#I hope this hasn’t already been done lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

runa-falls · 9 months

Note

Omfg I just had an amazing idea (I hope this hasn’t been done before or I’ll look stupid LMAO)

In ATSV, there’s that scene where Miguel Molly rocks miles into that train or whatever, and says that he’s been left to clean up his mess yeah? And no one ever acknowledges how much he’s really doing to keep everything together :((

Reader who appreciates everything that Miguel does for the multiverse in more ways than one. Fluff/smut porn with a little bit of plot for the distinguished gentlemen/ladies/people (I also just like longer fics lol)

Plz I’ll literally drop to my knees and beg you’re my savior 🙏🙏🙏

GN reader plzz ❤️❤️ily

pairing: miguel o'hara x gn!reader

cw: explicit (18+), angst, nipple play, comfort head, face fucking, rough handling, choking, cum eating.

wc: 2.5k

a/n: thanks for sending this in nonnie! i love angst/comfort :)) wasn't sure if you were ok with a reader who has female genitalia so i just wrote non-penetrative stuff...

thank you @campingwiththecharmings for reading this over <3 LOVE YOU BAE

masterlist

sometimes miguel comes home in silence.

he won't announce himself as he enters the front door or walk into every room to find and greet you with a tired smile and kiss like he usually does.

you won't even realize he's home until large arms suddenly wrap around you to pull you close late at night. Until he's guiding you into bed, holding your body so tight that you can't get away. you can't leave him.

sometimes he doesn't come back at all.

sometimes you have to sleep alone, huddling your face into his pillow, reminding yourself how capable he is -- that he's going to be okay. that he'll be back soon.

miguel is sweet. too sweet for his own good.

he works hard to make his life with you as normal as possible. he does it for you, but also for that part of him that craves domesticity.

the part that remembers having a family, a house in the suburbs, and a regular routine of waking up, eating, working, and sleeping.

he tries to keep everything bad -- all his stress, frustrations, anger, and fears -- at work. he never wants to bring it home to you. never wants you to have to hold the weight of his struggles on your shoulders.

so when he starts to lose his grip, he hides away.

and when he can't hold on any longer, he doesn't come home at all.

---

today, miguel came back quiet but not silent.

he opened the front door swiftly, kicking it shut behind him before making a beeline to the kitchen and grabbing a drink.

even if you weren't already downstairs, you'd be able to hear him.

he immediately hid away to the back porch, still in his suit, sitting on a bench that he put together when you first bought the house. his glove-covered hands clutch a cool beer that's already sweating from the balmy summer air.

you watch from the living room, perched on the couch, as he sits there in silence, barely moving a muscle.

he completely missed you when he walked in, too distracted by the mound of thoughts rushing through his mind.

this must be where he goes when he doesn't want to worry you. when he wants to be home but not present.

his dull crimson eyes drift shut as he lets the stress of the day roll off of him in waves, releasing the tension from his shoulders and the pinch at the middle of his eyebrows.

he tilts his head back until it bumps against the back wall of the house, letting out a sigh as he's supported from falling back.

slowly shutting your laptop and setting it to the side, you choose to just stare out the window and observe him as he watches the world move around him.

ever since you've known him, the fate of the multiverse has weighed on his shoulders and no matter how much he tries, how much he's done, it just keeps going. it's a never-ending cycle of protecting, saving, and destroying.

it's not healthy, but where would you be without him? where would anyone be?

there's an unspoken rule in your relationship to never talk about these occasional scenes of silence because you both know that you'd risk breaking the illusion -- the faux life where he can hang up his suit at the front door and come home to dinner with his partner.

like how it was before. how it could've been.

your shared temporary happiness, or sporadic bouts of happiness, was never meant to last long in the first place.

so why ruin something that can only be yours for a few more moments?

by the time he gets up from the old bench, the sun is setting, and his beer is long drained, bottle dangling prettily from his long fingers.

you don't even realize the hours of silence you've shared with him through the glass window until you hear the back door squeak open.

you look up and meet his eyes as he stands there frozen. he wasn't expecting you to be there. to see what you saw.

"...have you been there the whole time?" the door clicks shut behind him, but he stays put. you nod sheepishly, feeling like you've been caught doing something illegal. "i-i'm sorry i didn't say hi...i was distracted."

"no, it's ok. i was just answering emails--" you look down at your laptop, the one you shut off a few hours ago, "--until i decided to rest my eyes."

you aren't a very good liar, but it doesn't seem to matter. miguel hums absently, lost in his thoughts, placing his empty beer bottle on a table nearby. his movements are slower than usual when he shuffles closer to the couch.

"are you okay, honey?" you put your computer on the coffee table and turn toward him.

his eyes shut and he takes a deep breath, one hand holding onto the back of the couch for support. that answers the question for you.

you should've known not to ask that question. it never leads anywhere good. he'll either lie with a flat 'fine' or --

"I'm...tired." he finally says, a mere whisper like he doesn't want to admit it. you tilt your head, finally taking in his slouched shoulders and exhausted eyes.

of course, he's tired. he should be tired.

"come 'ere," you stretch out your arms, gesturing him to sit next to you. he walks over, plopping himself right against you, nearly sitting on you, but you don't mind. you wrap your arms around his broad shoulder, feeling him melt at your comforting touch.

it feels so good to have him in your arms again, to feel his unnatural warmth permeate through his super-suit. though you wake up in each other's arms every morning, you still crave his touch and his tendency to lean his whole weight against you like a lazy housecat.

"you've been working so hard, miguel..." he nods silently against your shoulder, nuzzling his head further into your space.

"someone has to..." he mutters, body already less tense than it was a few seconds ago.

"you don't have to, but you do anyway. you put your life on the line, day in, day out, protecting those who don't even know the dangers you're keeping them from."

he snorts, "you're making me sound a lot more heroic than i actually am. i'm just doing what needs to be done."

"you are heroic! you're a hero -- my hero."

his head lifts from your shoulder, "...really?"

his burgundy eyes sparkle when they meet yours, the first glimmer of energy that you've seen in him today. you smile, but you can't decide if it's a happy smile or not. on one hand you're sad. sad that he can't see how amazing he is, or how much he's done for the universe -- the multiverse.

but you're also happy that you get these moments with him. that you are at the receiving end of those sparkling eyes and hopeful looks. that he cares about your opinion that much.

"yes, really."

"you're not tired of me yet? of dating the busiest man in nueva york?"

"never." you lean into him, gently pressing your lips against his. you're suddenly giddy when he kisses back, lips moving expertly against yours. then he's smiling against you.

before you could pull back, he tugged you closer by the collar of your shirt, deepening the kiss, tongue tangling with yours. you giggle lightly when his hand slowly drifts down, fingers running over your chest and squeezing at your waist.

"thought you were tired?" you tease when you pull away. miguel is barely listening, too focused on pulling your shirt off. "miguel!"

"not right now, cariño. wanna see you." the cool air of the living room quickly wraps around you, your nipples pebbling right under his stare.

his eyes darken to a deep cherry hue as he teases you with a flick of his thumb. you whimper at how sensitive you feel, especially with how the texture of his gloves contrast with the softness of your skin, the delicate point of your bud.

"you're always so responsive for me..." he coos, "so nice, jus' letting me touch you like this." you gasp when he pinches you, goosebumps raising over the expanse of your body. his touch drifts down to the top of your pants, tan hands fiddling with the waistband teasingly.

you take a hold of his wrist before he could pull them down and he immediately stops, looking up at your face, wondering if he overstepped. you bite your lip as you build the courage to say what you want.

"wait, i-i wanna do something for you."

"what d'you mean?" miguel's hand comes up to cup your cheek, "you always do something for me, just by being by my side."

you want to fawn over his words, melt against his body while he does whatever he wants to you, but you quickly remind yourself that sometimes he needs to let go. that you should do the work and let him relax.

"please, miguel, just... let me." your hands move over the large bulge that presses against his flexible suit. you hear him sigh as you squeeze him gently. his hips buck into your hold, eager for your touch. "c-can you take it off please?"

"you mean you weren't just going to mouth over my suit until i cum?"

an intense heat flushes throughout your face at the idea. how filthy and needy that would be! you could imagine how his cock would throb under the material, how his cum would soak over the front of his crotch...

"i-i could--"

"-- i'm kidding, sweetheart." he chuckles, clicking a few buttons on his watch. his suit disappears without a warning and his muscled torso flexes under you from the sudden coolness of the room. he's wearing tight briefs underneath his suit, contouring his desperate hardness underneath.

you experimentally smooth a hand over him, watching avidly as the veins in his forearm pulse as he attempts holds himself back. you carefully tug his underwear down to reveal the wet mess that his dripping cock has made for you.

you run a finger over his sensitive tip and spread the precum that spills every time he takes a breath. he shivers at the feeling, eyes glowering as he watches you tease him. "are you just gonna stare or actually do something about it?" he growls, tired of the delicate touches and shy looks.

you don't answer him, instead, you dip down, licking softly over his shaft before shallowly suckling his tip into your mouth. he groans deeply, fingers instinctively burrowing into your hair without pushing you down.

"you're so sweet to me, baby. sucking my cock into your throat just to make me feel better..." you close your eyes as you start to take him deeper, swallowing around him until you feel the head of his cock nudge the back of your throat. "you like this don't you?"

his grip on your head tightens when you moan around him, saliva dripping messily over his lap.

"fuck!" his hips buck and it shoves him further into your throat. not expecting the harsh intrusion, you choke around him, eyes watering as you struggle to breathe through your nose. "s-sorry, you're just so hot when you drool over me."

your legs tighten as his rough voice whispers soft apologies. he sounds so needy and desperate like he's barely holding himself back from fucking your throat.

you quickly recover with a hum, hand resting against his firm torso for support as you lift yourself off of him. he lightly holds onto your arm, staring lustfully at your flushed face and slick lips as you breathe heavily on top of him.

you're suddenly shy as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, despite sitting over him topless and cock-drunk.

"you know you can fuck my face if you want..." you offer, unable to meet his eyes. he doesn't let you look away though. his rough hand holds you by the jaw, making sure you can't escape the simmering heat in his eyes.

"don't say that baby...'cause i'll actually do it." his hips start to move as you stroke him again, fucking your fist harshly until your hand starts to tingle from the wet friction.

"...i want you to."

"really?"

"you work so hard, mig. you deserve some appreciation..."

"please, cariño..." he begs, breathlessly.

you lean over him and take him back into your mouth, bobbing your head as your tongue slicks against the underside of his shaft. he doesn't hesitate when he shoves your head down, forcing you to swallow all of him down.

he feels you gag a few times before he lets go. he almost didn't though. the feeling of your whine was euphoric as it vibrated up from your throat and against your lips. you're a mess on top of him, precum and drool coating your mouth, chin, and hands.

miguel lovingly brushes some stray hairs that have fallen in front of your face behind your ear as you continue to suck on him. he starts with soft thrusts into your mouth, dragging his cock slowly over the silk touch of your tongue. you open wide, round eyes staring politely up at him as he fucks your mouth from below.

he loves having control over you -- actually, he loves it when you give him control because it means you trust him, even after seeing all sides of him, good and bad, you're still with him.

he groans at how cute you look, his huge cock stuffing your pretty mouth. his hands move to hold both sides of your head, guiding you onto him until you can fully engulf him between your lips.

he can't hold back anymore; he needs to feel your throat tighten around him as you struggle to swallow him down your throat. he watches himself disappear down your throat, how eagerly you drink him in without a complaint.

his hips snap against your mouth, filling you over and over until your jaw aches. you whimper, heavy eyes watching as he falls apart for your mouth.

"i-i'm getting close--" he warns shakily, unable to stop his frantic movements when you look at him like that. it only takes a few more thrusts before he's spilling into your mouth. he finishes deep inside of you, cock prodding the back of your throat.

you drink him in, tasting his distinct salty sweetness, listening to his delicious groans as he comes down from his high. he jerks when your soft touches start to push him towards overstimulation, moans turning desperate.

"baby, enough, please."

you release him from your mouth, lips tingly and plump.

"feel better?" you sound raspy, even with how quietly you're speaking.

"i feel amazing, mi vida." he pulls you on top of him and holds you close (though it's insanely hot with your skin pressed against his like this). you cuddle him back, smiling as he pecks your tacky neck and shoulder lazily.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara angst #2099 #spider man 2099 #atsv #miguel o'hara x gn!reader

825 notes · View notes

randombush3 · 2 months

Note

Kinda miss Fleur and Alexia bickering 🫣 can I get a request a one short of them getting into a fight

sorry I took ages to do it - I've been trying to think of a scenario. I imagine that the dutch players have had a very miserable international window lol

[...]

I slam the door behind me.

There are few things in life that cause me absolute devastation, but this week has been one of them. I’m tired, I’m angry, and, what’s worse, I’m resenting the fact that Alexia’s apartment is bright and happy.

She smiles as she emerges from the bathroom, perhaps not hearing how I entered as I used my own key.

I take it as smugness. (I want it to be smug.)

“Hola, mi amor,” she says with caution, heading over to greet me after not seeing much of each other for the best part of a week. She must sense the tension because her smile dampens, victorious glow from winning fucking everything fading away.

“Hey,” I mutter, tone clipped and curt and dripping with resentment. Alexia approaches, concern beginning to make her frown, reaching out gently to touch my arm.

I jerk it away from her.

For the briefest of moments, I feel a long-dead emotion: hatred. I loathe Spain’s success, am jealous of it, and it is not fair that it comes at my expense. Not when we are together, not when we are no longer enemies.

It was easy to play against Alexia when I was her rival. I could tackle her freely and let my teammates foul her when she was too good to beat, able to watch on without remorse. Seeing her hit the grass brought about a vindictive, satisfied feeling, and I relished in it.

Being her girlfriend is a lot harder, and it has been a while since I have had to play on a different team to her. It has been a while since we lost to Spain, but, just like they did in August, they have crushed our dreams once more.

My dreams.

The Olympics are more special to me than any other tournament, and will continue to be until the games are no longer valued in women’s football. They are my family’s history, the gateway into my relationship with my mum, and they are now out of my reach.

I huff out a breath, struggling to contain my emotions. “We lost twice so we won’t be going.” I tell her what she already knows but she does not rub it in. “Jaimie is going to qualify.”

Alexia looks at me, piercing eyes seeing through the floodgates I have shut. She must realise that I have cried on the plane – maybe even that I hadn’t stopped crying since we played Germany, only reining it all in as I made my way up the stairs to her place.

“What do you want, Alexia?” I snap as she attempts to touch me again, blinking myself back into reality and hoping I don’t start to cry.

Clearly, my wounds have not been nursed enough.

Alexia recoils, hurt flashing across her features before she schools them into something harder. Her jaw clenches. Maybe she thinks I am being immature. “What’s wrong with you, Fleur?” she asks, her voice tinged with frustration. “I know you're upset….”

“Oh, like you care,” I retort, bristling at her words. “You seemed happy to run around with Jenni, celebrating your socks off!”

Her eyes narrow, patience wearing thin. “Excuse me?” She doesn’t sound convinced that I am the real Fleur de Voss, looking me up and down to check I haven’t been replaced with someone else.

“You clearly have let it get to you. Have you forgotten what it’s like to lose?”

“Oh, of course,” she scoffs, “because that has never happened to me before. I was inconsolable after we lost the Champions League final; I didn’t come out of my room for–”

“Please, spare me the sob story.” I roll my eyes. “You’re on top of the world right now, Ale. Spain wins everything and you keep adding to your list of victories, crushing anyone who dares to get in your way. And the worst part is, you don’t even play! You don’t even play, and you act like you have done it single-handedly, with the biggest grin on your face–”

“Do you think I enjoy seeing you in pain?” She trembles with anger. She shouts, and she hasn’t meant to be the first to do that because she instantly steps back in regret. I may have flinched at the shock of her volume, but now I square my shoulders, daring her to fix my heartbreak. “Do you think it didn’t take all my willpower to not go over to you, to not comfort you, or hug you, or try to make you feel better? Do you think I wasn’t trying to get to you as soon as I could? Or that, in Sevilla, I didn’t look at flights to Germany so that you wouldn’t have to spend the night alone?” She steps towards me. “I know how much going to Paris meant to you, to your family. Believe me, I heard what your mother said to you – even if my English isn’t that good.”

“Your English is fine,” I mutter, instinctively destroying her stupid insecurity.

“Fleur, how could you think I take pleasure in your losses? You know me better than that.”

I shake my head, unable to quell the storm of emotions raging inside of me. “I feel like I don’t know anything right now,” I admit, hardly audible.

I was going to the Olympics. I was sure of it.

Jaimie and I were going together, and, although Mum competed for a different flag, we were going to follow in her footsteps; continuing her legacy because she promised me I would be good enough to do that. She promised us both, time and time again.

She may have left us, but she was the one who wrangled me a spot in the Australian youth teams. She started my international career for me, and I was going to repay her by showing her it was worth it.

What is it worth now?

“All I know is that I’m tired of feeling like my best isn’t good enough, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep pretending everything’s okay.”

Suddenly, this is about more than just losing the Nations League and not qualifying for the Olympics. This is the fallout of the Ballon d’Or, and we both know it. Alexia seems to have seen this coming.

“I’m sorry for not being there when you needed me,” she begins, though guilt courses through me because I know it would have been asking the impossible of her, “but I’m here now.”

#woso #randombush3 #woso fanfics #woso imagines #barca femeni #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader

179 notes · View notes

tkaulitzlvr · 6 months

Text

THE WRONG WAY - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: tom hasn’t been paying you enough attention lately, and, when you finally snap, he can’t understand where you are coming from, until you reach your breaking point. can the issues between you and him be resolved?

content: angst

a/n: pulled this out of my ass lol, i had to rush it because i’m in the middle of another req but it’s nowhere near done after like three hours of writing so i’ll have to finish and post it tomorrow. sorry if there are mistakes, i only proofread veryyy briefly cause i’m so tired rn😭 hope this is okay tho!!

"you don't love me."

i voice the harsh words to the silent room, clearly and with every sense of belief behind my statement. to my discomfort, saying it out loud does not make me feel any more at ease, in fact seeing the way tom’s entire body breaks for a second, processing what i had just said, before trying to cover the hurt on his face up, only suffocates me even more. the lump in my throat only gets bigger, the tension in the air thickening by the second.

"wow." he begins, shaking his head, trying to wrap his head around how i could even come to that conclusion. "that’s an awful accusation." he glances at me, his eyes already glossy, giving me enough of an idea on how much i have hurt him by uttering those four words. however i stick to it, figuring that it is too late to back out now. within me, behind all the anger, all the upset, i feel that it is true. i sense that he no longer feels the same way he did when he met me, all those years ago, the love within his eyes slowly diminishing until it is now long gone.

"and also." he speaks, leaning forward and looking directly into my eyes, staying in his position spread on the end of the other couch. "it's not true. you know it isn't."

the pressure of his gaze leaves me unable to hold eye contact with him, looking away sheepishly into my lap, hoping that somehow the ground could swallow me up. i grit my teeth, locking my jaw in anger, feeling no reassurance from his quick denial of my statement. so i decide to challenge him, standing my ground despite the nausea only growing within me. though his voice seems somewhat certain, i refuse to believe that i am making it up, that it is all in my head. "do i though tom?"

my eyes meet his, except the ones looking into me are foreign. they are angry, a glint of hostility present within them that i had not yet witnessed, this change taking me aback, yet i refuse to look away. he is sad. those eyes, past the resentment in them, i see pain. i see sorrow. i have upset him, far beyond what he intends to let out. he is usually strong, and perhaps right now he thinks that he is keeping this up, yet i can read him like a book, the way his left brow furrows, creating a crease along his forehead, the way his eyes cannot focus on one thing, darting around the room, i can see that he is struggling. and whilst part of me hurts with him, hating to put him through any sort of distress, i need it right now. because i am tired of feeling unloved and unappreciated - regardless of whether tom intends to make me feel this way or not.

he shakes his head, scoffing slightly in disbelief, letting out a shaky sigh, before speaking up, his voice loud, in contrast to the silent room. "what, so i've been lying every single time i’ve told you that i love you, over the past six years that we've been together? mind you, i say that every day, without fail."

i stay silent, my eyes becoming glossy as they quickly tear away from his. he takes my silence as a cue to continue, my sudden belief that he does not love me angering him as he desperately seeks to remind me of every reason why i am in the wrong. "don't i do everything for you? make sure that you're always safe, give you my everything-"

"give me your money, you mean." i reply, cutting him off. i don’t want to seem ungrateful - i appreciate the way tom would spend any amount of money on me if it made me happy. i am thankful for the house he has given me, the vacations he takes me on, the things he buys me, but those things are not the reasons why i fell in love with him. i fell for tom kaulitz. not his money, not his fame, not his profession. i fell for who he is, for him as a person, whether he is rich or poor, yet it feels that day by day i lose a small part of that. i have always understood that his job means that he will be away a lot, but it is hard to be in a relationship with someone that can't always be there, only their fortunes can.

