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sanguineterrain · 4 months

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restroom attendant | jason todd

Summary: Tonight is the worst night ever--you just got dumped on your birthday, and all you want to do is cry in the restaurant bathroom in peace. That is, until, the Red Hood bursts in. This city just won't cut you a break.

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings/tags: humor, mild angst, reader's ex-bf cheats and dumps her, jason is such a silly goose, flirting, meet ugly, canon-typical violence, awkward jason, comic relief dick grayson.

A/N: this is probably the silliest fic i've ever written LOL! i hope you guys enjoy it. please support your local jason todd enthusiast and reblog :)

the divider

Tonight sucks.

With a shaky hand, you attempt to soothe your swollen eyes. You’ve probably been in here for about twenty minutes. Your Uber has definitely left, as has your now ex-boyfriend of three years.

Yoga instructor. It’s always the yoga instructor. They’re always fucking the yoga instructor.

You swallow a mouthful of tears and phlegm and try not to let the wet sink touch your dress. All you’d wanted was a little class on your birthday, maybe have some wine and play footsie under the table with your boyfriend. But no. That would’ve been too easy for you.

You’re starting to think this city is cursed.

The door slams open. The force of it shakes the bathroom, rattles the mirrors. You spin around.

A man slides across the floor and smacks his head on the opposite wall. Red Hood appears in the doorway, the eyes of his helmet glowing eerily.

Yep. Definitely cursed.

"Let's try this again," Hood says pleasantly, reloading his gun with a fresh magazine. "And in the interest of making myself transparent: when I ask you a question, Jerry, I expect a truthful answer."

He stalks over to Jerry and heaves him up by the lapels of his suit jacket. Hood's biceps bulge as he holds Jerry against the wall. You squish yourself against the sink. Water soaks the back of your dress.

"You're crazy, I didn't do anything!" Jerry shouts, feet barely scraping the floor.

"Volume, Jerry. People are trying to enjoy their meals.”

“Let go of me, Hood! I wasn’t anywhere near the Iceberg Lounge!”

“Yeah, see, words are coming outta your mouth, but they don't match the fact that I have three people who put you at the scene. How can we remedy this inconsistency? Any ideas?"

Jerry squirms, but he's no match for Hood's strength. Your heart pounds in your chest.

"Don't give me to the cops!" Jerry begs.

"Cops are the least of your worries right now," Hood snarls. "You're damn lucky Nightwing wants to talk to you, Jerry, or your head would hurt a lot more."

Slowly, you reach for your purse, trying to pull out your phone. Instead, you knock it to the floor. Tears gather in your eyes because this night just can’t cut you a break.

“Motherfucker,” you whisper.

Hood turns, those frightening white eyes now on you. Jerry also looks at you, legs still dangling.

“Hey,” Hood says without a sign of struggle. “Shit. Y'alright? Did I swipe ya?”

“No,” you say, voice shaky.

His posture softens. “Okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. Don’t be afraid.”

“I believe you. But, um… you're in the women's bathroom.”

Red Hood gives the room a onceover.

“Huh. So we are. Dunno how that happened.” He shakes Jerry by the collar. “Why’d you run into the women’s bathroom, asshole?”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Don't kill me!” Jerry wails.

“Shut it, Jesus. I'm not gonna kill you. Not yet, anyway.”

“It's fine, I was just leaving,” you say, bending down to get your purse.

“Hey, no, don't let me push you out,” Hood says. “Sorry. I'll be gone in a couple minutes.”

Hood adjusts his grip so Jerry's face is against the wall, arms and legs restrained. Then he zipties Jerry and sits him down hard on the floor. Hood presses a button on his helmet.

“Yo, N, I'm at Prescott's. Yeah, with Jerry. No, I didn't tell him to run in here, he did that all on his own! Well, I chased him for ten blocks, so I’d prefer if you’d keep your bitching to yourself. Thank you… Okay, we're in the women's bathroom, so—well, I didn't do it on purpose! No, I’m—will you just come here? There’s a side window.” Hood presses the button again with a grunt. “Dickhead.”

“Are you gonna erase my memory?” you ask.

Hood jerks, turning back to you.

“What? Hell no, I'm not gonna erase your memory. I don't do that shit, I promise.”

You slump against the sink. “That's too bad. I would prefer it.”

He looks up from Jerry’s last ziptie and pulls it extra tight. Jerry whimpers.

“How come?” Hood asks.

You shake your head. “It's nothing.”

“Hm. Doesn't look like nothing. If you're in danger—”

“I'm not in danger. I…”

You glance at Hood. You can't see his face, but his body language seems genuine. From what you've heard, Hood isn't known for mincing words or doing things he doesn't want to. And he’s good to Gothamites. Well, the law-abiding ones, anyway. He’s even been endorsed by Batman.

What's the harm in telling him about your disastrous night? Not like you'll see him again. Or Jerry.

“I got dumped,” you say.

“Ah.” Hood nods. “Been there.”

Somehow, the idea of Red Hood getting dumped is weirder than him beating up a guy in the women’s bathroom of Prescott’s.

You sniffle, and wipe your eyes with the back of your hand.

“Yeah, um. It was our three year anniversary today. He took me here, told me he was in love with his yoga instructor, and then left.”

You tear up thinking about it. Hood makes a quiet noise.

“Shit. Well, I haven't been there,” he says. “But I know infidelity. I'm sorry. Dudes are trash.”

“And it's my birthday today,” you blurt, sniffling.

“Happy birthday,” Jerry says, clutching his stomach.

“What a fucking asshole!” Hood snarls, and lets go of Jerry, who crumples like a sack of potatoes. He’s out cold in a second, frozen on the floor.

Your brows rise. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. It’s his first time in Gotham.” Hood shrugs. “Anyway, where was I? Right, your asshole ex. Like it's not enough to publicly dump you, and then he goes and does it on your birthday? Who is this guy? I'll go talk to him right now.”

You laugh a loud, snorting laugh. It bounces off the tiles.

Hood tilts his head. “What’d I say?”

You catch your breath and wave your hand.

“No, nothing, I’m sorry. I’ve just had a crappy night and that’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever offered to me.”

“I mean it,” Hood says. “I’ll scare him if you want.”

“As tempting as that is, I don’t want to be an accessory to a crime.”

You also don’t want to put your ex in the ICU, no matter how much he might deserve it. Best to let the universe do its thing.

“You’d be acquitted, don’t worry.” Hood leans against the stall. “I’d never letcha go to jail.”

You smile, your ears growing warm. “You don’t even know me. What if I deserve it?”

“Nah. I got a good sense about people. I can tell you’re sweet. Probably don’t even run through red lights.”

“I try not to,” you say, heat spreading to your face.

“Yeah, a good girl. I figured as much.”

Your eyes widen. Hood coughs and rubs his neck. Even his coughs sound intimidating through the helmet, but that’s negated by his scrunched-up posture.

“Fuck. Sorry. That wasn’t a come-on,” he says. “I mean, it sounded like one, but I’m realizing what a creep I am, flirting with you in a bathroom with a zip-tied criminal. Sorry.” He shakes his head. “I hate myself.”

You grin. “It’s okay. You made my night better, actually. Thanks.”

“That’s a testament to how terrible your night’s been if I made it better.”

You shrug. “Could always be worse. I bet Jerry had an even shittier night than me.”

“You’d win that bet. But I—”

The window swings open with a clunk. Nightwing pops his head in. He looks at Hood, then you.

“Uh,” he says. “Evening. What’s going on?”

“What’s going on is it took you almost ten minutes to get here,” Hood says, back in Vigilante Mode. “Did you get lost?”

Nightwing smiles with all his teeth. “I was actually cleaning up your mess at the Bowery, Hood. You’re welcome.”

He looks at you. “Hi. Sorry about this. I hope we didn’t ruin your night. If there’s anything we can reimburse you for…”

You shake your head. “It’s okay. My night was already sunk. Don’t worry about it. Thanks for keeping Gotham safe.”

