speeding up his fingers as he listened to your mom open the bathroom door and walk into her room.

It would only be a matter of minutes before she would get dressed and the stairs would creak as she descended.

You knew that he wouldn't stop until you came on his fingers or until he heard your mom at the base of the staircase. So you tried to clear your mind and focus on the knot in your belly, silently praying that he'd get you there quickly.

Joel muttered something you couldn't make out before his left hand slid up and wrapped around your throat. He might have applied light pressure, but it was enough for you to feel it. "Come." he demanded.

Finally you tumble over the edge. He thankfully has the mind to move his hand from your throat to covering your mouth just as you let out a throaty moan.

"Good fuckin' girl" he growls, sliding his fingers out of you while you quake on the counter. He places light kisses to your forehead and cheeks while he waits for you to come down from your high.

Unfortunately you can't stay that way as you hear your mom coming down the steps saying something about popcorn and whatever else.

"Shit," you hiss and push him back so you can hop down. Joel reaches down and pulls up your sleep shorts while you fix your hair, hoping you don't look as wrecked as you feel.

Just in time your mom rounds the corner. "Who's ready for Legally Blonde?!"

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller smut #tlou fic