"i’m grateful for what you do for me, really i am, but i'd much rather have time with you than the latest gucci bag, or the newest chanel perfume. if it meant that i would have to live with nothing for the rest of my life, i would do it. don't you understand? i want you - not your money tom! i don't need you to apologise with gifts when i don’t see you all day, i just...i need you." i am desperate, craving for him to hear me out, to understand that it is him that i need, but the way he looks at me in confusion shows me that i am not going to achieve that.

"i thought you liked the things i buy for you. have you been lying?" he completely ignores the point that i have been trying to make, this only fuelling the frustration within me as i exhale shakily, quickly grasping onto the opportunity to argue my point once again.

"i do but that's not the point tom! i like them because i feel like it's all i get from you!" my voice is raising, something which i did not want to happen. shouting never solves the problem, however right now i am far too angry to care. "i just want some of your time, to feel like you actually care! when you're with me, you're here physically, but your mind is always elsewhere. i just miss you. i need to you be mine again, i-"

"look, i’m sorry okay?" he begins, harshly cutting me off and matching the volume in my voice. "i'm sorry that my job is more demanding than others, i’m sorry that it needs a lot of my attention, but i told you this from the beginning. my career is a big part of who i am and things aren't always easy. they get hard, they get tough, but-"

"that's my problem! when things get hard for you, i don't fucking know about it! because you shut me out, every. single. time. i'm your girlfriend, tom. i want to know about your life, i want to help you, but you always run away from me! you spoil me with gifts and money to compensate for every fucking time you leave me in the dark! i don't want it anymore. i just want you to communicate!" i move from the couch, walking to the middle of the room and standing a few feet away from him. his eyes are glued to me, watching my every step, and he is listening to me this time. "am i such a headache to be around, that you can't talk to me? that you can't deal with spending time with me, so instead you spend your money to try and shut me up, because you have so much that no matter what you buy, it doesn't affect you?"

"don't." he voices shakily as i stare into his eyes, his expression more wounded than ever. my words stab into him, hitting him harder than i had anticipated. his fists clench against his thighs, holding every ounce of frustration. though we have argued in the past, i have never seen him this upset, regardless of whether he intends to show it visibly or not. "you know that i don't think of you that way, even for a second. so stop."

"you can't blame me for thinking it tom." i shrug. "you leave me out of everything, i have no idea what's going on in your life anymore-"

“because i'm trying to fucking protect you!" he interrupts, raising his voice once again. his hand slams against the arm of the couch, the sudden contact causing me to wince slightly. "i'm sorry if you feel like i'm hiding things from you. but i know parts of my life would just stress you out and hurt you. don't you get that? i'm trying to save you from the pain-"

"i want the fucking pain!" i fire back. "we are supposed to be in a relationship. do you know what that means? i want to suffer with you. i would choose that, a million times over, if it meant that i could be with you for another day. i want every part of you, the sad, the happy, the angry, i want it all. can't you see that i need you? i hate being left in the dark. i absolutely fucking hate it.”

my voice pierces through his ears, diminishing the tense silence as tom gulps, clenching his jaw and leaning forwards, pinching his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. the rash and quick responses don’t allow me time to calm down, my eyes becoming glossy with tears, the salty liquid staining my cheeks before i can try to hold them back, my weakness just as evident as tom’s. the pain, the upset, the lack of affection that have been feeling all spills out, reeling outwards from within me as i let it out, no longer attempting to hold back.

he looks up, his face softening as he takes in my hurt expression. he has never seen me like this, so broken, and the fact that he is the cause of this pains him even more, his mind coming to the slow realisation that it is up to him to fix this. although he doesn’t fully understand how i could possibly believe that he does not love me, he wants to try, to try and see from my eyes. he lets out a shaky sigh, swallowing nervously before looking into my eyes.

"i would rather feel the sadness, suffer with you." i begin, my voice small as the tears quickly take away my physical strength. "i would do absolutely anything if it means that you will love me, that you will do it with me, tom."

"i don't live a normal life, and i just want to keep you away from the crazy things." he speaks slowly, trying to reason with me, refusing to turn his gaze away from mine. "some people want to hurt me, and i would never forgive myself if someone ever did anything to harm you."

i try to wipe my tears and calm my breathing, wrapping my arms around my small frame in an attempt to comfort myself, quickly becoming overwhelmed with the situation. but my mind acknowledges tom’s change in tone. not only is he more gentle and calm, he also seems sorry, like he now recognises where he went wrong.

"what do you want me to do?" he whispers, defeated as his tired eyes meet mine. he is no longer angry. he is desperate, longing to resolve this. "i'll do anything. i- i can't lose you. you're my world, schatz, and i'm sorry if i haven't shown it, but you are everything to me."

though there are millions of things i could say, i stay silent, standing still across the room. my heart clenches painfully, hurting at the sight of him so distraught, as his mind considers the dreaded idea of what losing me would be like. his world is crumbling before him, the one thing he seeks to protect seeming to slip through his fingers. i have never seen him like this, so vulnerable, so desperate, and whilst it comforts me to know that he is slowly letting down the walls that have prevented me from truly being with him, it saddens me to see him in such a distraught state.

"all i've ever wanted is to keep you safe. to keep you happy, liebe, because if you're happy then so am i. but you deserve more than this." he points to himself angrily, letting out a shaky sigh. "more than this fucking idiot, who doesn't even know how to love. i’m so sorry if i've done it the wrong way and made you feel like i don't care. because you shouldn't for a second think that i don't love you."

everything that i have been craving to see is happening in front of me. i have longed to see him open up, to break down the barriers that separate us both physically and mentally. i don’t want him to be strong all the time, and it hurts that he feels he has to be. the tears fall from my bloodshot eyes once again - this time out of sadness for him. i hurt with him, hating to see him so upset, but i understand his pain, his anger, and i feel every emotion along with him. for the first time in forever, i feel connected with him.

after a few moments of silence, he stands up, slowly walking towards me. i refuse to meet his gaze, fearing that i will break down once again i realise how hurt he truly is, and looking into his eyes will certainly display every emotion amongst his beautiful features. his hand brushes tenderly against my cheek, wiping a fresh tear that had fallen. he reaches towards my chin, using his pointer finger to angle my face upwards so it meets with his eyes. he towers over me, taking in the sorrow etched upon my face, before tucking the loose strands of hair behind my ears, gently caressing my cheek with his lips slightly parted, shaky breaths escaping from them.

"please, look at me." he whispers, gazing longingly into my eyes. i comply, shifting my own eyes to the deep brown ones in front of me. they are full of adoration, and i feel the man that i fell in love with slowly coming back to me. "i love you, so so much, please believe me schatz. you are the most important person in my life, and i am so sorry that i've made you feel the opposite way." he chokes up, his voice shaky as i can tell he is on the verge of tears.

i listen to him, allowing every word to sink in, as it is now no longer hard to trust what he says. i feel what i have been desperate to - love. i feel truly appreciated, like i am able to confide in him like i once could. though frustrated it took the both of us to get to this state to make him speak his mind, i appreciate him opening up, his apology making up for the lost time. there is no shame in being fragile, and through his entire conversation, we have both learned this, a new found appreciation for each other gained as i feel safe again.

"don't feel like you have to keep things to yourself. i’m your girlfriend, i'm supposed to be here for you, and i'll gladly do it, but you have to talk to me." i respond, lacing my hand with his. a soft smile spreads across his face, contrasting with his bloodshot eyes whilst he slowly nods.

"i hear you. i’m so sorry baby. i love you." he whispers, pulling me into a tight hug as his hands lace together around my waist. he lets out a sob onto my shoulder, my heart breaking at the sound. he clutches onto me tighter as if i may slip away, my own eyes tearing up once again. it has been a while since i felt like this. i feel loved, and it is all that i have ever wanted from the start.

he slowly pulls away, resting his forehead against mine and looking into my eyes through his eyelashes. after a few seconds, he leans inwards, until his lips touch mine. the kiss is gentle, carrying every promise to love and cherish me like he has failed to do, and i gladly accept it, kissing back quickly and wrapping my arms around his neck. he pulls away, planting a few pecks on my lips once again, his breath shaky as the remnants of tears stick to his cheeks. i slowly wipe them away, not breaking eye contact as i do so, gently caressing the soft skin until any trace of sadness is lost within our newfound love for each other.

a soft smile graces his lips, failing to wither as he kisses me once again, the same amount of passion as the last, making up for the lost affection as i feel more treasured than ever. this is all I have ever wanted, to feel like he cares, and now that i am feeling his affection, my mind is oozing with contentment, the feeling almost foreign it has been so long.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

#tom kaulitz #kaulitz twins #tokiohotel #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz angst #kaulitz #tom kaulitz fluff #tomkaulitz #tom kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz

282 notes · View notes

augustghosts · 3 months

Text

Stewy Hosseini x female reader

A classic tale of fucking your ex at your friends wedding. We’ve all been there, I think.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: 18+ pls, minors will be blocked! Not proofread which is defo a warning, lmk if you spot anything ive missed. Smut. Oral f!recieving and protected pinv. Alcohol and drugs are mentioned slightly.

Little authors note sorry: Hey everyone i am actually alive lol. 5 months later i return writing for someone new… not out of character for me. I watched succession for the first time recently (late asf to the party i know) and i read some amazing stewy fics so i thought i’d add my piece because i’m obsessed with him. Sorry to all my tommy miller babes on here, i swear i tried writing for him again but my inspiration for tommy fics seems to have gotten lost. I really struggled when i tried finishing my half way done tommy series lol. But when i started writing this one it just floooowed and i finished it in like a few hours. Maybe my tommy love will come back someday but for now…. This. Hope someone out there enjoys lol <3

You’ve felt eyes on you all night. Everywhere you go you end up meeting his eyes across the room. Eveytime you look over at him, he’s already looking. He should be the one that's embarrassed, you’ve caught him looking at you multiple times, but you’re always the one who ends up looking away first and feeling your skin heat with the embarrassment of being caught. While he shamelessly stares at you over the rim of his glass, that awful fucking smirk gracing his lips and he watches you squirm. Honestly, it’s kinda creepy. And you almost hope he approaches you so you can tell him that.

Towards the end of the night he starts to close in, starts inching closer to you. He starts making conversation with the people around you, people at the bar next to you, and eventually your friends. Asking them how they are, how it’s been such a long time. Then, he finally gets to you. He takes his time looking you over before he speaks and you’re determined not to be the first one to talk, so you let him stare. Both of you standing in silence for a few seconds before he finally speaks.

“You look great.”

”Thanks.” Keeping it simple seems safe. You want to tell him he looks good too because fuck, he does. He always does. He notices your eyes drifting over his suit and tie and he chuckles.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“Uhm,” He trails off - pretends to think. “I’m at a fucking wedding, and i’m enjoying myself.”

”Yeah?” You ask, he nods in agreement. The way his eyebrows raise tells you he’s still being sarcastic, still mocking you. “Watching my every move all night is how you enjoy yourself?”

“Actually, yes.” He confirms. “Watching you squirm all night was pretty fun.”

”I wasn’t.” You attempt to defend yourself, downing your drink. “I was just-“

“I’ll get you another.” He cuts you off, snatching your glass out of your hand - not even bothering to ask. You almost try to protest, but you don’t see the point. You know him too well, you know how stubborn he is, once he gets an idea it’s hard for him to let it go. If the idea he’s got tonight is paying for your drinks, then so be it - who were you to complain. You sit down on the stool next to you, watching as Stewy makes the bartender laugh as he orders your drinks. You're kind of pissed that you still can’t figure him out sometimes, you know him better than most people - maybe better than anyone, but he still confuses you. It has been a while since you last saw him, but you conclude that he hasn’t changed much.

When he comes back with your drinks he puts yours down in front of you and asks: “Still your favorite?”

You nod, kind of pissed that he got it right. You try to convince yourself that he didn’t actually remember that small detail. That he’s just been watching you order them all night during your staring competition.

“So, how’s your family?” You ask, cringing at how lame you sound. You just don’t want to let him start a conversation you don’t want to have.

He smiles, because he knows what you're doing. “They’re fine. I still don’t see them much, but they’re good.”

”You’re still too busy to see your family?” You joke.

“Mhm,” His smile almost looks genuine as you joke with each other. “I’m always busy.”

“Busy stealing people's money?”

He laughs then, a genuine laugh that makes you laugh as well. God, you don’t want to admit that you missed him. But everyone else just seems so boring after him, you’ve never found the same thing you’d had with him with anyone else.

“You never really understood business did you?” He laughs.

“I understand perfectly.”

“Sure,” He agrees. “I explained it to you enough times.”

“Yeah, and bored me to death.”

”Is that why you broke up with me?”

His question completely catches you off guard and you almost choke on your drink. You almost want to ask him if he purposefully said that while you were taking a sip, but you’re too busy trying to supress your coughing.

“Jesus, it was just a question.” Stewy laughs at you again, his warm hand coming to rest on your back as he watches you almost choke.

“Fuck you.” You say pointedly, after getting yourself back under control. ”You know why we broke up. Also, I broke up with you?”

”You did.”

“Stewy, it was amicable.”

“Was it?” His face goes serious again and you instantly miss the sound of his laugh. You just sigh, taking another sip of your drink. This was exactly the conversation you didn’t want to have.

“I thought you said you were enjoying yourself,” You say after a few moments of silence. “Don’t ruin it now.”

”I lied.” He says. “I always hated those two, I can't believe they actually got married.”

”Match made in hell.” You agree, both of you laugh softly again.

“You know I also lied earlier when I said you looked great.” He says, surprising you. You brace yourself for whatever joke he’s going to make about you, you shouldn't have pissed him off, he can get mean when he’s pissed off. It’s not his fault, it’s just his defense mechanism - but nevertheless you brace yourself for his comment - and he surprises you again by saying: “You look fucking incredible.”

You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. You opt for another sip of your drink instead and he watches you in amusement.

“I only came because I hoped you would be here,” He continued. You still can’t tell if he’s being serious or not, that damned smirk on his face makes you think he’s making fun of you, but those big brown eyes look so sincere.

“Stewy, stop.” You sigh.

“Come on, baby.” He murmurs, he leans forward in his chair and places his hand on your knee. The nickname makes you tense up. Makes a familiar heat spread through you. “Let me get you another drink and take you up to my room.”

Fuck. He’s fucking good at this, and he knows it. He knows exactly how to get you. You’re trying to think, but the alcohol and the way his thumb is rubbing your knee is clouding your mind. He waits patiently, watching as you look down at his hand and back up to his face. Your eyes stop at his lips before meeting his gaze.

“Alright,” You say, you swear you can actually see his eyes light up. “Go get me another drink and show me your room. Then I'll decide.”

“You got it.” He grins and practically jumps out of his seat. When he returns he holds out his hand to help you off your stool, the heels you decided to wear and the drinks weren’t a good match. He hands you your drink, although you don’t really want it now. His hand finds its place on the small of your back and a fire lights up somewhere inside of you. His touch feels so familiar - comforting. He leads you out of the bar and to the elevators. Punching in the right number before the doors close, leaving you both alone in the small space. It suddenly feels too quiet.

You want to touch him, but once again you don’t want to be the one to make the first move. You don't want him to know how desperate you are for him, although you think he already knows. He’s watching you in silence, his eyes dark and wanting. A look you’ve seen a million times before - a look that makes you excited. The elevator ride is short, Stewy isn’t the type to kiss you in an elevator, and you know that, so you’re not disappointed when the doors open and he hasn’t touched you or said a word.

He gestures for you to leave first, putting his hand on the door so they don’t close on you, or him. Some people would find this strange, the silence, but it’s a game you’ve both played with each other before. A game you both enjoy. He guides you to his room with a hand on your back, just like before. When he unlocks the door and opens it for you, you suppress a gasp. As usual, Stewy needs to have the best of the best. The bride and groom's room probably isn’t even this nice. They probably couldn’t afford it - Stewy can.

“Well?” His voice sounds from behind you.

“Hm?”

”What do you think? You said you would decide when you saw the room. Is it good enough for you?”

”Uhm,” You pretend to think as you set your drink down on the dresser, turning around to dramatically inspect the room. It earns a playful eye roll from Stewy. He knows what impresses you and he knows he already has you. He already had you down at the bar.

“I think it’s okay.” You conclude, turning to face him. He hums in sarcastic agreement, looking you up and down. He’s playing the game again, who is going to end it first. Who is going to lose. You don’t like losing, and neither does he. But honestly, haven’t you already lost? He has you in his room for christ sake. He has you standing in front of him, already dripping and all he’s done is touch your leg a little and look at you the right way. So you put aside your pride and step towards him, you bring your hands up to his cheeks and roughly bring his face down to your, finally connecting your lips.

His hands immediately find their home at your hips, pulling you tightly against him. The kiss immediately turns from an innocent kiss to a hungry and passionate one, his tongue dominating your mouth. You both know each other's bodies so well, there's no need for taking it slow or asking questions.

“Fuck, Stewy.” You sigh as he backs you towards the bed, gently setting you down and climbing over you. Kissing every inch of your skin.

“God, I missed that.” He groans, marveling over the way you sigh his name. “I missed you, baby. I can admit it. I want you so badly.”

You moan softly at his words, at the way his lips feel on your neck - at how right this feels. You had missed him too. He catches you off guard when he pulls away to ask, ”Have you been fucking other people?”

“Sorry?” You giggle, “Why are you asking me that now?”

”Have you?” He presses.

“I ju- maybe.” You stutter, already missing his lips.

”Maybe?”

”I know you’ve been fucking as well.” You accuse, suddenly defensive. You push yourself up onto your elbows, despite still being trapped underneath him.

“Yeah, I have.” He says coolly.

“So?” You ask, irritated. Why was he doing this?

“So, none of them were as good as you.” His words earn an eye roll from you. “Nothing can compare to this pussy.” He adds, his hand sliding down to roughly grip your thigh and bring it over his waist. Oh, shit. His half hard cock is pressing perfectly against your pussy in this new position, the material of your dress and his suit pants keeping you apart. “And, i bet none of those guys fucked you the way i do.” One of his hands comes up to grip your chin, his other keeping him above you. He forces you to look him in the eyes as he asks, “Did they?”

“No.” You practically squeak. “None of them were like you. No one is like you, Stewy.”

You’re not even lying, after having sex with Stewy for so long nothing compared. You had gotten accustomed to a man who knew what he was doing, to a man who was generous in bed. You had gotten used to a man who could make you cum. No one had achieved that after him. Your answer obviously pleases him, he grins and leans down to kiss you again.

He ends the kiss and stands up leaving you spread out on the bed, you whine underneath him, chasing for more. He ignores you and slips off his suit jacket. He makes a show of undoing the top button of his shirt and loosening his sleeves in order to push them up to his elbows. Fuck, he looks so good. You almost want to tell him, but you don;t need to. He can see the way you're watching him, that look in your eye. He knows what you look like when you’re turned on - and this is it. He grabs your thighs and pushes your dress up to your waist, getting a good look before sliding your panties down your legs, throwing them over his shoulder somewhere.

“I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve, baby. I know what you need. I can’t wait to taste you.” He rambles as you whimper in anticipation, he presses a kiss to your ankle as he watches you buck your hips.