Nightwing laughs. “The pleasure is ours.”

“Alright, enough chattering, Dickwing,” Hood says. “Take him.”

He lifts the unconscious Jerry, pushing him up to the window. He does so effortlessly, his jacket riding up to reveal his skin-tight jumpsuit.

You look away before he catches you staring. There’s definitely something wrong with you.

Nightwing takes Jerry and waves at you. Then he disappears.

“So, uh,” Hood says. “I gotta go.”

“Oh! Right, of course. Sorry to keep you.”

“Now what’re you apologizing for?” he asks, and it almost sounds like a tease. You wonder what his smile looks like. What color his eyes are.

“Well, I really didn’t mean to keep you…”

“You didn’t keep me,” Hood says, and you can hear the warmth even through his decoder. “This is probably the best arrest I’ve ever made.”

He starts to climb through the window, then stops. He digs into one of the pockets of his belt and pulls out a scrap of paper.

“This is my number,” he says. “Well, it’s kind of the vigilante hotline. But you can reach me here, in case you ever need help.”

Hood walks over to give it to you. He smells like gunpowder and oranges. He’s even larger this close, the width of his shoulders dwarfing you.

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

He nods and backs up, clapping his hands.

“Right. So I’ll go… Bye.”

Hood looks at you for a moment more. Then he hops up onto the window sill and slides out, somehow graceful despite his bulk. The window closes.

Your dress has dried, which is nice. You walk out of the bathroom. It’s a miracle no one else has come in.

You get your coat and this time, when you see the empty seat across from yours, you don’t burst into tears, which is progress. You call another Uber and go to wait for it at the front. The hostess approaches you.

“Ma’am?” she says, and holds out a small, plastic container. In it is a slice of tiramisu.

“I didn’t order this,” you say.

“It was called in and paid for by a Mr. R.H. He wishes you a happy birthday.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

You’re definitely leaving a five-star review on Yelp.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #batman fanfiction #dc fanfiction #jason todd reader insert

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kakujis · 1 year

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do you love me? 3;

synopsis: they wake you up at 3am and ask if you love them. 1 + 2 + 4

ft: hanma, ran, and rindou.

warnings: gn!reader, insecurities, clingy bfs, jealous!rindou, swearing, mentions of drinking, not proofread, reader is a lil mean in hanma's ): and thaat should be it!

a/n: is it me or are these getting longer?! anyways, here's part 3! the last one will be mitsuya, draken, and chifuyu! i’m running out of steam thinkin’ of scenarios uh oh. anyway, writing ran's bit was so much fun, since i feel like he's a goofy loverboy. i kind of struggled w rindou’s but i hope it still falls together nicely! ALSO WHY IS HIS SO LONG WTF and here's a special lil tag for @fuyuluvr ♡

the city is quiet as the hum of a motorcycle comes to a stop. hanma’s not sure how he ended up here, well actually he is, subconsciously driving straight to the one place that always riles him up, setting his veins on fire faster than the rush of a zipline.

he hums to himself, taking off his helmet, and nudging down his kick stand. he looks upwards, toward your bedroom window, his heart already starting to flutter in his chest. stuffing his hands into his jacket, he walks up, getting ready to scale up towards your window. he glances around, although no one’s around in this dead of night, he would rather not have anyone calling the cops on him.

they’re probably asleep, he thinks, as he peers back up, nails digging into the stone as he uses his leg to boost himself up. he hoists himself until he’s up to the sil, laughing a little to himself when he notices you left it open like you were expecting him.

he tumbles in, knocking over your lamp in the process. “oops.” he says. meanwhile, the crash has you bolting awake, screaming, no, screeching as you grab your alarm clock, holding it up, ready to throw or swing.

he throws his hands up defensively as he approaches, “it’s me!” and in your sleep deprived state you scramble back, the grip on your device tightening.

hanma barks out a laugh, before he switches on your bedside lamp. “hi baby. ♡” he chirps, seeing your shoulders slump as you settle, a particularly loud sigh escaping you as you place one hand over your chest. he kicks his shoes off as he jumps onto your bed, diving straight into your comforter, laying on his stomach.

“you scared the shit out of me!” you yell, “besides, what time is it?” you look at the device in your hand before you realize it’s off, ripped straight out the socket. frowning, you toss it onto the floor, before crossing your arms and facing him.

“you were really gonna fuck me up, huh?” he muses, honey eyes twinkling at the idea of you actually swinging on him. he would’ve dodged of course, but it would’ve given him an excuse to grab you and have you underneath him.

you sigh again, “shuji, i don’t have time for this. i’ve got a work meeting tomorrow morning.” you grab your blankets, shimmying underneath them and pulling them up, “we can hang out this weekend or something,” you yawn.

“eh?” is all you hear as you turn over, shutting your eyes in hopes of getting some sleep. maybe he’d fall asleep with you or maybe he’d leave, but the only thing that’s really on your mind is this stupid meeting. just a few more days until the weekend, has been your new mantra, if you can just tough it out, you’ll be golden.

it’s quiet for a few minutes, but the dip in your bed is still there and soon enough he’s asking, “do you love me?”

“no, shuji, of course i don’t…” you start, sarcasm tinting your voice as you roll back over, but you stop when you see his defeated expression. it’s different from the shuji you know, his solemn eyes studying you, as he nervously plays with your sheets in one hand.

hanma shuji has been so damn bored. it’s been like this ever since you got a job, constant “i can’t”s, and “maybe next time, shu.” he wants so badly to go on late night rides with you again, the sound of your laughter ripping over the roar of his motorcycle.

he wants to stay up with you until sunrise, at the top of your favorite hill, hands intertwined and shoulders brushing. he wants to snap pictures of you at the top of this hill, thinking you're prettier than any sunrise. you make him feel like he’s invincible and that everything’s okay.

shuji has been so bored, but more so than that, he’s been lonely, unsteady. he misses you so fucking much, nothing’s as fun without you, everything’s dull like the world’s covered in sepia.

“c’mere,” you say, opening your arms and he crawls forward, collapsing into you. “i love you, shuji, i do.. and i’m sorry.”

you realize now how distant you’ve been. unbeknownst to the two of you, just how stressful a new job could be, you were just trying to jumble a new set schedule but you had been snappier, neglectful, and even downright mean at times.

shuji tried his best to accomodate you, going off on night rides by himself, always saying, “it’s alright.” when you’d turn him down again. he tried to busy himself more with his friends, but his mind always wandered to what you’d be doing - did you miss him too? - checking his texts every now and then in hopes there’d be a new message.

“shuji?” you whisper when he doesn’t respond and you think he has every right to be upset with you. but instead he says, “yeah?” his face suddenly dangerously close to yours, the tip of his nose lingers by yours and your face heats up at the proximity.

“um,” you stutter and soon there’s a smirk dancing on his face, “d-did you hear me?”

“i heard you. loud and clear, ♡” he says, lips ghosting over yours, “i was just replayin’ it in my head.”

shuji always has you melting and tonight is no different, so you close your eyes and let him kiss you. deep, sweet, and full of all the things the two of you don’t know how to say. you pout when he pulls away and he grins, “so cute.”

an idea strikes you then as you gaze at the love of your life. “hey… wanna go for a ride?” besides, what's the harm in losing a little sleep?

the way he perks up has you giggling, you’re sure if he had a tail it’d be wagging a mile a minute. he’s practically beaming, as he starts to pull you up and off the bed. he stops for a second, head tilted and finger on his chin, “wait, don’t you have a meeting at in a couple hours?”

you nod, “yeah, so bring me home by 5?” you smile at him as you reach for a jacket.