He has his mouth on you before you can respond. Just as you remember, he is painfully and infuriatingly good at it. He still eats pussy like it's his second nature. He still looks up at you through his gorgeous lashes as he traces your clit with his tongue. He has to hold back from grinning against you as you writhe and whimper. He groans as you sigh his name and run your hand through his hair. You remember how much you love it when he’s like this, when he's animalistic and loses his composure.

Your legs tighten around his head as he digs his fingers into the flesh of your thighs. It’s fucking embarassing how quickly you barrel towards your climax, but it has been a while. And no one else devours you like this, no one else is this good. You should have expected it. He recognizes it immediately, breaking away from you for a second to speak.

“Are you gonna come for me, baby?”

“Yes! Please, Stew.” You moan, your hands grabbing at his hair attempting to push him back down. He smiles wickedly, licking his lips as he watches you.

“God, I love it when you beg for me.” He mumbles before diving back in, allowing you to push his head down and maneuver him.

"Please make me come," you groan, arching your back. “I'm so close, don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t stop, he continues to lap at you and work you though your orgasm as you come against his mouth. His beard delightfully scratches your sensitive skin, leaving behind a delicious burning feeling. He’s painfully hard now, after watching you come and hearing you moan his name. You begin to push at his head when you come down, usually he would tease you a little now, knowing how sensitive you are and make the most of it. But he’s so fucking desprate for you, he has been all night. He’s been dreaming about being inside of you for hours now.

He’s instantly on his feet, undoing his belt and undressing. You follow suit, weakly sitting up - doing the best your legs can do when they feel like jelly, you lift your dress over your head and throw it on the floor with his clothes. He’s climbing back on top of you, kissing you hungrily. His lips and chin are still wet with your juices and you moan into his mouth as you taste yourself on his lips.

“How do you want me?” You ask breathlessly, fully prepared to submit to him- to do whatever he asks.

“Fuck,” He groans at your words, having to pause for a second. “Can you turn over for me?”

You smile, leaning up to kiss him one more time before turning over and crawling to the middle of the bed, pushing yourself up onto your knees and holding yourself up on your elbows, so your back is deliciously arched the way you know he likes. You grin as you hear him groan behind you, his hand petting your ass before he delivers a light slap to it. He steps away from you and you hear the rustling of a condom wrapper, did he have that in his fucking pocket? His words from earlier repeat in your head, ‘I only came because I hoped you would be here.’

“Plese fuck me, Stewy.” You moan softly, knowing exactly what he wants to hear. “I need you.”

”How bad?” He teases. The head of his cock is ever so slightly pressing against your entrance, he’s hardly holding back as he waits for your answer, pushing in slightly.

“So bad,” You sigh, pushing back on him so he slips easily inside of you. You both moan loudly, you love that he’s so loud and shameless in bed. He stays still once he’s bottomed out.

“Yeah?” He says through gritted teeth.

“Yes! Please move. I need to be fucked properly, only you can do it.”

The sound he makes behind you is heavenly, you knew that would work. He pulls out of you before pushing back in slowly. He always does this, he starts slow and then builds up to a bruising pace. All you can do is whimper beneath him and beg for him to fuck you faster. Your pussy sucks him in greedily, his cock pushing against that spongy spot inside of you with every thrust.

“You take me so fucking well. Like you were fucking made for me.” His voice is deep and raw.

”I think I am,” You moan. “You feel so fucking good!”

“Are you gonna come for me again, sweetheart? Gonna soak my cock?”

All you can do is furiously nod your head and moan beneath him, the sounds of your pussy squelching as he fucks you is almost embarassing. You don’t have time to think about it because he’s pulling out of you and gently flipping you over onto your back. He lifts your legs and rests his knees on the bed, throwing your feet over his shoulders and he leans over you. He guides his cock back into you and dives down to kiss you, his tongue pushing past your lips in a messy kiss. You’re both moaning into each other's mouths, not minding when your teeth momentarily clack together.

“Come on gorgeous,” He groans, he’s breathless - pressing kisses to your face between his words. You can tell he’s close too. “Come for me. Squeeze my cock. Let me fucking have it.”

He feels you tighten around him as you come, his name leaving your lips like a fucking prayer. Your hands tightening around his neck, nails digging into his skin.

“Fuck, that’s it. You look so beautiful, baby.” He talks you through it, still fucking you as you come around him.

“Oh my god,” You moan. “Come inside of me, Stewy.”

You know he’s wearing a condom, but the dirty talk is hot. He thinks so too, because that's all it takes for him to come. His head is buried in your neck, his teeth biting into the soft skin under your ear. No doubt leaving a mark, but you’ll worry about that tomorrow. Right now all you can think about is how hot he sounds when he comes, you love that he isn’t quiet, that he isn’t afraid to groan your name into your neck.

He stays still for a second, lifting his head and kissing you - gently this time, before he pulls out. You rest for a minute while he discards the condom. You hear rustling and sniffing while he’s in the bathroom and you almost want to yell out to him - this is why we broke up. But you ignore it, getting up from the bed and breezing past him as he leaves the bathroom. You close the door behind you, taking the hotel robe off the back of the door and cleaning yourself up, doing what you need to do. You wonder if you should shower, but decide you should probably go back to your own room to do that.

When you leave the bathroom he’s sitting in the bed under the covers, the tv remote in his hand. Your dress and underwear have been picked up and folded on the chair beside the bed. It makes you smile, how can someone be so thoughtful but so selfish at the same time. That’s why you broke up, you need to keep reminding yourself.

“So, I guess I'm gonna go back to my own room.” You say as you gather your things. You’re on your way back to the bathroom with your clothes when he speaks up.

“Okay,” He says, respecting your decision. “Why?”

”Why?” You repeat, stopping your tracks. “Don’t you want me to go?”

”No. I want you to watch tv with me.”

”Seriously?” You laugh before you realize he’s being serious.

“Yeah, seriously.” His face is impassive, and hard to read. But you can’t resist those big brown eyes and you drop your clothes back onto the floor and slip into bed with him.

“Hey,” He whines as he looks at your dress. “I picked that up and folded it for you and you just threw it on the floor again.”

“Sorry, how rude of me.” You laugh at the mock pout on his face. You’ve sat pretty far away from him and he eyes the space between you.

“Come here.” He says lifting up his arm so you can cuddle into his side. God, you shouldn’t be doing this, you should have left. But he smells good and this bed is so comfortable.

“Will you stay the night here?” He asks quietly

”I shouldn’t.” You sigh.

“I know.” He agrees.

Of course you end up staying the night, Stewy is very convincing. With his promise of round two and a warm shower in the morning, it’s hard to resist. He also promises an expensive breakfast after the shower, but he says, ‘only if you behave yourself.’ You spend the whole night talking and laughing with him. Not only is he the best fuck you’ve ever had, he’s also the funniest person on earth. He’s got the kindest eyes you’ve ever seen but he’s also the biggest assole you’ve ever met. He’s so confusing, but that night you decide that maybe taking a little more time to try and figure him out won’t be so bad - only time will tell.

#i couldnt think of a title btw so…. yea #im RUUSSTTYY i havent written in months lmao #apologies in advance i guess #if anyone even reads this lmao #stewy hosseini #stewy hosseini x reader #stewy hosseini x fem reader #stewy hosseini fan fiction #stewy hosseini smut #succession #succession fanfiction #fanfiction #smut #female reader #x reader

98 notes · View notes

its-all-stardust · 7 months

Text

Head Above Water

Matt Murcock/GN!Reader

3.9k

Summary: A month after Thanos turns half of all life to dust with the snap of his fingers, you find a man sitting on a bench in the rain, alone.

Notes: This is my first fic here, and to be honest, I'm testing the waters a little bit with it lol. I hope to write more fics for Matt and other characters in the future! My ask box is open and feedback is appreciated ❤️

Thunder claps in the distance, and you know the rain is only going to get heavier. Part of you doesn’t mind, despite the already-soaked legs of your jeans. Your small umbrella barely covers your shoulders, the occasional drip hitting you when you let it tilt the wrong way in your daze. You meant to get a new one ages ago, especially when the fabric started lifting away from the metal. But you never got around to it.

And now, you don’t care.

It’s been a month since the world ended. A month since you lost your sister.

A month since half the world—or half the universe, if what the news report you barely listened to is true—turned to dust.

And fuck, do you hope Lizzie turned to dust. Hope that she didn’t go down with the plane as it crashed in the middle of some town, engulfing everything in a fiery blaze.

You hope she turned to dust. You think about her last moments often.

Would she have been terrified if she noticed her limbs fading away before she ceased to exist? Or would she have been confused? Was she awake when it happened, or was she asleep?

Did she cry when the plane started to plummet?

Dust or fire, either way, she’s gone.

The rain feels nice, in a way. A chilling reminder that the world stopped and still stops. The streets are practically empty with so many people gone and the natural dislike of being caught out in a storm.

But it never feels like enough.

The world stopped, but it didn’t end.

Someone walks by on the other side of the street.

A month.

It’s only been a month, and you and everyone else are expected to live as if the worst tragedy in history hadn’t just happened.

You can’t go back to work. You were supposed to. But your days are consumed by grief after losing the only person you loved. How can you go back, pretend that it never happened, that you’re fine?

You’re not fine.

You don’t think you’ll ever be fine.

You don’t have a job anymore.

Your foot catches on something, sending you stumbling and pulling you out of your dark reverie. Rain spills down your back as your umbrella tilts forward. You don’t know what you tripped over, nor do you care very much. You adjust your umbrella and try to take another step forward, but stop when you send a cane clattering down the sidewalk.

The sight of it makes you pause, confused. Your state of mind slows any thoughts that aren’t of Lizzie. It takes a moment to realize you’ve stopped next to a bench.

A bench with a man sitting on it.

“I’m sorry,” you quickly say. The cane must belong to him.

You’re still not used to how empty the streets of New York City feel and have grown used to the lack of people running about, no longer needing to carefully avoid hitting others or having someone slam into you with abandon. You haven’t needed to avoid being in someone’s way for what feels like an eternity.

It’s been a month.

Shaking away the cloud of thought, you reach down, pick up the cane, and turn to the man, who hasn’t said a word since you ripped it away from him.

Holding it out, you wait for the man to take it, but he doesn’t move. Then you notice his dark glasses and what type of cane you’re holding.

The man is blind.

“Uh…” you start, stumbling over what to say. “Here’s your cane. Sorry.”

Like a statue coming to life, the man finally moves. Reaching for his cane, you set it in his hand.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, settling back into the bench.

You should leave. You’ve done your due diligence and given the man back his cane, but your feet don’t want to move.

The man is soaking wet, dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants. He had no jacket or umbrella of his own. His hair is plastered to his head, and raindrops collect on the lenses of his glasses briefly before falling. He looks like a mess. You’re not one to judge because you looked much the same over the past month.

Looking past him, you see the church.

“You uh…need help getting inside? It’s a little wet out here,” you finish awkwardly. You have no idea if he even believes in God enough to want to go inside, if he just came from it, or if this is just the first bench he found. Whichever it is, you don’t like the idea of him sitting out in the rain with not even a jacket to keep the rain off, especially not with a storm coming.

More thunder nearly drowns out the man’s answer: a short, simple “No.”

But still, you stand there in front of him, watching water drip down through his dark hair and land on his cheek.

“Here,” you say suddenly, mind made up. “Take this.”

The man looks confused, the first expression you’ve seen on his face. But he doesn’t say anything, just holds out his free hand, where you place the handle of your umbrella.

“What’s this?” he finally asks.

“An umbrella,” you say and start to turn away.

“Don’t you need it?” the man calls after you.

You pause and turn back. “Not anymore.”

Despite his frown, the man goes quiet and settles the umbrella against his shoulder, the rain now no longer able to reach his face. Water still drips down his hair as you turn to leave, walking a little faster to get back to your apartment before you end up like the man outside the church.

It’s still raining the next day, but it does nothing to stop you from going on your daily depression walk.

You couldn’t stay curled up on the floor of your apartment any longer, so you’ve taken to spending the day wandering the city streets, lost in thought, trying to wear yourself out so you can sleep at night.

You’re berating yourself today, one of the iterations of thoughts you cycle through these days.

How can you walk miles throughout the city for days on end but can’t make yourself go to work? You lost your job, and the landlord—the new landlord, after the old one turned to dust, is bound to catch on that your rent payment is late. You don’t think you can get evicted during a state of emergency, but you wouldn’t bet on it.

The world ended. Your world ended. You shouldn’t be expected to have picked up the pieces and moved on like everyone else.

The world never stopped turning, though. Part of you knows you can’t keep doing this forever—avoiding life and praying everything goes back to normal. It won’t, not with Lizzie dead. But if you don’t, you’re sure you’ll find some way to join your sister in whatever afterlife she ended up in.

Your foot knocks against something, and you stop. You wandered too close to a bench where someone sits, making you walk right into a cane extended into your path.

Not thinking much of it, you’re about to step around it when you recognize the man on the bench. You’re at the church again, and the same man as yesterday sits outside. Without the umbrella you gave him.

You’re afraid he’s been here since yesterday without moving, but you see that the t-shirt and sweats he’s wearing today are black as opposed to the gray he had on when you first saw him.

You can’t help but be a little annoyed that the man appears to have lost your umbrella. But as you stare at him, at the blank expression on his face, and the defeated slump of his shoulders, it reminds you of yourself. If you didn’t despise wearing soaking wet clothes, you’d likely be without an umbrella, too.

You want to help, but you’re not particularly inclined to give him another umbrella for him to lose, not since you just bought this one on the way home yesterday.

So you sigh and, unsure if the man even knows you’re there, sit next to him on his right side, immediately soaking the seat of your pants on the wet bench. Shifting your umbrella to cover both you and the man, you sit back and wait.

Silence surrounds you for long enough to congratulate yourself on buying a larger umbrella. Your right side, and presumably the man’s left, is being hit by the rain, but it’s doing a decent job of covering two people not pressed close together.

“What…are you doing?” the man finally asks, either just noticing your presence or deciding to acknowledge it. His voice cracks, making you wonder when he last spoke and how long he’s been in the rain.

“Waiting for the rain to stop,” you tell him as if it were obvious. You adjust your grip on the handle to rest it against your arm. You could be here for a while and want to be as comfortable as possible.

“...why?”

“You lost my umbrella,” you say, looking at him. “At least, I assume you did since you don’t have it, and I don’t want you to get wet. Well, any wetter than you already are.” You finish awkwardly.

A look of realization comes over the man’s face. He recognizes you now.

“I…forgot it,” he says simply, and you wonder if that’s true. Maybe he wandered out into the city without it on purpose, hoping the rain would either cleanse him or punish him.

You know the feeling well.

Silence descends again. So far, the rain hasn’t shown any signs of stopping, nor has the man seemed uncomfortable with your presence.

Then he shivers. Maybe you’ll bring him a jacket tomorrow if he’s still here. If you find one his size, which you can only guess at.

Next, the man’s hands start fidgeting with his cane, the most movement you’ve seen from him during your brief interactions.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly.

The man scoffs, a bitter smile on his face. “No.”

His voice shakes, and you watch as he swallows and clenches his jaw. You’re familiar with the reaction. You’ve done it a lot over the past month when you want to avoid crying in front of others.

You look away from his face and down to his hands. He’s clutching his cane in a white-knuckle grip with both hands, and it’s a wonder he doesn’t snap the thing in two.

Something comes over you then, and you don’t know if you should do it or if it’s even a good idea. But you give in to temptation, sitting up to reach over with your right hand and place it on the man’s clenched fists.

“Neither am I,” you say softly, pressure starting to build in the back of your throat.

The man freezes, and you’re afraid you’ve overstepped, crossed a line with this stranger that you had no business crossing.

You’re about to pull away when he shifts, one of his hands turning to grasp yours, clutching it like a lifeline.

Neither of you speaks, both trying to breathe through the wave of emotion welling up inside you.

Connecting like this with someone is…nice. Practically everyone around you lost someone because of the attack, but this is the first time you don’t feel alone in your grief.

You don’t know how long you sit like that, but you’re disappointed when you notice the rain finally stopped. Letting go of the man’s hand, you move your umbrella off to the side and close it.

You’re unsure where to go from here, what the next step is now that you’ve held hands with and found comfort in a stranger.

Glancing over at the man, you see his hand is still open as if waiting for you to take it again. You hesitate briefly before giving him your name.

It’s almost as if he comes alive then, taking a deep breath like it’s his first taste of air. He shifts, turning to face you.

“I’m Matt,” he says.

“Matt,” you repeat, a small smile on your lips. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Matt kept sitting on the bench outside Clinton Church. He’d been doing it since the day everyone died. First Karen and Foggy turned to dust in front of him. Then, when his head cleared enough, he went to the orphanage to look for Maggie.

She was gone, too.

And so he sits outside the church, going back to his apartment when he needs to. But he always returns. Matt doesn’t go inside, doesn’t pray. He’s just numb and doesn’t have anywhere else to go.

Then, one day, you appeared and gave him an umbrella.

And you kept coming back.

A week in, though the two of you barely spoke, Matt asked why you did. You tensed and hesitated long enough that Matt was about to try to take the question back when you quietly admitted, “I like sitting with you.”

He froze, not knowing how to react. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but the thought that you enjoyed his silent company never occurred to him. It was an odd thing for Matt to hear.

The fallout with his friends was only just recovering after his disappearing act. He had just learned to truly let the people who cared about him in. And with everyone suddenly gone, the idea that a stranger wanted to be around Matt was shocking.

Uncomfortable with the feeling welling up in his chest, Matt changed the topic.

“Do you always walk this way?” He’s mostly out of it while losing himself outside the church, but even so, he didn’t remember someone walking by every day at the same time like clockwork.

“I only just started this way,” you explained with a shrug. “Needed to change up my route.”

You went silent, and Matt could feel the melancholy pouring out of you.

He didn’t ask why. He could guess well enough why you’d be sad about changing a familiar walking route or why you never seemed to be going anywhere in particular. Instead, he stayed silent, thinking about how he liked sitting with you, too, and how warmth still radiated on his skin from when you held his hand.

As the days went on, you and Matt slowly started talking more, carefully avoiding mentions of friends or family. You started sitting with him for longer, and Matt began to expect you at 2:14 every day and looked forward to your warmth at his side.

But it’s 2:22, and you’re not here. Matt listens for your heartbeat, the sound of your footsteps on the concrete, but there’s no trace of you. He fidgets with his phone, having it repeat the time as if it’ll go back or make you appear. Ever since that first day, you were never late, and something in his chest—which he refuses to believe is his heart—constricts at the thought that something happened to you.

He wants to believe that you simply changed your route again. That maybe you were tired of him, didn’t want to be around him, and just didn’t know how to tell him. But Matt remembers how quiet you were yesterday. How your silence reminded him not of the unfamiliarity of a stranger but of a sadness barely held in check. Your breath hitched, and you let out a small gasp before cutting your visit short and leaving with a strained smile pulling at the corners of your mouth and a promise to see him tomorrow.

But you’re not here.

Matt’s conflicted. Should he try to find you? Does he have any right to? What would you think of him if he did? Should he stay and wait, see if you show up late? Wait until tomorrow before truly worrying?

Something is wrong.

The thought won’t leave him. What started as a scratch has turned into claws digging into his gut, trying to pull him forward toward—

Where would he even look for you?

Matt stops a few feet away from the bench. He hadn’t realized he had even started moving.

Where would he look for you? He doesn’t know where you live or the route you take. Finding you would be nearly impossible.

Except he hears the faintest trace of your voice. He’s familiar with the cadence, matching perfectly with the one in his memory.

Matt follows without a thought, crossing into the street and forcing someone to slam on their breaks to avoid hitting him with their car. He tries not to run, instead staying at a fast-paced walk. You don’t sound like you’re hurt. In fact, you’re…humming?

Matt forces himself to stop. The tune sounds familiar, but in his panic, he can’t quite place it before you stop.

Maybe…maybe you are fine, and you just… didn’t want to see him anymore, unable to find the same comfort in him that he found in you. His stomach sours at the thought, his face twisted at the small pain in his chest.

And then he hears something else.

“I miss you.”