“i can do that.”

ran:

for the first time in his life, ran haitani cannot fall asleep. he lays there, one arm resting above his head, the only noise being the sound of your soft snores as his mind continues to wander. he thinks about the dinner you two had earlier. it was dumb, the entire situation, your friends were clearly too drunk to be saying reasonable things. ran knew this, he’s been the same way countless times before.

but when she hiccuped, arm slung around you, “maann, can’t believe you ended up with ran! you used to only talk about rindou in high school ehe.” ran felt his stomach drop.

you froze at that, quickly glancing at ran whose face was otherwise unreadable. she continued, incessantly giggling, “seriously seriously! everyday was ‘man rindou looked sooo cu’-“

“thats enough!” you had said, placing a palm over her mouth to muffle her. “lets get you home, okay?” desperately glancing at the rest of your friends, who took the hint and helped her out of there.

ran remembered how after everyone left, you had tried to talk to him, “listen..” your hand reaching towards his.

but for some reason, he had stopped you. “it’s fine, people say dumb shit when they’re drunk,” he mused, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “don’t worry about it.”

and maybe the reason was that he was scared, scared to hear you admit that yeah, you did like his brother. and when that didn’t work out, you settled on him.

he shakes his head, getting up from the bed and padding over to the bathroom. turning the faucet, he douses cold water on his face. don’t be stupid, ran.

when he walks out, he stops when he sees you sitting up, sleepily rubbing your eyes. “ran?” you mumble, “are you okay?”

he settles back into an easy grin, walking over and climbing back in. “yeah, i’m alright.”

“liar.”

he blinks. “what’d you just say?”

“i said, you’re a liar.” you huff, placing your hands on his cheeks, swiveling his head towards yours. “you’re upset.”

“and why do you think that?” he says, but there’s a red tint dusting on his cheeks, and his eyes flicker from you to various objects around the room.

“first of all, you’re awake,” you emphasize, “when is ran ‘if i don't get enough sleep i’ll kill you and your family’ haitani awake at 3am? hm?” you dart your head every time he tries to look away trying to stay in his vision.

he sighs, “okay, you got me.” he stills, looking at you with a crease in his brow. “do you love me? and.. was what your friend said right? that you used to like my brother?”

you soften at his question, “of course i do. i love you and only you. let me explain?”

he nods and you drop your hands, opting to intertwine them with his. sighing, you begin, “okay so, in high school there was this… friend- okay no i hated that bitch-“

you give ran a look as he whistles, caught off guard by your vitriol, as he motions you to continue on with a little grin, “don’t mind me.”

“there was this acquaintance,” you continue and ran nods, “and every single guy i was into she would try to take them from me, so i pretended to like rindou because.. i was scared.. she would actually get together with you.”

its your turn to burn with embarrassment, looking down at your interlocked hands as you reveal the secret you kept for so long. you glance up at ran and groan out a “what?!” when you notice his shit-eating grin.

“i’m really a catch, eh?” he teases and you scrunch your nose. “don’t make that face,” he points, “you’re the one who tried to gatekeep me.”

“ugh fine,” you pout, your face on fire, “this is so embarrassing… ah!” ran pulls you down, hugging you tightly. “ran?”

“man, i feel like a million bucks! who would’ve thought the person i’d been chasin’ all throughout highschool felt the same way. i should’ve asked you out sooner.” he pinches your cheek, cooing, “my baby.”

you can’t even focus on the fact that he casually mentioned the two of you were mutual crushing for so long. if you could die from embarrassment you would. on the flipside, if ran could die from love, he would. he’s never admitted it before, but he’s always felt a little insecure, so he hides it behind a mask that only you get to uncover.

“did i ever meet her?” he asks, face to face with you. he can’t stop smiling, instead continuing to poke your cheek as you pout.

“hmm, maybe. i dunno, i tried to avoid her a lot of the time.” you answer, “why?”

“cause if i did, you wouldn’t even have to worry about it.” he says, running the pad of his thumb over your cheek. “i’ve only had eyes for you after all.”

was he always this cheesy? seriously, you might die. “i’m gonna die,” you profess, your face and body on fire, moving your hands up to hide your expression behind them. “if you continue, i’ll seriously die.”

“dying in my arms is super romantic though.” he muses, “i bet it’d be a dream come true for you.”

“shut up!” you groan, burying your face into the pillow.

“babe, seriously, it’s a dream of mine. romeo and juliet, who?”

“ran haitani, shut up!”

rindou:

rindou haitani was seething. on the outside, he had it all. a club that he owned with his brother, able to play his music to an excited crowd, and to top it all off, a loving partner who did their best to support him. but on the inside, he was someone who hid from his emotions, snuffing them out before they had their chance to reach the surface and maybe that’s why, in rare moments, when he couldn’t snuff them out he waited until you fell asleep to think about them.

maybe it was his fault for inviting you out, but it’s always been a dream of his to watch you dance to his music. at first you refused, something about how crowds aren’t really your thing. but he persisted, noting how you always dance for him when he plays his music so why not do it at his club?

“besides, you always get along with everyone you meet, just try it.” he insisted, beaming when you said “okay, just this once.”

he wasn’t usually jealous, something he prided himself on, that you could hang out with whoever you wanted whenever you wanted and he’d have no issue. but tonight things were different. you looked amazing under the neon, pulsing lights, feeling the beat down to your bones as you swayed and moved on the dance floor.

ran was supposed to stay close to you, but the two of you got separated by the mass of bodies. from his view up top though, rindou could see you clearly, and when someone came up to you to dance, he was sure you would deny them. but perhaps it was the slight buzz of alcohol running through your veins or maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through you that caused you to say yes.

you didn’t grind on them, thankfully, but still, the way you laughed and cheered, eyes fully on them was like a kick to rindou’s gut. at one point, they leaned in to say something to you and rindou almost stopped his set, wanting to take you home immediately. but instead, he grit his teeth and kept playing.

he didn’t have the heart to tell you anything on the way home either, the way you excitedly bounced up and down detailing to him about how much fun you had and how you’d love to go again. he shut those emotions down again, instead laying a hand over yours, smiling and saying, “i’m glad you had fun, love.”

but now as he lay there in your shared bed, one arm around you as you slept on his chest, he was steaming. he has a continuous fight with himself in his head over it, how he isn’t the type to dance anyway, so it’s fine if you have fun dancing with someone else. but also, have you ever had that much fun with him before? like you did tonight with some stranger? he’s so pissed off he can’t remember, especially when he thinks about how close they were to his baby.

when rindou is lost in his head, he never notices the things he does outwardly to keep himself calm. like the tapping on your arm or the shake of his leg, but you do, rousing out of sleep, peeking one eye up at him.

“rinnie?” you croak, voice hoarse from the amount of shouting and laughing you did tonight. “you okay?”

he looks down at you, unable to control the frustration clearly etched across his face. “i’m fine. go back to sleep.”

“no.” you say, even in your half-asleep state you can tell that something’s up, “what’s wrong.”

“nothing.” he huffs, trying his best to not let his emotions get the best of him. but if there’s one thing rindou hates, it’s talking about his feelings.

you pause, trying to think your words over carefully. “did i do something wrong?” he doesn’t respond, and you mull it over again, when an answer comes to you. “oh… i won’t go to the club anymore, if that’s what you want, i bet i looked pretty lame dancing out there-“

“no!” he interrupts, “no… you looked amazing…besides, i love watching you dance.”

“then what is it, rindou? i can’t read your mind, y’know?” you remind him and his face softens.

“i know…” he replies, and you wait for him to continue. that’s something that he’s grateful for, that when he does talk, you never rush him, letting him go at his own pace. “it’s just… did you have to dance with that guy tonight?” he mumbles, voice trailing off so that it’s barely audible.

“hm? i didn’t hear you, did i have to..?” you ask, tilting your head.

“did you have to dance with that stupid dude tonight?!” he nearly yells, rushing out his words and you blink, a little taken aback.