Your voice is so quiet, and Matt is so far away he almost misses it. The pain in his chest eases, but now he’s less sure about what to do.

You’re clearly unharmed, but Matt remembers what you said to each other that second day.

Neither of you are okay.

And you wouldn’t have kept coming back for days if you hadn’t found some sort of stability, some familiarity in him.

Matt keeps walking. You’ve stopped talking, but he has a decent idea where you are. He doesn’t think you moved, either. If you do, Matt’s sure he’ll be able to follow you easily, especially now that he’s caught your heartbeat.

Within minutes, he finds you sitting on some other bench, hunched forward, holding something in your hands. There’s saline in the air around you. You’ve been crying. There aren’t any tears on your cheeks now, but he can tell your eyelids are swollen from earlier.

Matt stands there, taking you in, unsure if he should approach or walk by and hope you’ll say something. He licks his lips and starts forward, decided. When he gets close enough to the bench, Matt taps the end with his cane before sliding it along the ground to hit your foot.

Startled, you jerk your feet back as he says, “Sorry, is this seat taken?”

“Matt?” you ask, confused when you see him standing next to you. “You…left your bench.”

“I…did.” He was in such a rush to find you that he hadn’t considered that you would find it strange for him to be somewhere else.

“Why?”

Matt flounders for a moment, unable to tell you the truth, before repeating something you said to him. “I needed to change my bench.”

You nod in understanding, believing he could no longer sit somewhere that held so many memories—the reason you had to change your route.

You slide down the bench. “Sit.”

The usual silence falls between you as Matt takes the spot next to you, but he isn’t comfortable in it this time. You’re staring at the thing in your hands and chewing your lip. Matt shifts in his seat, unable to maintain his usual stillness. He doesn’t know where to go from here. He didn’t come up with a plan.

“Do you like this place?” you ask suddenly.

“The…city?” Now it’s Matt’s turn to be confused.

You laugh lightly. “The bakery.” You tilt your head back to gesture. “Behind us,” you say when you remember he can’t see.

Matt has been so focused on you that he blocked everything else out. Now, as he takes in the space around him, the scent of all sorts of baked goods wafting over him from the building only feet away. He doesn’t even need his heightened sense for it. It’s a bit of a wonder, he thinks, that it’s still open.

“I’ve never actually been here,” he admits. “Have you?” As soon as he says it, he realizes that the thing in your hands is a cupcake and that you’ve just come from the bakery yourself.

“Yeah,” you say softly, focusing intently on the desert. “It’s my sister’s favorite place. Was her favorite.”

With those words, you start crying. For the first time, you cross the unspoken line between you to not talk about whoever you lost. You both avoided the topic not to create a barrier or to keep from knowing too much about each other but because it was too hard. Your tears are evidence. But even still, you told him.

Matt is shocked but won’t stop you if you are ready to take that step.

“What’s her name?” he asks gently, careful not to pry too deeply. When your breath hitches, he reaches out, fingers brushing your forearm.

“Elizabeth. Lizzie. She was my best friend.” Raising a hand, you wipe your face. “It’s her birthday.”

Matt lets out a breath, practically feeling your pain. No wonder you’re so upset, why you left yesterday.

“Here,” you say suddenly before Matt can speak. “It’s a cupcake.”

“Isn’t it for her? Shouldn’t you eat it?” he asks, yet reaches for it anyway. You wince as you set the cupcake in his hand.

“I actually hate red velvet. It was always her favorite flavor. Uh…I heard it’s good, though,” you awkwardly assure, making Matt let out a soft chuckle.

“We’ll find out.” Matt starts peeling the wrapper off but doesn’t take a bite. Instead, he sits there, wondering if he should share with you what he lost. If he even can.

But he wants to try.

“When I was a kid,” he starts slowly, finding the words and prying them out from that place in his heart where he locked them away.

“I lost my dad and grew up in the orphanage just behind the church we sit at.”

You stay silent, letting Matt speak, giving him your rapt attention. It seems you’re just as shocked that he’s sharing with you.

“I didn’t really have anyone growing up. And then I met Foggy while I was in college. And Karen a couple of years ago. And then, a few months ago, I…found my mother in that very church. Maggie.” A fond smile finds its way onto Matt’s face. He hasn’t said any of their names in so long. It feels good.

But it quickly falls.

“They’re gone now,” he finishes. He doesn’t need to explain how.

You reach out, taking Matt’s free hand in your own and intertwining your fingers. He feels the warmth radiating from you, driving away the permanent chill in his bones.

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop missing her,” you say.

“I know I won’t stop wishing they were still here.” Matt feels tears starting to well up in his eyes. But his hands are full, and he can’t wipe away the tear that slips down his cheek.

“Do you want to be friends, Matt?” you ask, a spark of hope filling you, making a small smile appear on your face.

The two of you weren’t yet friends, despite how much time you spent together on the bench. You never shared enough, never talked enough for it to happen.

Matt nods and squeezes your hand.

“I’d like that.”

And unbeknownst to the other, you both think that now that you’ve met, you’ll be able to get through the rest of this life together and, perhaps, be happy.

#matt murdock x reader #daredevil fanfic #daredevil fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #x reader

179 notes · View notes

chubs-deuce · 3 months

Note

Ok I just watched whole hazbin hotel show and I know what you mean about Charlie and Vaggie relationship

their have cute songs together but Vaggie to me personality wise hasn’t got that much of a personality compared to the others characters ?

I think the last 2 episodes she had more of a personality 🤷‍♀️ (this isn’t a anti post , I feel like she has a lot of potential to flash her character out more hopefully in season 2)

personally I prefer Charlie and Alastor cause I feel like theirs something there, it’s interesting and it has a lot of potential

if they wanted me to root for Vaggie and Charlie I feel like they should be friends at first and then we see them slowly falling in love , that’s my opinion of course XD

Agreed 100%

To be fair I don't think charlastor is inherently better in any way, since I recognize that they don't actually have much of a leg to stand on in canon, but they still intrigue me a lot more conceptually in fan-content, in ways that I've outlined in this post already so I won't repeat myself here lol.

Charlie and Vaggie are sweet, unproblematic, thoroughly wholesome and that is a dynamic that can not only absolutely work but also be very appealing!

Good domestic fluff is my bread and butter, but it just doesn't really hit the same when I'm not really given much of a reason to care for the pairing beyond the narrative going "look they hold hands and use pet names, isn't that cute?"

So I agree that having their "falling in love" stage be explored more would've helped a lot in elevating how and why they love each other, though it wouldn't even have been necessary, established relationships in fiction can work really well even without that if done right.

The way they're shown to first meet has SO MUCH POTENTIAL to be a great story bit to explore (I might try and do that in writing some time ngl), with Vaggie just coming from this intense of a betrayal, likely having her whole worldview usurped and now, after being taught all her life that demons are worthless scum, being shown unconditional kindness and offered a helping hand from one... There's a lot for her here to process!

Like I really feel like her repeatedly underlined trust issues could've so easily led into a sweet narrative of how meeting Charlie taught her to trust in others again, but her "learning to trust others" path was already explained with brothers-in-arms style bonding on the battle field and the rest was just kinda played off as a love at first sight thing. It had potential! It was right there! And yet!!! [frustrated groan]

I get they were probably trying to aim for combining those two points and had very little time to do so properly, but it imo just missed the mark by a painful amount...

It doesn't help that Vaggie also generally fell kinda flat as a character for most of the show, in part because she's often forced to share the spotlight and has very little focus put on her as an individual.

I really hope they do her better in the next season either way :')

I haven't given up on chaggie yet, but only time will tell if that changes.

#anti chaggie #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel spoilers #again technically not actually against the ship but I'd rather people be able to block out tags that don't talk positively abt their otps #charlastor #bc it got mentioned even if it's not the focus #chubs answers

79 notes · View notes

lowkeychenle · 10 months

Text

모래성 [LMH] (2) (M)

Description: You and Mark have had a friends with benefits relationship for almost a year now. He's in love with you, addicted to you, but you don't feel the same. You're his poison.

Genre: Smut/hints of angst at the end if you squint

Content Warnings: Explicit unprotected sex (Don't Do This LOL), rough Mark, hand necklaces (don't come for me), some angsty angst because I'm a sad bitch, oh also fem receiving oral and other fun, cool stuff

Word Count: 2,307

Pairing: Mark Lee x Reader

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Juliet's Masterlist | Requests

Mark left you on Monday, and now it’s Friday. You didn’t expect to feel his loss like this—as if he truly is a fundamental part of your life. He’s done with you, and it’s something you’ll have to learn to live with.

In reality, you’re not entirely sure what brought all of this on. Or what made that switch in him flip. Although it doesn’t matter anymore, not when he hasn’t even reached out in the slightest. You see him active on socials, talking to Jaemin or Haechan, but he doesn’t mention you or even talk to you.

You briefly contemplate asking one of the boys, but if he’s done with you, you refuse to look like the desperate one. You just wish you knew what the hell was going on. Every time your phone goes off, you rush to grab it, hoping, praying it might be him.

Four days is a hell of a long time for him to go no contact. Mark isn’t usually a casual hook-up guy either, so getting random texts from him throughout the day wasn’t weird. For some reason, your heart sinks every time you realize it’s not him.

You’re in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, sitting on your couch and watching your favorite TV show, when you get a phone call. Seeing his name on your screen has so many emotions racing through you—excitement, anger, confusion. You want to talk to him about anything he wants, but you also feel as if you deserve an explanation for his outburst.

“Hello,” you answer, shifting to cradle your knees to your chest.

“Can I come over?”

Wow, straight to the point. You scoff. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No.” He shuffles around with something in the background. “I’m so hard right now, and no matter what I fucking do I can’t get off. I’m convinced I’ll never cum again unless it’s inside you.”

You want to be mad at him. Truly. He hurt your feelings Monday night, but that doesn’t change the way the deep tenor of his voice travels from the phone and into your skin. It sends shivers down your spine and wetness to your core, forcing you to clench your thighs together.

“You can be mad at me all you want, but I know you. You’re already wet for me and I’ve barely said anything. I bet if I touched you, you’d be soaked.”

“Mark—”

“For the love of God, can I come over or not?”

Your brain says no. It screams at you, in fact, but nothing can overpower the ache for him between your legs. Your body is conditioned to spending almost every night with Mark. At least five nights a week. You didn’t necessarily have sex every time, but Mark has always been insatiable. It was often enough.

“If you’re not here in five minutes, I’m going to bed.”

“Oh, thank fuck,” he groans. “I’m outside, babe. I’ll be up in a sec. Unlock the door.”

He hangs up, leaving you barely any time to regret your decision before you open it for him. Once he appears down the hall, you walk back into your apartment. You run your fingers through your hair, anxiously awaiting his approach.

You’re in your kitchen by the time you see him. While you aren’t expecting to be happy about his presence, you certainly aren’t expecting the pang of sadness that floods your chest. You avoid his gaze, even looking at him entirely.

Soon enough, the small of your back is pressed into the granite countertop, his body slotted between your legs as if he belongs there. His hand trails up your arm, the tender, gentle touch leaving goosebumps in their wake. The tip of his finger finds your chin, tilting your head up.

His eyes are dark, a beautiful mahogany you find yourself lost in more often than you care to admit. Mussed hair is parted down the middle.

“Look at you.” Mark clicks his tongue. “You’ll never get enough of me, will you?”

“You’re the one who called.” You raise your eyebrows at him.

He recognizes that move. A taunt. A request, even.

“I missed you, baby,” he whispers. “I tried so hard to stay away from you.”

His close proximity to you has you refraining from rolling your hips into his. Both of you are so conditioned to each other, movements are mostly habit now.

“Did you miss me?” He leans closer, fresh mint laced in his breath. “You can’t even stand still, I know you want me.” He presses his clothed hardness against you, smirking when you dig your nails into his forearm.

“I let you in, didn’t I?” You let out a shaky breath, hoping he’ll do something soon.

His fingers lace through your hair, gripping the back of your head and yanking it back. You yelp, mentally cursing how it turns into a sigh the moment his lips graze your neck. His teeth nip at your skin.

“Your pulse is racing,” he mumbles, moving up to your earlobe and taking it gently into his mouth.

“Mark.” You reach down and palm him through his sweats. “Get a fucking move on.”

“Where to?” He thrusts into your hand slowly. “Whatever you want.”

Without another word, you pull your shirt over your head. He watches you hungrily, wetting his lips before they part slightly. Following suit, he throws his on the other side of the room, giving you the second he knows you need to admire his body. After, he slides his fingers into the band of your shorts and tugs downward, taking your panties with them.

He grips your hips, hoisting you up on the counter before practically falling to his knees. Looking up at you, he places his hands on your inner thighs, spreading them apart to make room for him.

“Look at you,” he coos. “I was right. Fucking soaked.”

You open your mouth to scold him for taking so damn long, but that’s exactly when his tongue flicks your clit. A moan slips out instead, which has Mark growling against you.

He finds your slit instead, obscene slurping sounds following as you squirm under his ministrations. God, he’s acting like you’re the first meal he’s had in weeks. You grip his hair, tugging gently. He whines into your core. Your stomach flutters and a knot tightens in your stomach as his nose nudges your sensitive bud while his tongue fucks you.

“Close,” you warn him.

He doesn’t stop. He takes your clit into his mouth and pushes two fingers inside you. If you weren’t so caught up in him, you would’ve been embarrassed by the scream leaving your lips. You try to close your legs, but he spreads them further, into an almost uncomfortable position.

He chuckles against you as you fall apart, body spasming as your orgasm floods through you like a tidal wave. You ride his face through it, chest heaving as you hold onto the countertop for dear life.

When he stands, his lips glisten against the dim lighting of your kitchen. You stare at him, breathless, craving to feel him inside you. Leaning forward, you tug at the waistband of his sweats. He kisses you roughly, helping you push them down to the floor. You taste yourself on his tongue as it dances with yours, but it does little to deter you.

“Tell me you need it,” he hisses, guiding your hand to his cock and helping you jerk him off.

“I need it, Mark.” Your voice shakes with need and you scoot closer to the edge of the counter.

As soon as you feel his tip against your entrance, he wastes no time sliding in. You stretch to accommodate him, the feeling making your eyes roll into the back of your head. Needing more, you roll your hips to take him. He slides his hands beneath your ass, squeezing it as he bottoms out.

“Could fuck you all night,” he groans, biting down on your shoulder to keep himself quiet.

When he starts thrusting, it feels like euphoria. His skin slaps harshly against yours, both of your grunts and pleasured sounds mingling together, all of it’s enough to make you forget Monday night ever even happened.

You’re so lost in him, you almost don’t realize when he picks you up. He holds you to his chest and walks to your couch. He sits, leaning back against the cushion. With a swift movement, he unclasps your bra and dips down to take your nipple in his mouth. He’s seated deeper inside you like this. While his tongue flicks, you grind down.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“I want you to work for it,” he says, teeth grazing you. “Show me how much you want to cum.”

You lift yourself up, whimpering at the slick sound following. Gripping his shoulders, you set a steady pace for yourself, letting your head fall back as he squeezes your breasts.

“That’s it, baby,” he says through clenched teeth. “You take me so well.”

You call out his name. Gyrate your hips. He knows you need more, but he’s clearly enjoying himself too much.

“Mark, for fuck’s sake,” you whine.

“Tell me what you need,” Mark commands.

You settle on his lap, sticky wetness between both of you, and grab his hands. Keeping your eyes on him, you lead his right down between the two of you, pressing his thumb into your clit, and guide the left up to your throat. He wets his lips as he digs his fingers into the sides of your neck.

You start bouncing on him again, the lack of oxygen heightening your pleasure. He rubs you as you take him, and your legs start to shake the closer you get to the end.

“Fuck, cum for me.” His eyebrows furrow, jaw quivering as he admires you on top of him. “Cum on my cock.”

The bubble inside you threatens to burst, and all it takes is one more circle on your clit. You practically scream, moving wildly on top of him as you throw your head back in ecstasy. Mark’s eyes flutter shut, a loud moan escaping him as he tugs you down to cum deep inside of you.

You fall into his chest, both of you sweaty and sticking to each other. Gulping, you put your hand on his face, rubbing his cheek with your thumb. Neither of you says anything until your breathing calms.

“How the fuck do I live without you?” Mark asks, running his fingers through his hair. “Good fucking God.”

Your heart sinks. “What are you talking about?”

The look he gives you is everything you need to know. You curse under your breath, lifting yourself off of him and rushing over to the kitchen with shaky legs. Blinking back tears, you pull your clothes back on.

Mark follows you in, but you throw his shirt and sweats at him.

“Get the fuck out.”

“Wait a second.” He frowns, pulling his underwear and pants on. “I don’t even know why you’re upset—”

“You’re a fucking idiot.” You tug both hands through your hair and knock a cup off the counter into the sink. “Who do you think you are?”

“What are you even talking about?” Mark recoils, face scrunching in shock.

“You fuck me Monday night, then you say you’re done. Now you’re back here, only telling me this is still over after you fuck me. What the hell is your problem?” You feel like your body is on fire. Even after all this time and all you’ve been through, you want to hide yourself from him.

“You’re not good for me.” He shakes his head. “We’re not good for each other.”

“I think you’re missing the point.” You lean on the counter, immediately moving backward when you remember earlier. “I thought you’d at least have some respect for me, Mark. You’re not supposed to fuck girls before you leave them, you know? Kinda hits the self-esteem.”

“Why?”

“I’m not explaining to you why you should be a decent human being—”

“You know I dream about you?” He steps closer. “I go to sleep at night and all I fucking dream about is you. I’m not doing this to hurt you. I just can’t do it anymore.”

You gulp, trying to find something other than him to stare at. “Go, then.”

“Is that what you really want?” He tugs his shirt over his head. “If you want me to go, I will. But I’m not coming back this time.”

You let out a short laugh. “You need me. Whether or not you ever admit that is on you, but you’ll regret walking out on me a second time.”

He frowns, chewing on his bottom lip. “Sure.”

Without another spoken word, he turns away from you and heads toward your door. Thousands of thoughts are exchanged between the two of you. Your heart wants you to beg him to stay. You want to fall to your knees in front of him and make him stay, but you know better.

He touches the knob, glancing back at you once.

As the door closes behind him, your legs buckle. You hold yourself up with your grip on the counter, but eventually allow yourself to slide to the floor. Once the shock wears off, tears well in your eyes.

After a year, that’s all you’re worth to him? You’ve given yourself to him countless times, and even though you’d consider him a friend, the only thing he considers around you is his dick.

You promise yourself you’ll let him go. That you won’t chase him since he’s so complacent about you anyway.

And honestly, you last for a few days, but you’ll never have enough of him.

You call him before the fucking week is through.

#mark lee #nct mark lee #nct mark #nct dream mark #nct dream scenarios #nct dream smut #mark lee smut #mark lee imagine #mark lee x reader

313 notes · View notes

leclerced · 4 months

Note

i know you said you were sad earlier so here is some angst

“my baby my baby my baby you’re my baby say it to me”

i bet on losing dogs - mitski

mclaren daniel x reader where he is depressed as shit and trying to push reader away but she won’t let him and one night he is trying to start a fight just to feel something and it ends in him crumpling down and sobbing and she’s holding his face trying to talk him down going “my baby oh my baby” and he feels ok for just a second.

-🪼🪼🪼

lol tumblr deleted everything i wrote ab this im so done w this app lets try this again and hope it works

daniel would def start a fight to feel some control, he feels like it’s the only thing he can control. i can so see him starting a fight after a bad race, he’s cold after the race, won’t look at her or talk to her. he jerks his hand away and shoves it into his pocket when she reaches for it as they go to leave following the debrief. neither of them speak until they’re back at the hotel, and she asks him if he’s okay when he pretends she isn’t there. it’s probably been building up for awhile, he hasn’t been as attentive as of late and she knows it’s because of the racing but he’s never ignored her like this, never blatantly rejected her in any way, even something like hand holding.

they argue over nothing, going back and forth until he says he wants to be alone, and she says, “then i’ll leave. give me your damn card and i’ll book a plane out if that’s what you want.” and as soon as she says that he’s taking it back, telling her he didn’t mean it and he’s sorry. he’d begged her to come out this season, to be with him. it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

they’d have been yelling at each other from across the room, danny having put the distance between them as soon as they arrived, but the moment she says she’ll leave he closes it, reaching out for her but she pushes his touch away. the act makes him want to throw up and he thinks back to less than an hour before when he jerked his hand out of hers and shoved it into his pocket and regrets it almost as much as saying he wants to be alone, imagines she felt the same then and now and regrets it all. he feels stupid for thinking this is something he could control, that the way to get control was by taking his frustrations on the car and the season out on her.

she’d push back and ask why he said it if he didn’t mean it, ask what he meant by it. he’s being honest when he says he doesn’t know, that he can’t think and he wants to be alone but he doesn’t want her to leave. she tells him he can’t treat her like that, he can’t tell her he wants to be alone if he doesn’t. danny apologizing and begging her not to leave. he’s crying so much she can barely understand him, hoodie sleeves bunched around his fists as he wipes away tears as they fall. he wants to reach out to her but she already pushed his touch away once, and he’s scared to do it again and face the same rejection.

can imagine he crumbles like u said, curling up at her feet and sobbing and she sits in front of him, pulls his hands from his face. he’d pull his knees up to his chest to make himself smaller, trying to shrink in on himself, but she’d push his legs apart and worm her way between them and wrap her legs around his waist to be as close as possible, cupping his cheeks and wiping his tears away with her thumbs as he hiccups between apologies and declarations of love. he’d press his face into her hands and clutch her shirt, the one of his she’d just changed into for bed. she’d kiss his nose and forehead and chin, calling him her baby between each kiss, until his breath calmed and then she’s telling him to say it back and he’d choke on a sob and she’s brushing more tears away just when she thought they were slowing, until he can finally repeat it back to her without choking on the words.

#ask #🪼 anon #dr3 #dr3 blurb

88 notes · View notes

strangerthings-01 · 5 months

Text

He never deserved you

This is a kind of a long fic but I've been gone so long I wanted to give a long and more detailed story lol. I can either do a part two or if anyone has any suggestions, my inbox is open!

Summary: For a couple of months, you had been dating Jason carver until you realized what a douche he was. You never realized ending things with him would help you fall for another. Someone you didn't expect.

Angst, cussing, mentions of smoking

🖤🖤

The 6 AM alarm that suddenly went off, blaring in your eyes jolted you out of your sleep reminding you that it was time to get ready for yet another day of school. You really needed to find a different alarm. Waking up terrified was not the best way to start your day but on the bright side, at least it woke you up. You groaned slightly and rubbed your eyes trying to get the sleep out of them before you turned on the lamp on your nightstand. You squinted at the bright light that filled the room as your eyes tried to adjust from the pitch black they were just in.

Removing the covers off your body, you stood up and grabbed the clothes that you placed on your desk chair the night before, thankful you didn’t have to dig through your drawers to find something. You yawned as you walked into the bathroom that connected to your bedroom and began to get ready.

The outfit was simple. Skinny jeans and a black sweater that fell off one side of your shoulder because of it being just a size bigger than what you’d normally wear. Or maybe it was just like that. Who knows? After placing your hair into a messy bun, you headed downstairs and was grateful when you saw your mom had already brewed some coffee and made you a cup. “Oh thank you. I’m so exhausted today.” Having enough time before you had to leave, you sat down in the kitchen chair across from your mom who was reading the daily paper.

She looked up and set the paper down, leaning her head on her hand. “You’re welcome. Did you not sleep?” You sipped on it and squinted your eyes in concentration. “No I did. I don’t know. Just one of those days I guess.” She nodded and cleared her throat, leaning back in her chair. “Feel that. Well hopefully that coffee will get you through the day. You’re almost done with junior year. Just a couple of more weeks to go. I want you to focus okay?”

You nodded and gave a quick smile. “I will I promise. Finals are the last week of school. I’ve been studying like crazy trying to prepare. I can’t wait for summer.” You rubbed the side of your head and sighed before standing up and washing the mug out then placing it in the sink. “I know the feeling. Just- please don’t let him distract you. Jason, I mean. Boys are not worth more than your future.”

You turned around and leaned on the counter and gave your mom a far off look. “I know that. And I know how you feel about Jason and before you saying anything-“ her mom had opened her mouth to say object. “I know. I’m going to end it soon with him. He’s being an ass lately and hasn’t been treating me right anyways.” She scrunched her eyes brows. “He isn’t hurting you is he? Cause I will-“

“No no! Of course not. I just- he just says things that make me feel unimportant and distant from everyone. I just don’t wanna deal with it. After him, I’m hoping to stay away from boys for a bit.” Your mom smiled. “Good. You deserve better and thank god you’re getting rid of him. I couldn’t stand him.” You laughed and pushed off the counter. “Oh I’m aware. Alright I gotta go. I don’t want to be late. I love you.” You grabbed your car keys from the bowl in the living room and your backpack from the coat hanger and headed out the door as she was saying it back.

You got into your car and started the engine, shivering at the slight cold that nipped at your body. It had been true though. Jason had been treating you like crap. Telling you to be quiet when you said something or dropping your hand when he was around Chrissy which really pissed you off. You knew it wasn’t Chrissy’s fault but it still got under your skin that he didn’t even try to be subtle that he had feelings for another girl. That was the main reason why you were ending it at school today.

You knew it wasn’t the best thing to do but being in a public space made you more comfortable than if you were alone. It was known he had anger issues and you truly didn’t want to risk it.

As you drove off down the rode to Hawkins high, a million thoughts hit your brain. How would you end it? Where would you do it? Empty classroom? No that’s stupid. Maybe the lunchroom? You didn’t want to embarrass him. That’s not who you were. By the lockers would be good. People were around but no one would be paying attention. Not really. More thoughts invaded your brain pulling you from the Jason subject.

You still needed to study for the history exam and you hadn’t even started the science study guide. There was so much going on and you had no idea how you were managing it all. You took a deep breath to calm down and reminded yourself to take it one day at a time. As soon as Jason was out of your life, it was one less thing to worry about and gave you more of an opportunity to focus on exams. It would be a good thing.

You pulled into the parking lot and parked in a random spot. There weren’t many cars that took up the lot seeing as most people walked from the town being so small. The only cars were a few students and the faculty.

You turned your engine off and grabbed your backpack as you made your way into school, nervous about how the day would go. Walking to your locker, you sighed of relief as you noticed Jason wasn’t there yet giving you time to mentally prepare. You opened your locker and put in what you didn’t need at the moment and then shut it. As soon as the latch connected, your friend Tara came up to you. “Hey do you have the notes for English? I’m way behind.” You chuckled and shook your head not even surprised. Tara wasn’t really one to pay attention so she was always asking for notes but she was your friend and she meant well so you typically didn’t mind. “Yeah I do. Hold on.” You opened the English folder that you had in your hand and pulled out a couple of papers with notes scattered all over. “Don’t lose these please.” Tara took them gently and smiled. “I won’t. I promise. Thank you . I owe you one, see you later.”

A couple minutes after she walked away, you felt hands wrap around your waist. “Hey babe.” Jason. You felt immediate annoyance and anxiousness. “Hey Jason.” You turned around and backed away from his embrace. He smiled and leaned down to kiss you but you turned your head so his lips made contact with your cheek instead. He furrowed his eyebrows and pulled his head away. “What was that?” You shoved your hands into your sweater and cleared your throat. “We need to talk…” He raised his eyebrows and chuckled. “Okay? About what? Should we go somewhere private?” You shook your head trying to prepare how you were going to say this. “This isn’t working out. I think we need to break up.” The words flew out before you lost the nerve to speak them. Your hand almost flew to your mouth as if you couldn’t believed you had said it but you forced them to stay in your pockets.

“Uhh I really hope you’re just fucking with me.” He laughed humorlessly. You cleared your throat and looked around to make sure no one was paying attention. They weren’t. “No I’m being serious. I’m tired of the way you treat me and it’s clear you like Chrissy so consider it an out. It’s over.” You looked up at him to try to grasp what he was feeling. He stood there, mouth slightly open and eyebrows scrunched as if she had just told him the most absurd thing. You thought for a second he might actually be hurt and feeling something but no he burst out laughing and pointed at you. “You’re breaking up with me? No babe I’m breaking up with you.” You rolled your eyes and took your hands out of your pockets to fix the strays of your hair. “Honestly if that’s what you want to tell people, it genuinely doesn’t matter to me. As long as I’m away from you.” You began to walk away when he grabbed your wrist tightly and yanked you back so you were face to face. Did no one see that?

“Ow Jason let go.” He sneered at you keeping the grip on your wrist. “You think you’re cute but honey I could have anyone in this school I wanted. The amount of girls I have lined up…you mean nothing to me. All I wanted was the sex and you couldn’t even give me that you fucking tease. So good I’m glad we’re over. Good look finding anyone to be with you.”Your eyes prickled with tears but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of crying. “Let me go Jason. You’re hurting me.” He pinned you against the locker and gripped your face with his other hand. As soon as he did, he was thrown off by someone and you immediately backed away from Jason.

“I could have sworn she told you to let her go, carver. Laying your hands on women. Not a good thing to do around me.” You looked up at the tall figure and it was none other than Eddie Munson. The one everyone called the freak of Hawkins high. You had only talked to him a couple of times in class but he was a pretty nice guy. Just struggled a bit to keep up like Tara or so people whispered. Rumors over him being held back spread like wildfire.

You were shocked he was defending you considering he really didn’t know you. You instinctively got behind him and he gave you a side glance, not moving. “You can mind your own business freak. We were just having a little moment. No one was hurting anyone so back off.”

Eddie chuckled and shook his head, his curls moving around. “Not what I saw but consider it a warning. For her sake. But next time, I won’t be so nice.” Jason laughed and put his hands up shaking them. “Oh wow I’m so scared. Fuck off Munson. Next time I won’t be so nice. You and that little bitch better watch your backs.” He stormed off, leaving you two in the hallway and a couple of people were staring and murmuring about the commotion. Of course now they notice once Eddie is invovled.

Eddie turned around and looked down at you. Rubbing your wrist, you looked up at him and looked into his eyes. You never noticed how pretty his eyes were. Or just how pretty he was. You and Eddie talked occasinoally in class but you never really became clos mainly because jason forbade it. “Are you okay?” He asked which pulled you from whatever trance you were just in.

You blinked a couple of times and looked around the hallway before meeting his eyes again, the eyes that were still focused on you. “I’m okay. I figured he would have had a reaction like that. Why-why did you help me? We barely know each other." Maybe it was a rude question to ask but really, why would he have all people help you? “I know a lot more about you than you would think. Why are you asking? It can’t be hard to believe that I would help you. Especially from someone like Jason.” He looked a little hurt but the look on his face went away as fast as it had come.

His words struck you in a way you couldn’t comprehend. What did he mean he knew about you? I mean yeah you’ve partnered up to do projects but it never turned into a friendship. Conversations didn’t happen often between you two. What could he possibly know. “No no. I’m sorry. That was rude of me. Forget I asked. Thank you for defending me.” Being flustered around Eddie Munson was definitely not on your list of things to expect for the year. “No problem sweetheart. If he bothers you again, don’t be afraid to tell me. You know where to find me.” He winked and walked off giving you no chance to respond. Did he mean at the hellfire club? Or the lunchroom? Or the several classes you shared? You let out a sharp breath and blinked a couple of times trying to make sense of everything when the loud shrilling bell sounded. “Crap I’m late. Munson.” You muttered and ran off towards your first class of the day.

🖤🖤

After school, you were grabbing your things from your locker when tara came up next to you and shut the locker causing you to jump and let out a gasp. "what the hell tara? I'm glad my hand wasn't still there." She gave a slight eyeroll and then a pointed look. "I made sure you were done. You did not tell me that you were breaking up with Jason. I would have thrown a goddamn party. And what the hell was that with eddie munson today? I have literally never seen you have a full conversation with him outside of a classroom? What's the tea miss girl because you nelgected to fill me in at all and-" You cut her off mid rant and laughed slightly, one at the jab at jason and two at the enthusiasm of wanting to know everything all the time.

"I didn't tell you about Jason because I had literally been trying to work up courage all week to end it and I didn't want to lose the confidence to do it. As for Eddie, Jason was being kind of aggresive and he defended me..." Tara's mouth dropped as she leaned against the lockers. "The freak of hawkins high defened a popular kid? Whaaaa? He must like you." She giggled and rubbed her hands together. You rolled your eyes and started walking down the hallway towards the exit, tara hot on your heels. "First, I am hardly popular. More by assoication and that's gone for sure. Second, don't call him that. He's actually really....sweet and he definitely doesn't like me." You pushed open one side of the double doors and walked out into the parking lot heading to your car. "Sweet? I'm sorry. Where exactly did your sense go? This is the guy who stands on top of tables and yells at people who look at him the wrong way."

You turned to face her as soon as you reached the drivers side of your car. "No he yells at Jason. Big difference. I just think he's misunderstood, that's all. So what? He defened me from my jerk ex boyfriend. I doubt we'll ever talk again. He was just being a decent person." Tara scoffed and crossed her arms. "So he didn't say anything else after he defended you? It just happened and what? He walked away?"

You weren't sure if you should tell her the other part just because you knew how it sounded and Tara would totally take it a whole different way but you did want another opinion. "I thanked him and he told me that I knew where to find him if Jason ever messed with me..." You avoided eye contact after the words came out and she squealed, grabbing your arm. And there it is and here we go. "He is so into you. Look he may not be someone I would date and he may be weird as fuck but he's hot as shit. I would support you. Much better than carver." She made a throw up motion. "Tara, I extremely doubt he is into me. We barely talk outside of class like you said. Where would he have had time to gain a crush on me?" Tara shrugged and went to say something when her attention got diverted to something across the parking lot. "Can we talk later? Josh is here. Love you bye." Before you even had the chance to respond, she was halfway across the parking lot to catch up with her boyfriend. Typical Tara.

As you were unlocking your car, you felt eyes on you and looked around to see if it is maybe just paranoia from the events this morning when you caught Eddie leaning against his own car smoking a ciggirate, glancing at you. You made eye contact with him for a couple of seconds before he slightly smirked, put out his cig on the ground using his boot to snuff it and drive off in his car. Flustered, you got in your own car and drove home trying to process the days events.

Why had he smirked at you? Was he judging or had Tara been right about him having feelings for you? But it didn't make sense because in order to like someone, you would have to know them. You knew nothing about eddie munson and he definitely knew nothing about you, or did he? You let out a heavy sigh and forced yourself to focus on the road.

As soon as you got home, you went straight to your room and started studying. You had already gotten rid of one boy, you certainly didn't need to think about another, especially from one interaction. What is wrong with you? Pulling out all of your notebooks, you were determined to distract your mind when you notcied your english notes weren't returned. Tara. You shook your head and gave a soft chuckle as you opened your history notes and started to go through them. History was your favorite subject so it wasn't difficult for you to remember lessons from it. You went through pretty fast and studied half of your science notes as well before you crashed from exhasution. Thoughts of school, eddie, and jason fled from your brain as sleep took over your body.

Thankfully your alarm was set to wake you up at the same time everyday on weekdays because you slept the rest of the day and through the night until it was time for school again. When you were fully awake, you turned off the alarm and noticed the lights had been turned off and a blanket was pulled over you seeing as you were on top of your comforter. Your mom must have come in late last night to check on you.

Your morning routine stayed the same and soon enough, you were back at school and in your first class. Anxiousness filled your body as you realized you would more than likely have to see Jason today. After his outburtst yesterday, you weren't sure if he would leave you alone or not. You could take Eddie up on his offer but the truth was you didn't need protection or help. You could handle yourself and if anything, it would be tara beating his ass.

Your name being called from the roster pulled you from your thoughts and you muttered a 'here'. First class was homeroom so it was more like a free period. Most teachers let you do whatever you wanted in homeroom as long as you didn't get too loud. But today the teacher wanted you to get in pairs to discuss finals and assignments so you were on the right track.

You suddenly remembered eddie was in this class and subtly turned your head to see if he was there and sure enough he was in the same seat. Before yesterday you typically wouldn't have cared where he was considering he was just like any other student but after what he did for you, it was like you wanted to know more about him. His eyes met yours and raised his eyebrows up. "Wanna be partners?" You flushed and stammered a bit before clearing your throat. "Uh yeah sure." You hadn't expected that, not this early and soon. But you would humor it. What's the worst that could happen? Just as you were about to move, he got up and sat in the chair next to you. He had nothing with him but a notebook and a pencil. You were slightly confsued as to where he kept all of his work but that wasn't really important right now.

Before talk about finals and school, you had something else you wanted to discuss with him. "I wanted to thank you again for yesterday. I don't know if you were the only one to notice but you were the only person who did something." He breathed out heavily but not out of annoyance or stress, it was more like he was thinking about what you said and the events that took place just yesterday morning. "It was really no problem. Just did what I knew was right."

For some reason, that comment upset you in a way. Almost as if what had happened wasn't important or just simply not enough to talk about. But maybe he just didn't know what to say so you changed the subject. "I did have a question though. What did you mean when you said you knew more about me than I thought you did?"m The question had been presenting itself in your brain since yesterday. He half smiled and cleared his throat, tapping his pencil on the desk. ""It means that I watch you or observe, yeah that's less creepy." The admittance shocked you. What was so interesting about you? "Word flies fast in this god forskaen school. Just so happens people talk good about you and we've talked a handful of times. Let's just say Carver never desevred you." You felt unsure on how to take that comment in considering it had been said with such respect and genuineness but also not something you expected from the "bad boy".

"Thank you. That means a lot." You decided to go with the simple but grateful response and tried to move on beofore the awkwardness set in. "Um, so did you want to compare notes ? I'm so stressed for the finals." He gave you a look you couldn't comprhend that laid between awe and humor. "You really are a good girl aren't you?" You blinked a couple of times trying to understand whre he was going with that question. "I'm not sure what you mean. I just want to pass. Don't you?" He sighed and leaned his head onto his hand. "Well of course but I'm too far behind. The finals would let me pass though if I got just a good enough grade but I doubt it." So the rumors were true. He really didn't do school work that often but why? There was another question that had always kept you curious. "Did you get held back?" The words left your lips before you could fully process it. Your hand instinctively went over your abrasive mouth. "I'm so sorry. I have no idea why I just said that." He chuckled and shrugged, leaning forward. "it's not a secret sweetheart. Yes I did. No reason to hide it. Is that a problem?"

You shook your head, mouth parting slightly before speaking. "No no! Of course not. It's honestly none of my business. Look, I have notes for every class to help me study for the finals. Did you maybe want me to help you study for the next couple of weeks so you have a chance to pass?" He stared at you, a puzzled look crossing his face. "you would do that? Won't your reputation be ruined?" The comment felt like a slap to the face and went a whole different direction from the conversation that was just had, the dissappointment flooding your body. "I don't have a reputation and even if I did, that went over a cliff the moment I ended it with my mentally abusive boyfriend, okay? If you don't want my help, you can just say that." The bell rung at that moment which was perfect timing to make an exit. You gathered your things and got up quickly, trying to leave the classroom before anything else could be said. Maybe Eddie Munson was just like people said after all. What had you said or done to provoke a response like that?

As you reached the doorway, you felt a hand wrap around your wrist causing you to look back. "wait. I'm sorry. That was me being a dick. I-" You pulled your wrist away. "You think?" He pulled you off to the side and looked down at you. "It came off the wrong way. I didn't mean it like that. I just mean that you're a nice girl and people like you and well people don't like me" You sighed and looked at the ground for a couple of seconds before looking him in the eye. "I can make my own decisions and hang out with or help whoever I want. If people had a problem with that, not my issue." He pursed his lips and a look between embarrasment and awkwardness covered his features. "You're right. I shouldn't have said it and I'm sorry. If it's any consolation, I would like your help."

He seemed like he was being sincere and giving him a second chance was something a lot of people neglected to do. Being treated the way he is would cause you to build a wall and that was something you could understand. "Okay fine. But say anything like that again, you can forget it." He gave a wry smile and nodded once. "Duly noted. So where should we meet? Your place?" You shook your head quickly. "No. My mom will question the hell out of you and I would rather not have to endure an iterrogation myself. Either a public place or your place?" You questioned, curiousity peeking at the edges indicating you were wanting to know where he lived.