“oh…” you realize, he’s jealous. you realize now that from where he was looking it probably did look bad, his partner, dancing and laughing it up with a stranger. “i’m sorry, i didn’t know that bothered you so much…”

for some reason, that sets rindou off and he scoffs, pissed off once again. of course he’d be annoyed, of course he’d be jealous. you’re his partner. “do you love me?”

his question comes out more like an accusation and you hate it because it stings. in turn you say, “i do. do you trust me?”

he wants to bite back, but when he looks at you, he can’t. you look so hurt, he sighs, rubbing his temple with his free hand, “… sorry. i do trust you. i’m bad at this.”

“i know,” you say and he glances at you, surprised, which makes you smile. “you’re awful at telling me how you feel, so you act all cool and tough instead.”

“aren’t you mad at me?” he asks, your sudden smile catching him off guard.

“hmm… not really mad, just a little hurt is all.” you say, because even though he was the one who told you that you get along with everyone you meet, you know rindou inside and out, culminating from the many years the two of you have shared together.

rindou doesn’t want to seem controlling, but because of that he neglects to establish his boundaries, too focused on how comfortable you feel. it’s his own weird way of control, if he doesn’t push you, let’s you do your thing, then you’ll stay. you won’t leave him like he’s scared you’ll do if he ever says no.

he apologizes again, his frustration turning to shame. you're so patient, even when he snaps at you or can't find the words. but you shake your head, “thanks for telling me. let me know what bothers you, please?”

“i’ll try,” he mumbles, glancing away, and you know that means that next time he probably won’t. he’ll most likely bury those feelings deep inside until you catch wind, but it’s the fact that he’ll at least try that makes you happy. it’s okay, you’ll always be there when he needs it.

you settle back into your original position, closing your eyes and within a few minutes, you’re dozing off asleep.

tonight really did a number on you, he thinks, while playing with your hair, maybe i should be more honest with you… i love you.

but there's a few things that rindou doesn’t realize. like how he’s talking out loud, or that you’re still just barely awake, his “i love you,” warming you up like the morning sun. as much as you wanna mention it when you wake up, you also don’t wanna embarrass him. for now, you’ll keep this a secret.♡

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers x reader #hanma shuji x reader #ran haitani x reader #rindou haitani x reader #hanma shuji #ran haitani #rindou haitani #pibby writing #RANS WAS MY FAVORITE JSYK !!!!

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navstuffs · 11 months

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Traffic stop

Pairing: Rookie!Leon Kennedy x BustyF!Reader

Summary: Your sports bra malfunctions during a traffic stop with a shy rookie cop.

Warnings: au obvs, happens in raccoon city, wrote with a busty reader in mind but anyone can read it, shy!leon, accidental exposure, suggestive themes, speeding (DRIVE SAFE PEOPLE!!)

Author's Notes: kudos to my husband for giving me the idea/title. if anyone would like to write a smut version of this, i also wouldn't mind, just let me know! i do have another plan for re2 leon in works cause he is my baby. hope you enjoy your reading!

my leon's masterlist | part 2

It is still hot, you think as you exit the gym after an exhausting leg day. You decide to wear your sports bra while driving home since your car's air conditioner has not worked since you bought it. You always think you will have money to fix it or even buy a new car, but you must work with what you have now.

You sigh, throwing your bag and your shirt on the backseat. The pain in your legs will only worsen, so you decide to drive fast to get home, shower, and relax. And oh, yes, hope the wind provides some sort of comfort on your face. Placing your sunglasses in your eyes, you start going, mentally praying you wouldn't see any cop.

But of course, this isn't your lucky day.

Not even ten minutes on the road, the sound of the siren from a car of Raccoon City P.D. is behind you. You groan an audible no, asking mentally what you did to deserve this.

"Perfect. Great," Your murmur.

You pull into a nearby parking lot, take the paperwork from the glove compartment and throw it in the passenger seat, the air already getting stagnant inside the car, making you sweat.

Your eyes roam to the rearview mirror, wondering where the heck that cop was, when you notice the zipper of your sports bra is half open. You attempt to zip it, but it immediately unzips it again, leaving half of your cleavage exposed. You think it doesn't look bad, so you leave it alone. It is not like you were driving topless anyway.

With droplets of sweat on your forehead, you see the cop coming out in your driver-side mirror. Finally, you think as he takes his sweet time to get to you. He looks young. He seems to take a breath before walking to your car, pulling his pants up and his other hand on his gun, and even someone who doesn't understand anything about cops would know this guy is a rookie.

He approaches slowly and carefully, analyzing your old car, and when he finally stops by your window, the first thing you catch is a pair of innocent blue eyes. Staring right at you.

"Good afternoon, ma'am." You read the name tag Leon Kennedy as his eyes go from your face to your sports bra half open. Officer Leon probably has a great view since your car is on the lower side. He gulps, you don't know if nervousness or something else, then stares directly above your head.

"Afternoon."

"Do you know how fast you were going?" Oh, this one is definitely a rookie, with his voice still showing some nervousness.

"Yeap, I know."

You really don't want to prolong this more than it should, and the way Leon Kennedy seems to stare everywhere except you proves he wants the same.

"Look. I was just trying to get home. Just issue the ticket, and I will be on my way. I will behave, I promise."

That clearly sounded more seductive than you meant to be. You don't judge yourself as a woman who could get out of a ticket by flirting; honestly, you didn't care at this moment. Your whole body is getting sweaty and sticky, with a few drops of sweat coming down from your neck, and your legs are literally pulsating with pain. It is worth trying.

And just for the right timing, you feel a single drop of sweat coming down from your neck to your cleavage. Leon Kennedy's blue eyes follow the trail until the drop disappears inside your bra top, and he gulps, licking his lips.

Well, you may be one of those women who can get away from a ticket by flirting.

"License and breas— I mean, car registration, please."

Leon thanks mentally you don't seem to hear his mispronunciation. You grunt, impatience, turning to grab your documents for Leon. When you turn back at him to hand them, your zipper finally gives up, opening it up completely. It is a nice feeling at first, the same feeling you have from having your boobs released after a long day.

For a moment, you both don't move, too mortified. Officer Leon Kennedy is now staring, really staring, at your boobs. He doesn't even attempt to look away, his face entirely red as a tomato. Your immediate reaction is to try to close the zipper, but it seems it had enough. Leon finally turns around, mumbling an apology.

"I am sorry, I am so sorry, Officer!" You groan as you give up on zipping, going for the shirt under your bag in the back seat.

"It-it is fine!" Leon rushes to say, his voice going high a few tones. If this wasn't embarrassing as it was, you would have laughed at the poor rookie's reaction. But now, great, you were probably going to be arrested for public indecency. You finally find a towel, a medium one, that might work. You cover yourself as best as you can.

After Leon gives you a few moments of privacy, he turns back to face you, and you know, by the expression on his face, you are doomed. You were probably getting arrested for trying to seduce a cop-out of a ticket.

"You can go, ma'am."

"What? Like that?" You wonder before stopping yourself.

"Well, y-yeah. I can see you have much bigger problems to deal with it. Have a good day."

Leon gives you one good final look, a strange glow in his eyes. It seems he wants to say something else, but the moment passes. Leon gives you a slight smirk, his face still red, and walks back to his car.

You watch Leon drive away, your gazes somewhat crossing before he disappears into traffic. You sigh, the external heat forgotten, hoping this isn't your last encounter with Leon Kennedy.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x female reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x female reader #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy fanfics #leon kennedy imagine #I REALLY WANTED TO MAKE THIS A SMUT but i can't #my brain is like pdffftt #the other re2 leon i have is smut

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 5 months

Text

The Golden Ratio - Part Two

Pairing: Michael Gavey (Saltburn) x f!reader Warnings: Derogatory language, angst, smut, virginity loss. Word count: ~4.7k

Chapter summary: Her and Michael struggle with the social side of university, and with each other. Series masterlist.

Author's note: For @assortedseaglass. No tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

She is halfway through her second can of Carling, having downed the first as soon as Michael handed it to her, before she feels ready to speak.

In a rare display of empathy, he had handed her a lager the moment he’d opened his door to her, clearly having taken note of her miserable state. There isn’t a mirror in his room, so she has no idea of how puffy her eyes may still be from crying.

The beer is warm, but it’s doing its job and that’s all she really cares about right now. With every pass of the fizzy, amber liquid down her throat she feels lighter - she doesn’t normally drink, so it doesn’t take long.

“Go on then,” she says miserably, drink held in a loose grip between both hands as she perches on the edge of his bed. “You can say ‘I told you so’.”

“About what?” He says, eyeing her carefully, from where he is seated on his computer chair, turned away from his desk to face where she currently sits, the frame of it creaking slightly as he sits forward.

She exhales, keeping her gaze fixed on the ring pull of her beer. “Rich…he’s…he’s been cheating on me.”

“Oh.”

Michael clears his throat, obviously uncomfortable, and for a moment she thinks he won’t say anything else. Her mouth turns downwards bitterly, thinking it’s best she just leaves.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, so quietly she almost doesn’t hear it.

Her head snaps up, eyes locking with his, and he leans back as though wary of her reaction.

“For what?” She asks, a mirthless smile tugging at her lips as she cocks her head.

He bows his head, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his index finger. “I dunno,” he glances back up at her, “just something people say, isn’t it? When something bad happens…”

“I don’t want your empty words,” she tells him, setting her can down by her feet before resting back on her palms. “Tell me what you’re really thinking.”

“You’re already upset,” he states matter of factly, “I don’t think that’s wise.”

“Fuck what you think!” She exclaims, shifting back to the edge of the bed. “Tell me.”

“Alright, fine,” Michael sighs, “I think Rich is a fucking loser, and him cheating is the best thing that could have happened–”

“Wow, thanks–”

“No, let me finish. He’s reading art, for fuck’s sake! What could you possibly have in common? You can do better, you’ve got a brilliant mind.”

Brilliant.

In two years, Rich had never once called her that. A feeling of warmth passes through her as her eyes meet the vibrant blue of Michael’s.

“You really believe that?”

“I know that.”

They stare at each other in silence for a few seconds, and she has no idea what possesses her, but suddenly she is leaning forward, pressing her lips to his. He is hesitant to respond, and when he does it’s chaste and uncertain, a marker of inexperience or unwillingness which she cannot decipher, so she pulls away.

But then he is chasing her, large hands cradling her head as he tugs her back, his mouth finding hers once more. This time the pressure is equal, their breathing heavy as the sticky sound of their saliva grows more significant.

Moving from the bed, not breaking the kiss, she straddles his lap, ignoring the way the chair wheels back against the desk with a heavy thud. Her fingers thread into Michael’s short, sandy hair, as the embrace deepens, her tongue brushing against his. She grinds herself down upon the rapidly growing bulge she can feel beneath the zipper of his cargo shorts, causing a rumble of approval to vibrate from deep within his chest.

It feels good to feel wanted, but as their hands paw haphazardly at each other through their clothes, doubt creeps into her mind. If this is his first kiss, then it would be his first time too. He is her friend, her project partner, she has just broken up with her boyfriend. None of this is a good idea.

Reluctantly, she pulls away, sheepishly climbing from his lap. They’re both breathing heavily, and Michael gingerly adjusts his glasses as he looks up at her in silent question.

“I’m…I’m sorry,” she says breathlessly, running a hand through her hair, “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m a bit pissed and got carried away…”

“Oh,” his eyes widen, as he nods in understanding, subtly moving to adjust himself in his shorts, “of course. I wouldn’t want to take advantage.”

She reaches out a hand, not quite touching him, but wanting to placate him as she fervently shakes her head. “No, no, it’s me taking advantage. I don’t want to ruin things between us. We’re friends.”

“Friends?” The way his eyes light up as he says the word makes her smile, hopeful that she hasn’t caused irreparable damage between.

“Yeah, friends.”

She needs that more than anything right now.

“So, what are you hoping to do once you graduate?” Michael asks, glancing between her and their collective notes.

It’s the day before they are due to present back to Professor’s Byrne’s class, and they have met in the library to go over everything one final time.

In the days since their kiss they have grown closer; sitting next to each other in the remainder of their introductory lectures and meeting up to work on their project, though they both know it is complete and needs nothing else doing to it.

She has grown used to Michael’s intensity, would go as far as to say she is fond of it, and genuinely looks forward to seeing him each day. Oxford feels far less lonely with him by her side.

“Something in the field of medical research,” she says, her fingers playing absentmindedly with the delicate softness of the petals of the sunflower head they’d cut down a few days prior. I read Professor Byrne’s paper before I applied here. It inspired me.”

“The one on biomedical systems?”

Her eyes light up as she smiles at him. “You read it?”

“Hmm. An interesting read, though I much prefer mechanics.”

“Is that what you want to do?”

“Yes, I think so. I’ve been reading a lot about random matrix theory. I’d like to go into the field of statistical mechanics.”

“I look forward to reading one of your research papers one day.”

They hold each other’s gaze for a moment, though she doesn’t miss the faintest of pink that tinges his cheeks.

It’s the day of the presentations, and just as she’d suspected, almost every group in the glass has presented back a table relating to how the Fibonacci sequence creates a spiral. Her and Michael share a knowing look, a smug smirk of satisfaction on each of their faces.

Aside from one presentation, which did in fact focus on rabbits, but delved too deeply into mating habits to be considered mathematical, theirs is entirely unique.

She beams with pride as she catches the impressed smile of Professor Byrne from the corner of her eye as they stand at the front of the lecture hall, talking through their findings.

“Very well done, both of you,” she tells them as they return to their seats.

The compliment makes her heart soar, providing her with a rush that lasts long after the class has been dismissed.

“Let’s go to the pub,” she says excitedly to Michael as they walk down Woodstock Road, away from the Mathematical Institute.

“You want to go to the pub? It’s the middle of the day.”

“There are no more lectures today, and I feel like celebrating. We really impressed Professor Byrne.”

Fifteen minutes later they’re sitting in the Lamb and Flag. A bright pink straw juts out of the neck of her bottle of Smirnoff Ice, and she rolls it between her fingers playfully as she watches Michael sip his pint.

The pub is half full with other students, all either skipping lectures or making the most of a free period.

“I told you that focusing on flowers would make us stand out,” she says, unable to suppress her grin.

Michael swallows his beer, wiping his mouth the back of his hand once he’s settled the pint glass back down on the beer mat. “Yeah, you did. We made the rest of the class look like losers,” he says with a chuckle.

“Yeah, we make quite the team, don’t we?”

He smiles, lowering his gaze and nods. There it is again, that adorable pink flush that dusts his cheeks.

“I’m gonna go to the loo. Will you watch my drink for me?”

He nods, watching as she stands and walks to the ladies.

Five minutes later, she can no longer see him at their table as she returns, though both their drinks are still there. She peers around the corner, seeing him standing before a larger group of students. A few she has seen around before, though they’re not on their course.

“So, is she your girlfriend then?” She overhears one of the guys ask Michael.

“No, not my girlfriend,” he responds, “but I’m helping her get over a break up, if you know what I mean.”

She swallows, feeling her heart lurch as she listens, unable to believe what she’s hearing.

“Oh yeah? Really helping her get over it, I bet,” the guy says, earning raucous laughter from the rest of the group.

She storms towards them, deciding she’s heard enough. Despite wanting to sound angry, her voice trembles as she speaks, betraying the tears she’s fighting to hold back. “I haven’t slept with you!” She shouts at Michael, meeting his shocked, wide eyed stare. “I would never sleep with you!”

Turning on her heel, the pub door swings open with a squeak of hinges as she pulls on it. She walks quickly down St. Giles’, swiping angrily at the tears that have begun to roll down her cheeks.

How could he? They were supposed to be friends and he’d talked about her as though she was something cheap. She had thought Michael was different to everyone else.

Back in her room, a hollow ache has burrowed its way into her chest, as she lays flat on her back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. The high of that morning’s presentation is long forgotten as her mind races with thoughts of what she’d overheard in the pub.