“I live in a trailer park so not sure if you would want to be somewhere like that.” Confusion took over your features as you took in his words. Was he embarrassed about where he lived? “I’m not one to care or judge where people live? I don’t mind coming to yours.” He blinked and pulled his head back, surprised that you had no hesitation about it. “Oh okay. Well I guess you can come around, say 5?” You nodded and smiled with your lips. “Sounds good. I gotta get to class. Bye Eddie.” You left the room before he could respond and walked quickly to your next class trying to understand how everything was changing around you in just a day.

🖤🖤

The rest of the day went by pretty fast and the classrooms you shared with Eddie were spent talking about a bunch of random things. He was really easy to have a conversation with and it kept your attention. Plus he also happened to be funny and quick with his responses. It was a completely different story than the one people had been telling and it was refreshing to have someone listen to you, really listen to you.

After class, Eddie walked you to your car and stood with you for a couple of minutes just talking. Tara came up, eyes slightly widened as if she was trying to comprehend something. Eddie shifted uncomfortably and gave her a tight lipped smile. “I guess I’ll see you later?” You cursed yourself knowing she was going to question everything as soon as he walked away. “Yeah see you later.” No point in trying to hide it.

As soon as he left ear shot, Tara hit your arm. “Not gonna talk again huh? And see you later? What in the hell does that mean?” You deadpanned and crossed your arms. “You never gave my notes back.” She squinted her eyes in annoyance and grab the notes out of her backpack and handed them to you. “Don’t change the subject. Tell me everything.”

So you did. Every detail was shared including the study partner part and the entire time, Tara was squealing and dropping her jaw at the most mundane information. That’s who she was though. Excited about life and you couldn’t help but love her for it. “Okay that’s a lot to take in. I’m not against it though.” You adjusted your backpack on your shoulder and shifted to your other foot. “I’m so glad I have your approval.” She scoffed and waved her hand in the air, a dismissal. “You know what I mean. I’m glad you’re getting back out there though. Just didn’t expect it to be so soon.”

“Wow. Okay yeah no. Definitely not getting back out there. I’m just helping him study. I am not ready for another relationship.” You admitted. "I am literally just trying to help him get through the rest of the year." She groaned very dramatically and pretended to look intersted in her nails. "Yeah okay. We will just pretend that he doesn't have a massive crush on you and that I don't see you making eyes at him." You made strangly hands at her and made a sound through gritted teeth which got you a concerned look from people around you that were also lingering in the parking lot. "He doesn't have a crush on me and I don't make eyes at him. Yes he's attractive but I just got out of a very toxic relationship and I need to focus on school. Hence why I am helping him focus on school. If something happens to come from it, then it happens. Until then, he is my study partner and...a friend." The conversation didn't last much longer as both of you had to get home. It was getting close to 4 and you needed to be over eddie's place at 5.

Once you got home, you changed into some shorts and a V neck and the time flew by and soon enough you were back in your car headining over to the trailer park. You knew where it was considering Hawkins was a small town and you just so happened to pass it every once in a while. It took about 10 minutes to get there and soon enough, you parked and got out of the car looking around. Nervousness hit you as you saw a couple people outside staring at you, some giving you dirty looks. People like you who had it better than most weren't really welcome around this part of town.

You didn't blame them knowing how people treated the lower class but it still didn't settle the anxiousness creeping up. One guy jumped up and walked over to you, footsteps heavy and a beer bottle in his hand. "What's a pretty little thing like you doing around here? Looking for some trouble?" Your eyes widened and you took a small step back. "N-No of course not. My friend Eddie-" His sharp laugh cut you off. "Eddie Munson? Nah you better go on before trouble finds you." He closed in on you again when you saw Eddie running up and grabbing the mans shoulder. "Dan, it's okay. I invited her here. You okay?" He grabbed your hand and pulled you towards him, walking you away from the scene. "Sorry about him. He-he means well. Most people who come here to see me usually start shit."

Although you were still a little shaken up, you nodded and let him lead you into his trailer. "it's okay. I understand. He has a right to be catious." You looked around his place and it was actually really nice in here. Of course it was small but it was cozy and cleaned up well. You noticed the broom and dustpan out and the tied up trash bag and realized he must have been cleaning before you got here. How sweet.

He noticed you looking around and shifted on his feet uncomfortably not knowing what you were thinking. "Well thank you for understanding. It's not...the easiest living around these parts but it does its best. Sorry about the clutter and the smallness of it." He chuckled awkwardly while he fidgeted with one of his rings. "Don't apologize. I like it in here." You shrugged off your backpack and sat down on the couch and took in everything around you. He only had a couple of picutre frames up with him and what looked like his dad or maybe uncle? There were a couple of coasters scattered around and a couple of random objects. A dice, an empty glass, and a notebook. You felt the cushions shift and you looked over to see that he had sat next to you. "Thanks." He smiled softly. You nodded and pulled your backpack into your lap, digging some contents out. "Of course. Um I was thinking we could start with math since it's the hardest." He agreed and the studying started. It was rough at first because he was a lot further behind than you thought but he started to get the hang of it after about an hour of explaining different things. Between snack breaks and time outs, it was going pretty smoothly and he caught on really fast. You had him do a couple of test questions and when he got all but one right, you smiled and high fived him. "I bet that if we do it like this for the other subjects, you'll get a passing grade!"

Eddie's face lit up and he let out a gasp of air that sounded like relief. "I literally cannot thank you enough. I know we still have a ton to do and I know it's taking time away from you but I don't know if i even would have tried if you didn't offer." You gathered all of your things back into your backpack and zipped it up giving a soft smile. "It's really no problem. You helped me so I am returning the favour. I do have to get home though but I'm pretty much free all the time after school so we can do this whenever." He stood up with you and walked you to your car which you appreiacted greatly. "Be safe getting home." He opened your drivers door and shut it after you got in and said, "I will. Thank you." You drove home and thought about how tonight was the first night in a long time that you felt fully free and happy. The smiled that took over your face remained the rest of the car ride home.

🖤🖤

For the next couple of weeks, you helped Eddie study almost everyday after school until you were positive he was confident in all of the subjects. There were bumps in the road and frustrations in the air but you were patient with him and he was respectful towards you. After the first week and a half of doing this, you started feeling nervous around him which wasn’t something you were used to. He was just so nice and funny and definitely wasn’t bad to look at. You were a little scared of catching feelings considering everything that happened with Jason and also because it hadn’t been that long since the relationship was over. You had talked to Tara about it and for the first time, she actually gave advice that made sense.

She had said “how you feel about someone isn’t something you can control. There’s no time limits or expectations on how soon you can fall for someone. It just happens. I wouldn’t stress about it. You guys are becoming really good friends and if something happens, then it happens. Don’t force it but don’t push it away.”

It helped you think a lot on the situation and she was right. How you were starting to feel about Eddie wasn’t something you could control. Spending time with him and having real conversations had been what set the feelings off in the first place. You were skeptical about if he had feelings for you or not. The way he looked at you and the way he brushed you hair behind your ears. The way he defended you against Jason anytime he tried to make a comment.

It was Sunday and finals started tomorrow. You wanted to help Eddie go over everything one more time to make sure he was prepared. And maybe because you just wanted to see him. You had shown up at his trailed, unannounced. You hoped he wouldn’t be busy or upset but when you knocked and the door opened, he stood there with that beautiful smile on his face. “What are you doing here?” He stepped aside as you walked through the door. “I was wondering if you wanted to go over everything really quick one more time. Sorry I showed up with no warning. I guess I could have called your landline.” He shut the door and ran a hand through his hair. “Oh no it's okay. You're welcome here anytime. You know that. And I would actually really appreciate going over it one more time. My nerves are running high for tomorrow but I think I’ll pass.” You smiled and shrugged your jacket off, laying it across the back of his couch. “I know you will. You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for, Eddie Munson.”

He walked over and hovered over you, causing your stomach to flip. “Well you’re more thoughtful than you give yourself credit for. And also smarter.” He chuckled. You grinned and shoved his shoulder. “Oh hush.” Your cheeks turned slightly red and you watched as the smirk grew on his face. He sat down on the couch and his eyes followed you as you took a seat next to him. "I stayed up late the past few nights to make these flashcards so I'm really hoping they work." You chuckled and bit your lip. He smiled and cleared his throat, staring right at you. You tried to focus on the flashcards and the words written on them so you didn't stutter over your words.

You began using the flashcards and you had to admit, they were helping you too. It was actually really fun to go through them and it was def because you were doing it with eddie. It went back and fourth with one person asking the question and the other answering. For some unknown reason, both of you were cracking up at this ridiculousness of it all. You were answering most of them right and when you finally got one wrong, Eddie stood up and pointed. "Ha! You did not get that right!" You gasped and stood up alongside him and grabbed the card from his hand. "What? No way." You looked at the answer and pursed your lips. "I did in fact get that one wrong." He laughed and you flung the card at him. He scoffed and picked it up. "Sore loser."

"mmmm. Pretty sure I got more right than-" Your sentence got cut off as your scream replaced it when eddie suddenly picked you up and flung you over his shoulder. "what was that?" You hit his back and laughed. "Put me down right now!" He walked over to the couch and gently tossed your onto the cushions. You giggled and breathed out, the air blowing some of your hair away from your face. He stood above you, looking down. His smile faded slowly, the look on his face indicating he was deep in thought. "You okay?" You sat up pulling your knees to your chest to give him room to sit which he did. "yeah. I just uh- he never deserved you, you know?" Your lips parted and you shifted on the couch to where you were sitting directly next to him. "Who?" You knew who he was talking about but you wanted to hear him say it. "Jason. He never deserved anything about you and he's an idiot for not seeing the amazing girl that you are."

"That means a lot. Thank you but where is all this coming from?" He looked down at his rings and played with them for a second then let out a small laugh. He looked back up at you and shook his head. "Fuck it." He grabbed your face with both hands and kissed you. You were taken aback for a second but then reality set in and you kissed him back, making a sound of content. He carressed your cheeks with his thumbs and your hands went into his curls. After about a minute, you both pulled back to get some air. "Wow. That was not what I was expecting." Your fingers grazed over your lips still feeling his own against yours. "If you couldn't tell from that, I really like you. Not just because of all the help you've given me but just getting to know you has been incredible."

You raised your eyebrows. "And here I thought you knew so much about me from observations." He rolled his eyes and grinned. "You know what i mean, you little shit." You giggled and leaned into him causing him to lean back into the couch, your head on his chest. "I just mean the real you. Not the one from the narratives from other people. But I've always had a small crush on you so..." You looked up at him and your mouth dropped. "Oh my god. Tara was right. You were into me."

He had his arm draped over your shoulder, fingers barely touching your skin, a tingly feeling going down your arm. "Yeah yeah. Tara is also an observationist." A small smile was on his face. "Well I was stupid for not truly noticing you." He scrunched his eyebrows and licked his lips. "Nah. Jason had you wrapped around his finger. He was a controlling dick." You pulled your face up and kissed him softly. "None of that was real. That's clear to me now. I don't even think I had real feelings for him. I just thought I did because everyone wanted him and he went after me. You, however, I do have real feelings for."

"Well good because he's gonna be so livid." He laughed which caused you to laugh. "Oh fucking well. According to you, he lost a great girl." He played with your hair and made a sound of agreement. "A very great girl."

The rest of the night was spent just talking and laughing until it got dark and you had to head home for dinner. He had just walked you out to your car and you were standing next to the open drivers door. "I had a great time tonight. We got a lot done and killed two birds with one stone." He grinned and grabbed your wrist, this time you didn't pull away, and pulled you close to him before kissing you, even better than the first one. "Goodnight, sweetheart." You bit your lip and slid into the drivers seat. "Goodnight, Eddie." He shut your door and you drove off, seretonin filling your brain. You had fallen for a boy, the 'freak' of hawkins high. Your mom would flip but it was all worth it and you don't regret one single thing.

ahhhhhh. I had so much trouble writing an ending for this story lol. I have so many other ideas for a part two if that's something anyone would want! I am so sorry I have been gone for so long, I am trying to get back into writing and this is a start!

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x female reader #hawkins high #hellfire club

76 notes · View notes

ginnsinabin · 1 year

Text

Night time with wrench headcannons

+Gen neutral

-If you’ve been with wrench for a while, he’ll feel pretty comfortable in taking his mask of to sleep with you if he hasn’t already around the place you two occupy

-If its a fairly newish thing but not so new to be sleeping in the same bed with you than he’ll be a little more reluctant and shimmy around the subject until it’s brought up

-All he needs is some reassurance that his insecurities are not shared by you and he’ll feel comfortable enough to take it off right before bed

-Wrench uses you as pretty much a body pillow don't argue with me I'm right

-There's no way this man of spikes doesn’t rely on you as a glorified night time stuffed animal

-Whenever you or him are on a mission wrench will get absolutely no proper sleep if any, you've absolutely ruined his ability to sleep (let’s be honest you really improved it)

-Whenever you two come back from a time away, even if it’s just a day or two, this man will hold you in a steel grip for the entire night

-If you’re lucky you can maybe squeeze a pillow between the two of you if you want space but other than that there's not a single inch that separates the two of you

-Get comfy cause there's no pulling out of this punk’s grip. Will seriously drag/carry you to the bathroom if you even manage to get him up and out of the bed

-Has definitely referred to you as teddy human

-Wrench talks quite a bit in his sleep of various things happening in his absolutely abstract dreams

-Try to talk back and sometimes you’ll get some slightly coherent replies

-For being a man of nothing but chaos and destruction he is a heavy sleeper

-Seriously would have to either flip the bed or drop a nuke to wake this dead man

-If you get him awake prepare for some grumpy and groggy whining from being woken up

-The building could be on fire and he’d still give you some attitude

-If he miraculously wakes before you he’ll still cuddle you to him and either past time till you wake up on his phone or will simply watch you sleep (a bit creepy but an endearing kid of creepy)

(A/N dont judge my crap writing its been years since i’ve done this and i got a kick of motivation to make this at 12 am lol Hope you enjoyed or at least tolerated this)

#watch dogs #watch dogs 2 #wrench #wrench wd2 #wrench x reader #watch dogs x reader #wrench x y/n #wrench x you

219 notes · View notes

circus4apsycho8 · 6 months

Text

haunted house. | kai & reader

𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝟻/𝟽 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚞𝚜' 𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚓𝚊𝚐𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚝 (𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘 + 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝).

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗-𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚐𝚘𝚛𝚎

This always happens.

First, a frustrated sigh escapes you as you try to shift in your bed, everything feeling off. Certainly not suited for sleep, much to your dismay.

“And to think, I was about passed out on the couch,” you mumble, rolling your eyes as you lay there. Maybe if you stay still, you’ll get tired?

The answer to the question is never revealed, though, because moments later your phone screen lights up. You turn towards it, gently tugging the charger out before checking it.

Kai: hey want to go out tonight?

Kai: lloyd and i were gonna go to a haunted house tonight, but he got sick last minute and everyone else is busy

Kai: (i think hes faking it bc hes scared tho lol)

Kai: i already bought tickets so if u wanna come its covered

Kai: i know its kinda late tho so no worries if u cant

A haunted house?! What better way to get spooky on such a wonderful fall night? You shoot upright, stumbling to get out of bed as you respond:

You: I’m in!! Thank you :))))

Kai: np, ill be there in 20

With that, you start changing, thoughts drifting to the thoughts of what nightmares the haunted house could behold. It’s a bummer that more of your friends can’t attend, but you’re still excited to at least go with Kai.

Besides, you haven’t hung out with the Ninja of Fire lately, and you find yourself missing his hotheaded nature sometimes.

Soon enough, you’re waiting by your door anxiously, belongings clutched in your hands. When a brisk knock emanates from your door, you force yourself to wait a few moments before opening it. Can’t seem too eager, right?

“Hey!” Kai greets, grinning at you as you smile back at his. His brown hair is spiked, but a bit messier than usual, and he’s dressed in civilian clothing: a long-sleeved red shirt and dark jeans to match.

“Hi!” you repeat, stepping out of your apartment before locking the door. Once that’s done, you take a moment to give Kai a quick hug. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah, now that you mention it, it has been,” he agrees, gently returning the embrace as you inhale the scent of his cologne. “I brought my bike. I hope that’s okay.”

“Works for me!” you chirp, following him down the stairs. “Which one are we going to?”

“It’s called Ninjago Nightmare Manor. They’re hosting it inside of an abandoned building this year to really add to the mood.”

“That sounds so cool!” you reply, the two of you making it outside. The chilly night air embraces you as Kai hands you a red helmet. The article matches his red bike, complete with a cheesy flame design on it.

You snort upon seeing it, glancing at Kai as you decide to mess with him: “I bet you get all the girls with that flame on your bike.”

Kai raises an eyebrow at you, picking up his own helmet. “Wow. Bullying me already?”

“Do you expect anything less of me?” you retort as he straddles the bike, swiping up the kickstand with his heel.

“Just stop talking and get on the bike,” he says, settling his hands on the bars as the engine whirs to life. You just giggle and climb on behind him, making sure you flick the visor down before gaining a strong grip around his waist.

“Ready?” he calls, glancing back towards you.

“Yeah!” you say, pressing your head against his shoulder so you can have a good view of the street.

With that, Kai takes off. You sigh in relief as you watch the dark street pass in a blur, ears filled with the sound of the wind and engine as Kai expertly steers the motorcycle.

Chills seep through the fabric of your shirt, beckoning a bunch of goosebumps to form on your skin. Kai’s body heat is enough to keep you from completely freezing, though.

A few minutes pass as he steers through the empty streets of Ninjago City, eventually leaving the city and speeding down an old, gravel road. You notice an old building approaching along the side of the road situated next to a makeshift parking lot made on the grass.

Kai turns into the lot, finding a suitable spot before shutting the motorcycle off. You sport an exhilarated grin as Kai steps off, taking a second to unstrap your helmet before pulling it off.

The Master of Fire takes both of your helmets, setting them on his spot before holding his hand out to you. You take it, allowing him to help you off.

You can’t help but feel a bit shaky after the experience. “That was fun!”

“Woah, you okay?” he questions after seeing you wobble a little bit.

“Yeah, just give me a second,” you say, steadying yourself with his hand before releasing it. “Okay, let’s go!”

“Looks like the line isn’t terribly long,” Kai notes as the two of you head towards a small tent containing two folding tables, where a few employees are seated behind laptops. “I guess we got here at a good time.”

You take a second to observe the building. The windows are decorated with bloody handprints, foggy glass, and other Halloween-themed decorations. A few of the staff members mill about the front, most of them in costumes.

“They nailed the vibe,” you comment as Kai turns to look at the building. “And whoever decided to host it here deserves a raise.”

“I wonder if it’ll be scarier than last year,” Kai adds, the two of you getting in line behind another couple.

“I hope so. They always get super creative with their characters!” you add, studying some of the costumes that are present at the entrance. You already see someone dressed up as Michael Myers holding a metal detector at the entrance.

A few moments later, the couple at the ticket table leaves, leaving you and Kai to step up to the table.

“Hey guys. Got your tickets, or need to buy ‘em?” greets the employee, smiling tiredly up to the two of you.

“I’ve got them right here,” Kai answers, fishing the tickets out of his pocket before handing them over.

The employee takes them, stashing them in a box before holding a stamp up. “Perfect, let me just stamp the back of your hands really quick.”

She does Kai’s first, then yours as you offer your hand. Once done, you pull it back to see a cutesy, green skull that glows in the dark.

“Alright, and you guys can just wait over there while we gather the next party to enter. An employee will be with you once there’s enough people.”

“Cool, thank you!” you say as the two of you make your way towards a small clearing with a bunch of folding chairs set up. About seven other people are milling about, all associating in their own little groups or pairs.

It isn’t until a group of three joins that an employee comes over, briefly going over the rules before guiding the ten of you over to the entrance, where Michael Myers scans for metal before allowing you all inside.