Why had he spoken about her like that? Had he been pretending to like her all this time just for the sake of the presentation?

Nausea swirls in her gut as she’s startled from her throughs by a soft knock at her door. She knows who it will be before she even answers it, and is half tempted to simply ignore it, she doesn’t want to see him. However, curiosity gets the better of her and before she can stop herself, she’s moving towards the door to open it.

Michael stands on the other side, posture not as straight as it usually is, as his shoulders slope and he looks at her imploringly. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he looked remorseful, but he is too self assured for such emotions.

“What do you want?” She asks tiredly.

“I’m sorry,” he says meekly, his voice softer than usual. “I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” she snaps. “So why did you?!”

“When you went to the toilet, that group called me over, started asking questions and I…I don’t know…I just wanted to feel what it would be like to be normal, just once. I–”

She feels anger run hot in her blood, nostrils flaring as he speaks and cuts him off. “I’m not here to act as your fucking cloak of normality, Michael! Fortunately, we’ve already given the presentation.”

“What do you mean?” He asks, brows pinching together with concern.

“I mean that the need for us to continue speaking to one another is over.”

She slams the door in his face, choking back a sob.

Fuck Michael Gavey. She is so incredibly angry with him, she wants nothing more to do with him. And yet she can’t understand why it hurts so much, somehow this feels worse than what Rich had done to her.

The next few days are torturous. She avoids Michael as much as she can, sitting away from him in lectures, looking away when she catches him staring at her. Seeing him online on MSN makes her heart ache, yet she can’t find it in herself to simply block and delete him. It feels too final somehow, worsened by the fact that she stares obsessively at his username, a part of her hoping a message will pop up from him. It never does.

Life goes back to feeling bland and lonely, with nothing to look forward to anymore. She goes about her days, alone, and then sits in her room, alone.

A week later and she is back in Professor Byrne’s class, only this time she seats herself as far away from Michael as she possibly can, trying not to think about how happy she’d felt to present beside him the last time she was in this room.

“So, I hope you all enjoyed your introductory project,” she begins, as she enters the room, setting her briefcase down upon the desk at the front. “It wasn’t just an exercise in presenting what you know about the Fibonacci sequence, it was a test of how well you work in pairs. That being said, the person you worked with will also be the person you are paired with for your upcoming tutorials with me.”

Her heart sinks.

No, no, no.

Chancing a glance over at Michael, she feels herself grow hot as she sees he’s already looking at her, and she quickly turns away. She had hoped to be able to avoid him, but now would have to spend an hour in close confines with him once a week for the remainder of first year.

Her heart races for the rest of the lecture and she finds herself unable to concentrate, hurriedly packing her bag and rushing to leave the room the moment they’re dismissed.

Unfortunately, Michael has beaten her to it and is waiting for her in the corridor. She bows her head, moving to step around him, but he blocks her path.

“I’ll ask for a different tutorial partner,” he says, “you needn’t worry about having to interact with me.”

She looks up at him, her eyes wide with shock. Her throat tightens as she’s met with the sight of his baby blues, boring a hole into her. “Don’t…don’t do that. It would look bad to Professor Byrne. We can both be mature about this.”

Silently she forces away the sadness she feels at him not wanting to be partnered with her. He’s in the wrong, not the other way around, she has to remind herself.

“As long as you’re sure?” He asks, shifting from one foot to the other, clearly feeling as uneasy as she does.

“I’m sure. I’ll see you around,” she tells him, finally stepping past and walking away.

“See you tomorrow,” he calls after her.

What?!

She rifles in her bag, pulling out her freshly printed timetable.

There it is. Tutorial - 9.05 - Prof. Byrne.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

She is filled with restless energy until the next morning. Her leg bounces involuntarily as she sits in the armchair next to Michael’s in the small, stuffy room of Professer Byrne’s office, who is seated opposite them.

Her eyes scan the shelves of books, the various notebooks that are fanned across the table, anything to avoid looking at Michael, until the older woman speaks.

“So, I hope you’ve both come with notes prepared to discuss the various ways of describing and displaying data, as discussed yesterday?”

Her face blanches. She’d been too distracted following the tutorial announcement to pay attention, and hadn’t heard her assign this. She has done no reading or note taking.

Michael glances over at her, taking in her worried expression. “Actually,” he interjects, “I think we may have misunderstood the instructions. We worked on this as a pair too, I hope you’ll forgive us just this once?”

The professor sighs, crossing her legs and tapping her pen against her pad. “Fine. Just this once. But I require individual work moving forward, you aren’t earning your degrees as a joint effort.”

“Understood,” Michael nods, rifling through his papers. “Here,” he says, leaning across and handing her a few sheets. “These are your notes.”

Slowly she takes them from him, her eyes scanning the pages, mostly graphs and tables of data, easy enough to understand and explain, without needing context.

“Thank you,” she says quietly, offering him a small smile.

The tutorial goes ahead without any further hiccups. Michael talks passionately and competently about what he’s read and the notes he’s taken, and she manages to talk through the data points he has provided her. If Professor Byrne suspects any unpreparedness, she doesn’t say.

Once it’s over and they step out into the hallway, she hands the papers back to him. “Why did you do that?” She asks quietly.

“You hadn’t prepared anything,” he says with a shrug.

“That was really nice of you.”

“It’s the least I owe you.”

“Thank you.”

He nods. “It won’t happen a second time. Come prepared next week. I want to hear what that brilliant mind of yours can come up with.”

There it is again. Brilliant mind.

She smiles at that, though her heart twists painfully in her chest as she watches him walk away. This is what she had wanted, she has to remind herself, he’d disrespected her.

Another two weeks go by, and though she is lonely it gets easier not having to avoid Michael. She finds their weekly tutorials are something she looks forward to, enraptured by how fervently he speaks about each topic, and preening with pride as he sits clearly impressed as she talks through her own notes and findings.

She misses him, though she is too proud to admit it. He had hurt her, and she’d told him to stay away. It would be humiliating to crawl back to him after that.

It’s Friday night and she’s in desperate need of a snack, so heads out of her room in the direction of the vending machines, running straight into a group of girls from her floor as they’re walking out.

Their giggles die down to silence as they see her, all offering her awkward, but obviously fake smiles.

“Not out tonight?” One of them asks, she’s fairly certain her name is Annabel, from what she’s heard in the corridors.

She shakes her head. “No, not tonight.”

“You could come out with us? We’re off to The Bull.”

She scans the faces of the other girls, all clearly less than enthusiastic about her presence, then shakes her head. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

“Oh, darling, I wasn’t asking,” Annabel giggles, grabbing her arm.

Less than thirty minutes later she finds herself squashed around a table in The Bullingdon, next to Annabel. She recognises Felix and Farleigh as part of the group they’ve joined, all passing around Jägerbombs and cigarettes.

She feels out of place and underdressed, in jeans and a long sleeved shirt. The rest of the girls are all dressed up in colourful, sparkly eyeshadow and low cut tops.

Amidst the din of their laughter and seemingly endless chatter, set to a backdrop of ‘SOS’ by Rhianna, she can barely hear herself think. She sips anxiously at her coke, pressing her lips together and shaking her head when Annabel jiggles the 35cl bottle of vodka she’s produced from her bag, asking “want some voddy in that?”

Her focus is pulled away when she spots Michael tucked away in the corner. He’s sitting opposite the guy she saw him with on the first night, whose name she has since learned is Oliver.

Her and Michael lock eyes and he gives her a polite nod before returning his focus back to his own conversation. To be so close and yet so far from him makes her ache.

Try as she might, her gaze keeps wandering back to him, unable to focus on the people around her. She watches with keen interest as he rises from his table, headed towards the gents as Oliver makes his way to the bar.

“Olly! Olly! Over here!” Shouts Felix, and to her surprise, Oliver skulks over, with the body language of someone who’s about to ask them for spare change rather than join their group.

She raises an eyebrow as Felix shuffles over, making space for him to sit down and wonders if Michael will join them too.