Already, you can see a faux fog and bright colors contrasting against the dark setting. Cobwebs and spiders line the hall, leading to the line area where two women are waiting. They’re dressed as Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy, both chatting quietly amongst themselves.

You and Kai make your way up to the front, watching as the two women silently check to see that everyone’s hands are stamped. Once they’re done, they instruct you all to watch the video depicting the rules displayed on the TV above their counter.

As you watch, though, you can’t help but notice that the Harley Quinn dressed employee is standing a little too close for comfort and is staring right at you. Knowing it’s part of the act, you do your best to ignore it with a small smile on your face as the video continues.

Once it ends, she asks: “Do you like Christmas?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Not as great as Halloween, though,” you reply, watching as her stare narrows into a frown, still looking at you.

A few painfully long seconds later, she moves to Kai next, doing the same thing. “How ‘bout you? Do you like Christmas?”

“Yeah,” Kai replies as she steps a little too close to him.

“Good,” she comments, staring at him for a few more seconds. “I like Christmas too.”

“Cool...” Kai trails off, clearly not knowing what else to say.

She goes to make the other guests uncomfortable, leaving you and Kai to chat quietly amongst yourselves while you both wait. Fortunately, the woman dressed as Poison Ivy steps over to open the door soon after, gesturing for you all to enter.

With that, you and Kai send excited glances at each other before entering.

At first, you’re walking through a dim room lit with stereotypical haunted house candles on one side of the wall. It soon transitions into a wider room, barely lit by blue and purple lights. Located here is a woman dressed up as a bloodied doll, the room themed like a children’s room and lined with creepy dolls. Some of their eyes are either missing or replaced with buttons.

“Stay and play with us !” the woman calls, holding one of the dolls up to her face. “We won’t bite!”

“I hate dolls like this,” Kai mutters. “Reminds me of one of Nya’s old toys. It always creeped me out when I was a kid.”

You chuckle, shrugging in response. “C’mon, it’s not that bad!”

The hallway narrows, guiding the two of you into something resembling a psychotic doctor’s office. Sure enough, a large man dressed as a dentist is inside, holding a pair of tongs baring a tooth.

He approaches you, eyeing you with an unsettling expression as he taps the tongs together a few times. “Your teeth are pretty... I want them...”

“How about mine?” Kai questions.

“Yours are stinky,” replies the dentist without missing a beat.

“What?” Kai questions, pretending to be offended. “Rude!”

“Give me them molars, little lady!” roars the man as the two of you exit the room. “GIVE ‘EM”

“Their costumes are super cool,” you note to Kai. The hallway narrows even more, now complete with sharp corners. “I wish we had more time to look at the little details they add.”

Next up is a killer clown circus room, with three actors running around with fake weapons. The room is lit under a blacklight, making all of the colors glow vibrantly as the clowns roar with vicious laughter.

“YOU’LL FLOAT TOO!” they taunt between laughs.

“The killer clown is kind of overrated,” Kai mumbles.

“Agreed.”

Thankfully, the next room is filled with a little more excitement. A gore-filled scene awaits the two of you, complete with fake limbs and decapitated limbs scattered about the area. What really completes the scene, though, is a tall, buff man bearing a fake chainsaw and a serial killer mask.

He ‘revs’ the chainsaw, causing realistic noises to emanate from the prop. Your eyes widen as he raises it, immediately sprinting towards you.

You squeal, the act catching you off guard as you make a dash for the exit, Kai right behind you but also not fazed.

“You should have seen your face!” Kai yells, laughing in response.

You roll your eyes, pouting as you both work your way through a weird hallway, this one with a bubbly fabric in place of normal walls. The two of you have to swipe your way through, the sounds of screams and wails of pain echoing across the room.

Kai randomly gives a high-pitched screech, making you laugh as you scream in return for no reason.

“Why are we screaming?” you wonder, finally breaking through the fabric and entering a normal hallway.

“Because we can!” he answers. “Oh, look down there!”

Unfortunately, at the end of the hallway lies a seated witch animatronic. Its face is disfigured, mouth twisted into a gnarly grin while its lifeless eyes stare at the two of you dully. Strung about its torso are tattered and bloodied robes. In its left hand is a mystical but monochrome staff.

It’s right next to the exit, meaning that you’ll have to pass it in order to proceed.

“Is it gonna jump at us?” you wonder, eyes widening as you study the figure. It doesn’t look like it’s turned on, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t other means of activating it.

“That’s why they put it there - to instill tension in your brain,” Kai replies, turning towards you with a smirk. “It’s not actually on.”

“What if it’s motion activated or something?” you mumble, still skeptical.

“C’mon! Even if it, is the worst it’ll do is pop out at us.”

“Oh really? Then you go first if you’re so brave!” you retort, pushing your way behind Kai.

“Fine!” he huffs, leading the way.

You peer around Kai’s shoulders a few times, breathing a sigh of relief once the two of you are through the door.

“See? I told you,” Kai replies with a smirk. “No jump scare there.”

“Whatever,” you mumble, tone lighthearted.

The last room the two of you get to experience is that depicting the dead bride trope. Thankfully, this one is a bit tamer – an actress sits to the side, woefully picking her eternal bouquet filled with sparing blue petals. You can see fallen petals scattered about the floor, their soft, blue glow a contrast against the dreary, gray Victorian style wallpaper.

The actress, complete with a zombie bride costume, solemnly mumbles underneath her breath, paying no attention to either of you. You can catch whispers of her voice behind the faint screams and chainsaw noises emanating from the other rooms.

“...he loves me...loves me not...” she mumbles, tossing petals onto the floor without a care. Her voice is so fragile that it almost makes you forget that she’s simply acting.

“If you have to ask yourself whether he loves you, then he’s not worth it,” Kai snaps, expression blank as the woman glances up towards him.

“Yeah. Was he the one who murdered you?” you play along, glancing at the actress for an answer.

She remains quiet for a moment, tilting her head before nodding.

“Then murder him back!” you suggest.

“Perhaps I could...” she murmurs, trailing off before glancing at you once more. “Perhaps I will.”

With that, the two of you exit the main portion of the haunted house.

“’Murder him back’? Really?” Kai teases, shoving your shoulder gently.

“Shut up. I was trying to get into it,” you reply with a snicker.

With that, the two of you make your way towards the stairwell, immediately making your way towards the descent.

That is, until you start to hear soft footsteps behind you. A quick glance behind you reveals an employee sneaking up behind Kai.

You immediately realize what he’s about to do, deciding to engage Kai again to provide another distraction.

“Hey, want to get food once we’re out of here?” you wonder, smiling smally at him as he nods.

“Actually, yeah, that sounds great. I was thinking we could grab something at Chen’s-”

“HAPPY HALLOWEEN!” screeches the employee from behind Kai, who jumps a little bit with a startled yell. You immediately burst out into laughter, Kai’s expression souring.

“Were you just trying to distract me?” he questions.

“Yeah, but that was also a serious question,” you reply, both of you bidding goodnight to the employees before heading downstairs. “Want to get food?”

“Yeah, let’s do it,” he adds as the two of you make your back towards his motorcycle, the haunted house fading into the horizon a few minutes later.

#ninjago x reader #kai x reader #kai smith x reader #kai smith & reader #kai & reader

58 notes · View notes

pedrostylez · 8 months

Text

Something Else- pt. 4

pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!reader

chapter summary: As you learn things about Frankie, you wonder how much Anna realizes how she affected you. Frankie is adamant about getting to know you more, exposing you to his life in ways Anna hasn’t been exposed to Santiago’s

rating: 18+ (no minors please) Explicit

word count: 7k

warnings etc: Frankie w/o a daughter, triple frontier movie plot has happened, protected p in v, oral (m and f receiving) dirty talk, breast play, eating, mentions of missing meals, jealousy, friendship dynamics, fluff, pet names, friendships, jealousy, competition, drinking, 2nd person pov, no use of y/n

A/N: Happy Frankie Friday! I hope you're just as excited as I am for their first date :) Things will continue to get heavier as we progress, and I might start putting out drabbles of back stories? Like Anna's reactions or Santi's observations? Idk, let me know what you think about that before I do it lol. Please support by commenting, sending me thoughts, and reblogging. I appreciate every single one of you who reads this!

Taglist: @meveispunk, @jitterbugs927, @sullyosully @3sriracha @alltheseperfectimperfections @nandan11 @jake-g-lockley, @theanothersherlockian, @anoverwhelmingdin, @guelyury, @harriedandharassed, @wintersquirrel @scarletthefierce @paleidiot

You’ve been dreading seeing Anna.

She came to your job to “just buy a coffee” to set up a girl’s night with you, and it was forced beyond belief.

You really do love her like a sister, and sometimes sisters need space. You put on that face that your mother taught you early on; smile and deal with it.

“I was thinking we could watch something silly, like just a couple episodes of a cartoon or something?” She asks at the end of the coffee bar, sipping from her matcha latte, that she requested you make because you “make it best.” Oat milk, a couple pumps of vanilla, light ice. You glance up at her as you wipe down the counter–even in just a t-shirt and jeans she looks effortlessly put together. Her hair is down, soft curls framing her face with a dewiness you’ve never been able to pull off.

You sigh, setting the rag back in the sanitizing water. “Sure, that sounds okay. Do we want to cook?” You suggest, trying to show you are putting in effort.

The bell above the door rings as you continue the conversation with her, smiling at all the right times and helping move the conversation along. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a hat, and whip your head over to see Frankie and Benny, Santiago already coming over to Anna.

“Hey!” Anna squeals, hugging around Santi. “What are you doing here?”

“You said you were going to stop by, and we just got done at the hangar so we thought to pick something up,” Santiago says quietly, looking up at you and giving you a knowing smirk. “Frankie wanted to have a drink made by his girl anyway.”

You can feel your face flush red at the implication, looking over at Frankie’s smile. Santiago seemed to be just as forward as Anna, suggesting that you were “Frankie’s girl” even though you and Frankie had only been around each other a few times. Benny is watching the interaction, standing back to get the full picture. His eyes flick to yours briefly as he gives you a nod of acknowledgment.

Frankie is at the counter, tilting his head as you come over. You’re suddenly nervous, wiping your hands against your apron that has chocolate sauce splattered on it. Ugh. “Uh, hi.” You say quietly, clearing your throat.

You can hear Anna tittering, laughing with Santi and it makes you feel more embarrassed. Like you have an audience and you can’t escape this show that they have decided to watch– “You look beautiful, hermosa.” Frankie says quietly so no one else can hear it, eyes resting on you with not a care in the world.

If you could blush more, you would at this very moment. You clear your throat, shaking your head. “What can I get you, Frankie?”

“Are we still on for this Friday?” He asks, smirking at you as you look down at the counter. You go to look over at Benny, Santi, and Anna, but Frankie pulls you back with his words. “Don’t worry about them. Just you and me right?” He’s just as quiet as before, smiling at you as you nod in confirmation. “Can you make me what you make for yourself?”

You sigh in relief, that Frankie isn’t asking for something overly sweet, or just black coffee. He wants what you make yourself; so that he can see you. You mark the cup with his order even though he doesn’t know what it is and look over at Benny. “Would you like anything?”

Benny shakes his head no, giving you a soft smile that matches Frankie’s. You get to work making Frankie’s drink; iced, easy, and a little sweet. It looks scarier than it is, with such little cream in it, but it isn’t needed. When you go to hand it to him, Santiago and Benny are bickering about what they did today. You look over to Frankie who is already looking at you, rolling his eyes at his friends arguing. “Ignore them.”

“No, I want her opinion actually,” Benny says, turning towards you. You widen your eyes, looking at Frankie across the counter and back to Benny. “Who do you think is a better fighter? Pope here, or Will?”

Santiago scoffs, leaning against Anna as he has an arm wrapped around her. “How is that fair? She doesn’t know how either of us fight.”

“Why are you fighting?” You ask, stopping their bickering for them to look at you. Anna smirks, taking another sip of her drink.

“Just, which one looks like it, no one is fighting,” Frankie says, leaning against the countertop. He has yet to take a sip of the drink you made him.

“Except me, I’m the professional.” Benny concedes. “But that’s why I’m not an option.”

You pause, unsure if you knew that about Benny. “Wait, you’re a professional fighter?” You turn to Frankie, who’s smiling at you.

“You didn’t know that?” Santiago exclaims, looking over at Frankie. “Next you’re going to say he didn’t tell you he’s a pilot.”

Your head whips to Frankie, who is still staring at you, eyes now wide and smiling bigger. “You’re a pilot?” You squeak out, listening to everyone laugh at you. It’s an irritating sound, one that is enhanced by Anna’s laugh–somehow she even knew?

Frankie must notice your nervousness, how you start to pull away at the sound of everyone laughing and reaches forward for your hand. “Hey, it hadn’t come up, and I only just got my license back.” He says quietly, eyes wide and open for you to read. “We just haven’t talked about it, right?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, giving a tight smile and nod. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right, sorry.”

He holds on to your hand, giving it a squeeze before letting go and continuing to watch you. He looks like he’s about to say something more but–“Don’t worry!” Anna screeches, jumping back at the sound and looking over at her. “They all don’t really talk about what they do. I only knew because Santi told me he was going to be in a helicopter today.” Anna tries to soothe, looking over at Frankie with a knowing smile that makes your face drop.

Your whole mask you had been wearing for Anna to play nice fades. “I’m so glad you know everything about him.” You say quietly, flicking your gaze to Frankie before turning around for the rag again. You close your eyes in frustration, not wanting to continue this back and forth anymore. You clear your throat, “I have to close up, guys. Can you leave?”

The silence is tense as everyone stops talking, shuffling of feet heading towards the door. When you look to the side, Frankie is still standing there, brows furrowed as he watches you. Anna stands just outside the door, oblivious to the change in mood as she kisses Santiago. “She doesn’t know anything about me, cariño.” Frankie states, watching you. You’re quick to look back at him after watching Santiago frown in your direction, looking down at Anna and asking a question.

You crack your neck, closing your eyes. The way Frankie listens to what you said and addresses it head-on, whether or not you meant the words makes you question if you should have said it. “I didn’t say that to upset you, Frankie.” You say quietly, holding your apron by the edge. It’s worn down here, where you grab it often.

“I’m not upset.” He tilts his head, watching you for another beat. “You are, though. What happened, just now?”

You shake your head, clearing your throat. “I don’t know.” You do know. Anna has just put in your head that she knows Frankie better than you. That she will always have the upper hand. That she–

“I only just got my flying license back because of a drug problem,” Frankie says abruptly, watching for your reaction.

You stop down your anxiety spiral, looking up to him. “Oh, I-I didn’t know that.” You whisper.

“Neither does Anna.” Frankie nods, licking his lips. “Pope, Benny, and Will know, because they helped me get it back. They won’t tell her- even Pope won’t. I don’t want Anna to know.”

You shake your head, widening your eyes. “I wouldn’t tell her–”

“I know you wouldn’t,” Frankie smiles, leaning forward. “I’m telling you because I trust you.” He reaches for your hand, pulling you towards the counter, and leans over to kiss your cheek. And just like that, Frankie’s serious switch has changed back to playful, smirking at you and looking at your lips. “Thank you for the coffee.” He whispers, giving you a wink before leaning away and taking a sip. As he’s walking away he nods appreciatively at the cup. “Holy shit, this is what you get? That’s delicious.”

Frankie is satisfied with how he left your workplace, sliding into his seat next to Benny after Pope said he would go with Anna back to her place. The two of them together were unaware to the rest of the world after brief questions if everything was alright, and it made Frankie upset for you. He takes another sip of the coffee you made him-some caramel-flavored dark drink that is sweet but strong.

“What happened back there?” Benny questions, pulling onto the road. He taps the steering wheel with his fingers, looking over at Frankie and then back at the dark street. He snatches Frankie’s cup and takes a sip of the coffee himself. “Wow, that is strong.”

“It’s good,” Frankie argues, feeling himself getting defensive for you. He sighs, shaking his head, “I don’t know. Anna and she have some issues, and anytime I try to get her to open up about it, she’s vague.” Frankie concedes, confiding in Benny. Benny was trustworthy for not telling Pope something that would in turn get back to you through Anna. He knew he wasn’t the only one that had noticed the tension. “She told me she hasn’t dated in a while because Anna interferes.”

Benny’s face scrunches in confusion. “What, like sabotaging it?”

“I don’t know.” Frankie shakes his head, looking out the window. He thinks back to hiding in your closet, watching your eyes glaze over with tears. “She…she said something that made her upset the other day. Something about leaving Pope.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Benny shakes his head, turning into Frankie’s driveway and shifting his body to look at him briefly. “She wasn’t like this before Anna planned on setting her up with you.”

Frankie doesn’t know what to do with that information, letting it bounce around in his head. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, shooting you a message, getting wrapped up in it to where he isn’t aware of his dazed-looking smile that Benny rolls his eyes at.

Dinner at my favorite spot on Friday?

Where’s your favorite spot?

It’s a surprise ;)

What should I wear?

He knows this shouldn’t make his heart speed up and his dick tighten in his pants; he just told you that he had a previous drug problem after you were spiraling from your friend’s comments. He knows you’re asking because you want to literally know what to wear to your date with him on Friday-but he can’t help but relive what happened over the weekend, stripping your top half and letting you feel–

“Earth to Frankie,” Benny says with a small smile, looking over at him before pulling into Frankie’s driveway. “Where are you taking her on Friday?”

Frankie sighs, shaking his head and sliding his phone back into his pocket. “I was thinking Berto’s, but I don’t want to bring her somewhere you guys will show up.” He says, giving a pointed look to Benny. “I need you to be quiet about it.”

Benny agrees easily, promising to not say a word as Frankie hops out of the vehicle, waving goodbye and stepping into his entry. When he finally gets to sit on his couch he brings his phone back out to respond to you.

Anything you want, hermosa. Casual, just relaxed type of date

He sighs, watching the bubbles of your pending response appear, tilting his head and waiting. He thinks you’re taking much longer than usual when it pops up that you’re now calling him. He answers quickly, not caring if he sounds desperate. “Hi.”

“Will you tell me what that means?” You laugh, the sound of your car alarm beeping at you to indicate you’ve locked it. You sound different than you did in the cafe–like you’ve moved past what has happened in there.

“Tell you what what means?” He questions, smiling to himself and leaning further into the couch.

“Hermosa? And cariño, since we are on the subject.” You say, your accent not matching even close to what the pronunciation is supposed to be.

He chuckles, scratching at his forehead. “I thought you knew.” He muses, listening to your giggle and the sound of your door opening. “Did you just get home?”

“Yes.” You sound tired, ready to lie down at any moment. “I have to clean up for Anna to be here tomorrow.”

He hums again, looking at the clock. “Have you eaten already?”

“No.” You yawn, a muted thump heard through the phone. “I think I’m going to lay down and maybe nap, then clean up.”

“I’ll order you food.” He says, putting you on speaker and ordering from the same place as before again. As he’s clicking confirm, you’re protesting. “Too late, it’s on its way.”

“Ugh, I hate you.” You mumble a tiny laugh bringing a smile to Frankie’s face. “You can’t be doing that.”

“Just accept it, hermosa.” Frankie grumbles.

“What does that mean?!” You laugh. Frankie’s smile grows wider as he lets your laughter lessen.

“It means gorgeous. Or beautiful, depending on my mood.” He shrugs to himself, feeling a blush creep onto his face. He can only picture yours, biting at your lip with anxiety but red-faced to match his. He listens to you breathe, wondering if you’re going to respond, but when you don’t and just let the silence grow between you, he sighs. “I’ll let you eat. Let me know how it goes tomorrow? With Anna?”

“Yeah, I can do that.” You say quietly. “Thank you.”

He smiles, ending the call and leaning back on the cushion of his couch. He knows he’s screwed when it comes to you.

Playing nice with Anna is a blur that you aren’t totally present for. You’re tired, staying up all night tossing and turning in bed at the thought of her stopping by, only soothed by the memory of Frankie calling you hermosa, and has been since he first met you. After Anna had left, hugging you and kissing your cheek saying she misses hanging out with you, you feel almost guilty for not being as fun as you used to be.

She didn’t ask about Frankie once.