Her question is answered when he returns from the toilets, giving Oliver an awkward wave which goes unanswered.

“Shit sorry,” Felix says, “are you here with your mate?”

“Nah, he’s just leaving,” Oliver says nonchalantly, accepting the shot he’s been passed.

From the way Michael bows his head and leaves the pub, she knows that’s the furthest thing from the truth, and shoots Oliver a pointed look.

“‘Scuse me,” she says quietly to Annabel, pushing out of her seat and following after Michael.

The chilly October air is biting against her skin in juxtaposition with the sticky warmth of the pub, as she attempts to follow his lanky gait.

“Michael, wait!” She calls after him, hurrying her steps to catch him up.

He stops, turning to her, a look of defeat on his face. “Go back to your mates.”

“They’re not my mates, and they’re not yours either,” she says softly. “I saw what Oliver did to you, that was out of order.”

“The closest thing I’ve felt to normal since coming here is hanging out with you,” he tells her. “The rest of them are all vapid cunts.”

“Then let’s go back to hanging out again,” she offers, stepping towards him.

“After what I did to you?” He asks, raising his eyebrows.

“I miss my friend,” she says honestly, “come on, we’ll make our own fun, we don’t need those losers.”

He laughs softly, and for the first time in weeks she feels whole again.

There’s an odd sense of coming home as she steps inside of Michael’s room, the welcoming warmth wrapping itself around her like a familiar blanket.

“There’s beer under the desk,” he tells her, closing the door behind him.

She makes her way over towards it, pausing when she sees the papers on top of it.

A First Course in Random Matrix Theory for Physicists, Engineers and Data Scientists is printed in large font on the top page, she lifts it away, seeing that on the second is a simple dedication to her.

Her heart flutters as she draws in a shaky breath. “What’s this?”

“Fuck!” He exclaims, eyes going wide as he steps towards the desk. “I hadn’t expected you to come back here. I’d forgotten I’d left this out. You said in the library a few weeks ago that you’d be keen to read my first paper when I published it. It isn’t finished, but I wanted to dedicate it you, since you made my first week here so–”

She presses her lips to his, hands reaching up to cup his cheeks as she kisses him fiercely. Michael returns the gesture, long arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her close.

“...so wonderful,” he finishes breathlessly, pressing his forehead to hers when they finally part for air.

“I look forward to reading it,” she grins up at him.

“Well, if you wanted, you could–”

“Do you really want me to read your paper right now?” She asks, gripping the front of his t-shirt and pulling him towards the bed.

“On second thoughts…”

He pulls her back in and their mouths meet again, desperate and needy as they topple onto the bed, tugging eagerly at each other’s clothing, quickly undressing each other.

Their pace slows once they are fully bare, and she runs her hands up and down the length of Michael’s sturdy back, enjoying the weight of his lithe body on top of hers.

“I missed you,” she whispers.

“I was an idiot,” he tells her, holding his weight up on his palms.

“Mmmm. The most stupid genius I know.”

He huffs a laugh. “I think I know just the thing that might cheer you up,” he tells her, moving down her body.

She props herself up on her elbows, watching with keen interest as he moves down her body, placing her legs over his shoulders once he reaches the juncture of her thighs.

He is hesitant at first, studying her closely, but then presses forward. She yelps at the sensation, all of his focus is on the bundle of nerves at the apex of her sex, and it feels electrifyingly intense with the motion in which the tip of his tongue moves against it. It’s too much.

She squirms, pushing him away with a squeal.

“Did you not like that?” He asks, seeming unsure of himself as he sits on his haunches, adjusting his glasses.

“It was a bit too much,” she admits, giggling slightly.

“Oh…sorry,” he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, “I read you’re supposed to shape out the letters of the alphabet when you do that. I’ve always been more of a numbers man, so I went for Pi instead.”

She laughs loudly, reaching for him when he bows his head in embarrassment. “There’ll be plenty of time for that later. Right now, I just want you.”

“Come here,” she says, leaning over to rummage in her purse for a condom. “May I?”

He nods, shuffling closer as she tears open the packet. He hisses through his teeth when she wraps her hand around him. He’s warm and thick, foreskin silky smooth as she gently rubs her hand up and down the length of him, feeling every ridge and vein.

“Is this your first time?” She asks softly, as she rolls the rubber from tip to base.

“Um…yeah…is that a problem?” He asks, reluctantly meeting her eye.

“Not if it isn’t for you,” she tells him earnestly, free hand stroking his cheek. “Do you want me to go on top?”

He shakes his head. “No…no, I want to feel you.”

She smiles in understanding, laying back and coaxing him to move over her, spreading her legs to accommodate him.

He feels heavy against her entrance and she fights to resist the urge to cant her hips forward, wanting to take things at a pace he’s comfortable with.

His jaw slackens as he pushes forward, and she sighs in pleasure at the slow stretch of him bottoming out inside of her. Their breaths are hot against each other's necks as he stills, adjusting to the new sensation.

When he eventually withdraws to slowly push back in again, she moves her hips in time with his, encouraging him, and he quickly finds a rhythm. They are a clash of teeth and tongues as their mouths meet messily, hands exploring each other as the bed creaks beneath the exertion of their movements.

“F–fuck…you feel good..” he mutters, causing her to moan and her toes to curl, as he nudges against her sweet spot.

She could come from this if he keeps it up, and she can feel herself clenching around him as the beginnings of her peak approach. Right as she teeters on the edge, he groans, pulsating and spilling into the sheath that separates them.

“Sorry..” he whispers, looking at her with fogged up lenses.

“It’s okay,” she reassures him, her fingers stroking through the hair at the side of his head, brushing over the temple of his glasses. “It felt good.”

“But you didn’t…you know…”

“Plenty of time for that,” she says, pecking his lips. “Like I said, we’ll make our own fun, won’t we?”

“Get another condom then,” he says, pulling out of her. “I’ve still got some making up to do.”

#michael gavey x reader #michael gavey #michael gavey x y/n #michael gavey x you #michael gavey imagine #michael gavey smut #michael gavey angst #saltburn #ewan mitchell #michael gavey fan fiction #michael gavey fanfiction #michael gavey fan fic #michael gavey fanfic #saltburn fan fiction #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn fanfic #saltburn fan fic #michael gavey saltburn #saltburn michael gavey

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angelltheninth · 1 year

Text

Wall Crawling Lover Boy

Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, wall sex, power use, whimpering (Peter), bareback, the costume stays mostly on, grinding, creampie, teasing, post-mission sex, sex pollen, needy Peter Parker, horny Peter Parker

Word count: 1.6k

Ao3

A/N: I don't know how this got into my head cause I was just writing a sweet domestic post with the MCU characters and then I have no idea what happened.

Waiting for Peter to come back from patrol was a nightly routine for you. He was rarely late and when he was he would call to tell you, this applied most when the two of you had date nights planned out. Tonight was one such night, you had movies and snacks ready as you knew he'd be a little hungry after a mission.

The opening of your window no longer gave you pause as there was only one person who would climb up to open and enter through. Instead of him smiling and arms open for a hug you saw Pete with his mask in his hand, both hands crossed over his crotch and face as red as his suit, looking very flustered and uncomfortable.

Worried you made quick strides towards him, movie and snacks forgotten, "Peter? What's wrong? You don't look so..." He flinched back from your touch, looking to be in some kind of psychical pain. Your fingers barely skimmed his skin feeling how overheated it was, "You're really warm. Did something go wrong?"

Peter blinked, choosing not to meet your eyes, "No..." He tried to shrug it off, shifting under your unyielding gaze, your arms crossed over your chest, "Sort of. I have a... um, a... um... problem."

"What kind of problem?" You raised your eyebrow looking him over once again. He didn't seem hurt, just restless.

With a groan and some hesitation he moved his hands to his sides, revealing a bulge and a wet spot on the front of his suit. "This kind."

"Oh." You answered, surprised, "Was the villain a really hot lady?" You teased, but let some jealousy slip though.