It irritates you in more ways than one that Anna chose to not even ask how you two are doing. She was adamant about being in your business before, but what has changed? Was she really wanting to just hang out with you?

You said as much in your phone call with Frankie following Anna leaving. “She was so nosy before, breaking down my bedroom door to find you.”

He laughed quietly through the phone. “Don’t worry about it, maybe she’s discovering she needs to give you space finally.”

“Don’t give her too much credit.” You grumble, taking a bite of some late-night cereal you had put together.

Another laugh and a small sigh. “Have you figured out what you’re wearing for our first date yet?” He teased, making you smile into your spoon.

You hum. “No, did you have a suggestion?”

You can hear him thinking through the phone, debating on what exactly to say. “I want you to be comfortable.”

Comfortable for you meant shorts and a T-shirt. You made sure it was your nicest pair of jean shorts, with small distress marks towards the hem, flattering and slightly loose so you could move easily. A plain scoop neck shirt, dark olive green that reminds you of Frankie’s comforter. This doesn’t feel like a date-worthy outfit, but you feel better about it when Frankie comes to your door wearing close to the same thing- ripped jeans and a charcoal shirt. His boots are laced up tightly, hidden by the hem of his pant legs, hat is perched on his head.

You open the door wider for him and step away towards the hall. “I’m almost ready.” You call, stepping back in front of the mirror and adding a single layer of mascara. You hear him hum, tapping on your countertop with his fingertips.

When you step back out, Frankie is leaning against the counter and watching you. “You’re very pretty, cariño.” He says quietly, holding his hand out for you to take.

You do, shyly placing your fingers in his palm and feeling a jolt of adrenaline when he pulls you toward him. He kisses you lightly, smiling at you as you look up at him. “Ready?”

Nodding, he pulls you along, letting you lock your door before helping you into his passenger seat. He jogs around to the driver's side, starting the engine and then looking at you for a brief moment before placing his hand on your leg again. The drive is relatively silent, Frankie asking how the past couple of days have gone for you, but just enjoying your presence. You feel yourself relax the further along he drives, giddy about what he has planned. “So, where are we going?”

He smirks, looking at you for a moment, and then back to the road. “I thought I would tour you around the hangar, show you Big Mama.” He says quietly, pulling down a dirt road and slowing the speed of his truck.

“Big Mama?” You question, gripping the handle of the door tightly as Frankie hits a bump quicker than expected. You jump in the seat, Frankie giving a short chuckle at your surprised gasp.

“Just a dirt road, hermosa, don’t worry. Yes, that’s the name of the helicopter.” He nods, pulling up to a large building that just looks like a garage. You look over at Frankie to see if this is right and sigh at the smile he gives you. “This part will be quick, I just wanted to show you.”

You hop out of his truck, the sun beating down on your head, and squinting towards the metal door. “Are you sure this isn’t to kill me? Kinda far away from everything else…”

He laughs, coming around the front of his truck and sliding his arm over your shoulder. His other hand reaches into his pocket, keys jingling around his fingers. “I don’t kill my dates, sweetheart.” He says quietly, pulling you along to the door and unlocking it.

When you step in it’s cooler, concrete flooring and metal walls of the same shade of gray surround you. There are a couple smaller planes, a row of toolboxes along the short wall farther away, and a helicopter right in front of you. Your eyes widen as Frankie steps towards it, easily opening the door and climbing in without looking back at you.

He slides the back door open, smiling over at you in a way you haven’t seen before. He looks like a little kid, getting to play with his toys and is excited to tell you about it, dimples deep into his cheeks. “Come on in.”

You step forward, grabbing the hand he has offered and step into the opening, looking around cautiously. “What kind of helicopter is this?” You ask, looking up at him.

“It’s a decommissioned military helicopter.” He says, letting you take a step or two around to explore. “It still works, but it lets us practice a bit in case.”

“In case of what?” You question, missing Frankie’s serious face as he thinks.

“In case we get called on again.” He mumbles, stepping toward you with a quick smile and directing you to the front. He shows you the pilot's seat and lets you act as if you are flying the helicopter. Pointing to the different buttons and levers, he tells you how it works in the simplest of terms.

You laugh when he struggles to find the right words. “You’re not going to test me, are you?” You look over at him to see he is right next to you, cheek almost touching yours, the brush of his stubble barely touching you. Your breath catches at how close you are, his tanned skin glowing with a slight sheen of sweat from the humidity outside. You could lean a bit forward and plant your lips there yourself if you had the confidence to do it.

He turns to lock eyes with you, a smirk growing on his face into a full smile again. “Should I?” He asks, leaning forward and pausing as a silent question. When you don’t move, he leans all the way in and presses his lips to yours lightly, pulling back to see your reaction.

You inhale sharply, flicking your eyes back and forth between his and then down to his lips, his teeth peeking out as his grin grows. You rest your hand on his chest, firm under your fingers, and give a gentle shove. “No, I’m not good at tests.” You settle on, giggling at his momentary frown.

Another moment of staring at each other before he holds his hand out to you again. “C’mon pilot, let’s get something to eat.”

Frankie loves having you beside him. He’s standing with you, at this food truck that he frequents enough that they cleaned the picnic tables off in preparation for this date. He had mentioned it to Berto, the owner a couple days ago that he would be bringing you here and Berto’s wife, Alma took matters into her own hands. String lights cover the area where the picnic tables are shaded by trees, each table has a plastic tablecloth on it so it is easier to clean up after previous guests, and they gave him extra toppings and a tray of salsa and chips. When Pope had asked if they did chips and salsa a few weeks ago, Berto had given a firm “no.” that was now being brought into question. But Frankie only takes note of these things and stores them in the back of his head because he can’t take his eyes off you.

You’re perusing the menu, debating between soft shell tacos and a quesadilla, and ask the owner what he prefers to make. “He will make you anything you want, cariño.” He mumbles in your ear, feeling you relax against his hand resting on the small of your back. You smell warm-he doesn’t know how else to describe it. When he had stepped into your apartment earlier he smelled it and didn’t think much of it, until he had you in the helicopter so close that he wondered if he put on a perfume specifically for him. His arm around you now, he was pretty positive you had just changed your shampoo and weren’t aware he was fixated on it.

When you’ve both ordered and sat down, he’s sat beside you to look out on the water. Berto’s food truck was set up in a local park not far from the hangar, a small pond with a walking trail accessed by just a few yards. He can’t think of anywhere he would rather be, especially when you lean your head on his shoulder and look out, sunglasses you took from his truck perched low on your nose. “Thanks for bringing me to the hangar. Is that still…your job?” You ask, not lifting your head and making yourself comfortable.

He sighs. “No, not at the moment. I mostly do paperwork for the company that owns that hangar in exchange for using their facility.”

You shift, lifting your head and turning towards him. “Do you want to be doing that again? Flying?”

He smiles, shaking his head. “No, not really. But having my license back is good, lets me teach classes on occasion when I’m bored.”

You seem to mull it over, debating on what to ask next. Frankie feels nerves bubble in his stomach, wanting to shut down at the possibility of prying questions. He was ready to tell you that he had gotten over a drug problem, sure–but the why and how and what happened– “Do you teach like, adults? Or like rich kids wanting to fly a helicopter?”

Your question stuns him, a sigh of relief blown out of his mouth as food is placed in front of you both; something else that Alma insisted on doing. “Typically flight students, sometimes military. Whether or not they’re rich I don’t know, but you can’t just sign up for flying lessons with me, no.”

You laugh at that, sliding the sunglasses off your face and setting them on the table as you dip a piece of your quesadilla in salsa. He waits for you to take a bite, listening to your hum of satisfaction before biting into the burrito he ordered. “This is delicious!”

He swallows, watching you again. “This is my favorite spot, they make the best food. Berto over there has all these recipes down to a science.” He watches your smile, turning to him and blushing.

“Are you watching me eat?” You groan, pushing him with your shoulder and making him chuckle. He mumbles out a no, letting silence consume you both as you enjoy each other’s company and the food together.

When you both finish, you chat about random things. Stories from growing up, but not going into detail about home life, you favorite classes when you were in school, his first few years in the military before meeting the group he is friends with now. It is nice, just getting to know each other, and he knows he’s not the only one who thinks so based on your smile and how your fingers swirl small circles into the knee of his jeans.

It sends a jolt of want up his leg when your finger accidentally drifts higher as you excitedly tell him about the time you flew down the street on your bike and now have a scar on your thigh. You point out the general location on his leg for demonstration, and Frankie has to grab your hand to get his heart rate to steady. You smile at him knowingly, tilting your head in question.

Frankie clears his throat, looking out onto the water again before turning back to you and offers to walk around the pond. “Just a stroll?” He mumbles, watching your smile grow, ready to tease him.

The tease never comes though as you stand with him and walk down the short hill towards the paved path, following his lead in a counterclockwise direction. There is no one else around but a mom pushing her kid in a stroller and a runner, and the quiet makes Frankie take a deep breath. “Thanks for coming with me, today.” He mumbles, looking sheepish as you glance at him.

“Thanks for inviting me.” You nod, falling in step beside him and looking out on the pond. “It’s really cool that you’re a pilot.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “I’ve been doing it for so long that I don’t even think of it that way.” He looks at you, down to your hand, and wants to reach for it. He holds back from it when you keep your eyes on him in question. “It was cool when I first started, and now it’s just part of my life. Lost its luster.”

You hum at him, moving your head back and forth before saying. “I can see how that could happen. Everything can get monotonous after a while, no matter how much you enjoy it.”

He nods, kicking a stray stone. “Do you enjoy your job?” He asks quietly, watching the crinkle at the corner of your eyes and the huff out of your nose.

“Ah, no. I mean, it’s easy, and lots of free coffee is a bonus. But…it’s not…” You trail off, shrugging. “It’s paying the bills while I work on it.”

He nods, prying a little further. “And what are you working on?”

Your eyes shine brightly at him, stopping in the pathway and turning your whole body. You’ve made it halfway around the pond, trees shading the pathway with benches and a small playground. “I like to write. I don’t think I’ll go very far with it, but…maybe.”

He smiles, blushing as he says, “I saw you had a poetry book in your room.”

You laugh, sitting on the bench and waiting for him to do the same. “Yeah, I’m trying to see if poetry is more of my speed.” You sigh, turning to him again. “I have so many ideas and they aren’t lengthy enough to write a story so I thought I should try something else and see if that helps kinda clear my mind–” You sigh, looking down at your fingers and picking at your nails. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”

Frankie can’t help himself when he slides closer to you, his jeans catching on the worn-out wood of the bench before grabbing your hand to stop you. He doesn’t say anything as he leans in, pressing his lips to your cheek, the corner of your mouth, and then finally your lips. He can’t think about anything else besides your lips against his, how they are so soft and willing, how you smell of warm vanilla and spice– “Do you…” He doesn’t know why he pulled away, his thoughts all over the place and his body struggling to catch up. “Do you want to come to my place? Watch a movie?”

Your nod is all the reassurance he needs to know he’s not out of his depths.

Being with Frankie today was a whirlwind of surprises. The helicopter tour, the favorite spot to eat that you noticed he tried to be nonchalant about but knew he would have been crushed if you didn’t like it. The walk around the pond, all the way to holding your hand while he drove quickly back to his apartment.

When he kissed you it felt like he couldn’t help himself; that his attraction for you was the same as how you felt about him, and that it was bound to happen. He asked in the truck about more of your poetry, and if you thought you would stick with it after you said it hadn’t been that long of you trying, and your heart soared at his interest.

No other guy you had ever been with had been really all that interested in your interests. Not that they had to, but the effort of asking was new for you.

Frankie had led you into his apartment, smiling at you as you passed him through the doorway. He was quick to shut the door and wrap his arm around you, making you do a quick turn around to see what he was doing and launch into a kiss. Your fingers were quick to shove up into his hair, curls wrapping around them so easily, his hat falling somewhere on the floor as he led you backward.

God, it was so easy.

Easy to fall back on his comforter, bouncing with a giggle as he laughed with you. Easy to lean back into another kiss as he quietly asked “Is this okay?” before unbuttoning your shorts and pulling them down your legs. The way he looked up at you, wide brown eyes blown out with a need you couldn’t place, made your spine tingle with want of your own. It was easy to reach for his pants, shoving down his jeans and boxers in one swoop and letting his hardened length slap against his lower stomach.

It was easy to lean forward and lick up the shaft to the head, watching his hands clench in surprise. “Fuck, sweetheart–” He groaned, pulling at your shirt to lift it off of you.

You pulled away long enough to help him, yanking him to kneel on the bed beside you. As you reattached your lips to his weeping head, a pearl of precome touching your tongue and making you sigh in delight, he lifted his own shirt off of him and exposed his bare chest, flushed with adrenaline.

His hair was wild from removing his shirt in haste, jaw slacks as he watched your mouth over him, heaving heavily. You thought you could write poetry about this, maybe.

“C’mere.” He huffed, pulling you off of him to lay flat on his bed. Frankie adjusts himself to lay next to you, turning on his side and chuckling. “If you keep your mouth on me, I don’t think I’ll last.”

You shrug, bringing a finger from the center of his chest down to his belly button. “I owe you for last time.” You smile, letting your eyes trail down to the tuft of hair below his belly.

Frankie pauses, eyebrows furrowing as his own hand glides down your torso. “You don’t owe me anything.” He grumbles, swirling his fingers lower to your clit and listening to you sigh. He’s tensed up, shaking his head. “Fuck–you’re so fucking pretty. Do you understand me?” He asks, dipping his fingers lower and pressing two into your entrance. “You don’t owe me anything, okay?”

When you don’t answer, Frankie pulls out his fingers, trailing them lightly down your thighs. You whine at the feeling, sticky and wet with your own arousal. “Frankie–”

“Tell me you understand.” He says lowly. He kisses your temple briefly, fingers still ghosting over your skin. “Say you don’t owe me anything, hermosa.”

He’s brought his fingers back to your center, slowly shoving his fingers into you again, curling them against that spot you struggle to find yourself, pulling them out and circling your clit. Over, and over he does this, mouth open and breathing heavily over the side of your face. “I d-don’t–” You reach for his arm, nails digging into his skin but he doesn’t let up. “Don’t owe y-you anything.”

Frankie gives a cat-like smile, kissing your cheek and groaning. “Good girl, that’s it.” He pulls his fingers away from you, your hips bucking up to follow them. “Let me taste you, huh?”

Dazed, you watch him move between your legs, his hands sliding up your thighs and spreading them apart. He groans again, leaning down to kiss the junction between your thigh and center. “I’ll come once, and you can come twice.” He mumbles, glancing up at you and smiling when your eyes widen. “Fair?”

You think about arguing with him–you really do. But the way he leans down and lets his tongue drag against your skin, leaving a blazing trail of want behind, you can’t think about why you would argue in the first place.

He does the same that he had done with his fingers, his tongue trails down to your entrance, giving a gentle push inside you before retreating and sliding up to your clit. He circles it, lips wrapping around to provide some suction that makes you throw your head back with a moan.

Frankie’s tongue is talented, and you weren’t really prepared for that. He groans at the feeling of your hands tangling in his hair, his fingers digging into your thighs to keep you still. He pulls away enough to mumble out “You taste so sweet.” before diving back in, causing you to arch up into his mouth. His hand slides up your stomach to your chest, covering your breasts and giving a light tug to each nipple, and it is just about your tipping point.

“Please, Frankie.” You whine, covering his hands with yours to keep him there, moving your hips with his tongue to chase the feeling he is providing. When you fall over the edge, shutting your eyes and chanting his name, you feel his moan vibrate through your center.

When you come down, Frankie pulls away with a deep breath and a smile. “Alright?” He asks, sitting up and leaning over you, letting his lips trail over one nipple to see you shiver. The wetness from your center leaves a trail over your chest, cool in the air as he moves across your skin.

You breathe heavily, nodding your head at him as he looks up to you for confirmation. “Fuck, that was–” You cut yourself off, not able to figure out what it was beyond good. So good that you’re pretty sure you blacked out for a second.

Frankie nips at your collarbone, smiling into your skin with a sigh. He pushes his hips forward, the head of his cock brushing against your clit making you shiver. “Think you can give me another one?” He asks, breathing against your ear as his hips rut against yours again.

You give a faint “Yes,” as he leans over to his nightstand, pulling out a foil pack and ripping it open with his teeth. He leans back to slide it on, looking at you with hooded eyes and red cheeks. When he leans back down, he presses his lips to yours, moaning at the feeling of you against him. He rests his forehead against yours, positioning himself to push into you, sliding in slowly. His eyes are on you, your face, watching for a reaction. He props himself up with his hands on either side of your head, letting you look down at his hips, his dick. You bite at your bottom lip, not realizing that it drove Frankie crazy until he took his thumb to pull it from your mouth, holding your face in his hand.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” He groans out, fitting his hips flush against yours to just stay there, to feel you. “How are you this fucking tight for me, baby?”

You moan, moving your hips up to push against his. “Please, Frankie.”

He pulls away, holding you steady as he watches before sliding to the hilt into you again, setting a pace that is slow but powerful. You jolt across the sheets, his hand tightening at your jaw to try and keep you still, but he has to reach up to the headboard to support himself at just how forceful he is being. He moans your name, eyes closing in bliss at how you feel wrapped around him. “God, fuck–you’re so fucking good for me.”

You reach your hand down to your clit, circling it as he continues to push into you, his eyes trailing down your form to your hand and watches you. The rise to this orgasm is much quicker, feeling your chest heat as you begin to breathe heavier than before. You reach your other hand up to Frankie’s shoulder, digging into the taunt muscle. “Frankie–”

“It’s okay, that’s it.” He mumbles, leaning his forehead on yours again. “Be a good girl for me? Come all over my cock baby.”

He continues to quietly encourage you, your nails digging in at the feeling of your orgasm again, eyes shutting in pleasure. It feels like your ears are ringing, a muffled sound of Frankie’s labored breaths fucking you through it, chasing his own high.

“I’m so fucking close.” He breathes, leaning up and changing his position. He sits straight, hands securing onto the dip in your hip to pull you towards him. His jaw is tight, teeth gritting against each other as he tries to hold on just a bit longer, practically growling out at the feeling. When he comes his jaw drops, watching your centers connect together over and over and the smallest whimper escapes his mouth at the sight of your center squeezing his.

You’re both breathing heavily, watching him through sleepy eyes as he pulls out, removing the condom and tying it off with skilled fingers. He steps out of the room and across the hall to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth and a small smile. He looks a little embarrassed, bringing the cloth down to your chest where he kissed you after eating you out, trailing down to your center and gently wiping. You bring your hand down with his, stopping him. “I didn’t mean to bring you to my bed first,” Frankie admits, resting his other hand on your leg with a small chuckle.

You smile, pushing your hair out of your face and sitting up. “We can still watch a movie if you want to.”

Frankie tosses the rag into the laundry basket he has by the closet, kneeling on the bed again so that you’re at eye level with his neck as you sit, his hands coming around the base of your head and petting your hair back. “Of course I want to.” He says quietly, planting a kiss on your forehead. “Spend as long as possible with you if I can.”

You smile at him, adjusting to bring your feet to the edge of the bed and slide off. When you stand you stretch, unknowingly putting on a show for Frankie as you lean down to find your underwear, sliding it up your legs. He goes for your shirt, pulling it out of your reach, grabbing his own, and offering it to you. You furrow your brow, placing your hand on your hips and asking the silent question of why. “I like seeing you in mine.” He blushes, pulling you toward him when you try to grab the shirt out of his grasp.

You laugh, leaning down to kiss him again. “Fine by me.” You conceded, letting him help you put on his shirt, it brushes the underside of your ass and covers the tops of your things. His fingers reach forward to your hip and slide down to your leg where you mentioned you had a scar. He finds it quickly, giving it a light circle with his thumb before he pulls back and examines it.

Your heart flutters at the sentiment-that he listened, he remembered, he sought it out. You’re lost in your own thoughts when he looks back up to you, a smirk growing on his face. “Should we find another Heath Ledger movie to watch?” He asks, watching you.

You smile at him, nodding your head. “Yeah, maybe.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie morales #frankie morales smut #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales fanfic #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfic #something else

136 notes · View notes