"No! She was a lady but not hotter then you. I don't know what she did to me! It was toward the end of the fight, she was losing and then injected me with something. I had to tail it out of there before the cops and the photographers showed up. Can you imagine the headlines?"

"Spider-Man gets a boner while fighting a villainess. It would sell." You jabbed at him playfully, and all he did was hide his hands behind his hands, letting out a loud, embarrassed groan. Even with a raging boner he was still so cute. "I'm sorry." Your chuckle made it very obvious that you weren't sorry in the slightest.

Peter let out a heavy sigh, troubled by his current predicament. Sure he managed to save face, in the public eye at least, yet now he was standing in front of you, clearly wanting, needy, vibrating and shaking with lust.

He's been pent up before, after long missions. He knew the benefits of masturbation but he also knew how good it felt to spill in your hand before you took his cock inside of you and fucked the rest of his cum out with your pussy. That's clearly what he needed right now too, but he was too much of a sweetheart to ask.

"I'll go and take a-"

"Want some help with that?"

His eyes widened significantly, mask falling to the ground in silence. He was left stunned for a few seconds, his body going rigid, the dark stain on the front of his pants growing bigger as his cock twitched. In a blink of an eye he was in front of you, not only that but he grabbed you under your thighs and pinned you up on the nearest wall, his thighs under you to support your weight and his fingers digging into the wall so much you though he was gonna leave a dent.

"You mean it? You wanna help me with it?" His hips rolled into yours, his breath coming out in deep, loud, hot puffs against your ear. You nodded, placing a light kiss on Peter's cheek. He was more pent up then you thought. The moment you reached down to free his cock and give it a few strokes he was already rolling his hips desperately into your hand, whimpering, "Cu-ah! Babe I'm-!

Ropes of cum exploded over your hand and lower stomach, "Shit." You let out a long breath, feeling more then seeing how hot and hard and slippery his cock was in your hand. Your thumb moved to circle and soothe the aching tip, drawing more strings of cum with every swipe. "I don't think there was ever this much. I kinda wanna know what was in that shot."

"I don't. You already make me walk around with a boner, this... this is just torture." If he had this much cum stored up then it's a miracle he even got to your apartment without incident. "I needed that. It felt like my dick and balls were about to explode."

"Can't let that happen, you know how much I love them." With your other hand you coaxed his lips towards yours, "And the person they belong to even more."

"Yourself?" Peter winked at you playfully. His sense of humor was coming back, not the only thing that was coming though, his cock was still throbbing under your hand.

"Well I do love myself, but I was talking about you in this case." You squeezed his cock at the base and very slowly dragged your hand up, savoring the way his eyes closed and the little whimper he barely held back.

His cock clearly needed more then just your hand, it needed something to sink into. Something you knew he needed fast or he was gonna ruin your clothes again.

"What are you waiting for lover boy? Don't you want my pussy?" Just hearing the word made him thrust his hips forward. You felt like you were playing a dangerous game with a dangerous spider, something that you never felt with Peter before. He looked only seconds away from fucking you into the wall.

Normally his hands were calm, precise, gentle when handling you, now they were shaking, needy, rough as they pulled your pants and your panties down, his finger wiping away the wetness before he got his bearings on the wall again.

He was so driven mad by lust that he couldn't even wait to get inside of you, he just started thrusting wildly against your naked pussy, "Fuck! Fuck!" He whined and growled against your lips, his forehead slick with sweat gathering at his brows, "Want to be inside you so much."

"I know, I know." You calmed him down with a few soft kisses, "I need you too. It's a little unfair that you came already and I'm still left hanging don't you think?"

"I'll make you come." He rolled his hips again, this time the head finally slid into place, "So warm." He leaned his forehead against yours as his cock went all the way inside of your cunt, "Oh my god. I can feel you around me." He barely rolled his hips forward before he screamed against your shoulder, another unexpected flood of cum releasing from his cock, "Sorry." His voice shook just as much as his body as he clumsily started thrusting into you, intent on making good in his word.

You pulled him close, your arms and legs locking around him, trusting in him to keep you from falling. Although the sheer force of his thrusts was enough to make sure of that, bouncing you up with every deep hit of his cock against the entrance to your womb.

The constant, loud, sound of flesh slapping against flesh, and of Peter's full balls slapping against you, filled your ears while your mind and pussy only wanted one thing: his cum, again. Fuck was the thing he was hit with transferable? If so then you needed to get it out of your systems quickly.

"Peter, please, I need it. My pussy full of your cum." The words traveled straight into his cock and hips, bucking forward with urgent need.

"I got you babe. I'll make that hole so full just like you need. But first you need to come for me. You can do that for me can't you? You can... fuck... squeeze my cock with that good, wet cunt and milk me dry." Peter was no stranger to dirty talk but he never asked something like this of you so directly and without an ounce of hesitation. "Come. Wanna feel you come!"

He was whimpering as he held back, waiting for you. There was no point in dragging this out anymore. "Just don't keep me waiting lover boy." Your body feel against his as your orgasm reached it's peak, flooding his cock and balls with your cum, all the while he kept going, making you see white.

Peter didn't intend to keep you waiting, he was right behind you, drilling his cock into your spasming pussyhole, each thrust harder and longer then the last until he stayed like that, hips against yours, his cum flowing into you.

He slowly slid down the wall, his cock falling out and causing the cum to run out like a river. Peter frowned again gathered some of it on his finger before pushing it inside of you, "That should stay in there."

"You think so?" You wiggled your hips and squeezed around his finger. Peter let out a long breath, nodding at you, his finger flexing forward a little, "Then maybe you should put something bigger in." Your eyes fell on his still rock hard cock.

"I think so too. I also think I'm gonna need to take a weekend off. I wanna spend it balls deep inside your pussy."

"Funny, I was thinking the same thing. Now take me to the bedroom, I wanna see how much I need to ride you to make that go down." Peter flashed you his familiar charming grin and swooped you up, and keeping his word pushed his cock back into you, making you let out a long groan and making you pussy flutter with a growing need.

This was gonna take a long time.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter x reader #peter parker smut #peter smut #marvel #marvel smut #marvel x reader #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman smut #mcu x reader #mcu smut #mcu fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #peter parker fanfiction #smut

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vavaxx · 8 months

Text

Safety first

Nikolai x reader (+ Fyodor)

[ !! : nsfw, afab reader, DUBIOUS CONSENT, groping, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, degrading, hair pulling, choking kink, praising, voyeurism, some kind of aftercare ] wc: 1.4k

beware of the tags!! this could be DISTURBING for some readers, consent is stated mid act!

(basically cop Nikolai fucks you on a car and you agree to it halfway trough)

﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉

A soft breeze brushed over your exposed legs as you were returning home from your shift late at night.

Walking in the dark streets of the city was always a little worrying, never knowing what or who you could bump into, but seeing some policemen around was reassuring. They were there for people's safety, right?

Turning into a darker alleyway, you noticed a young white-haired cop leaning against his car, looking gently at you.

As you approached him, he immediately got closer to you, towering your figure with his tall body.

"Having a good night, miss? May I help you?" he said in a soft tone, looking at you directly in the eyes.

"Good evening sir" you said turning your head to the side, avoiding eye contact no, I don't need anything, thanks".

Suddenly his gloved hand came up to grab your chin and he made you turn to look at him.

"Are you sure, pretty? It's my job to help a young lady in need. I can take you home safely, you know the city is dangerous at this time..."

Your face showed your doubts. Trusting a random man, even if he called himself a cop, was still risky, but his appearance was inviting to say the least. He seemed to be around his late 20s, with snowy hair, beautiful eyes and a charming smile, to say the least.

"No need to worry angel, look! I am a policeman" he said, removing his hand from your face and pointing at a badge where you could read the name 'Nikolai'. "If you don't believe me, call the station, they'll confirm it!"

Too tired to investigate, you agreed to Nikolai's nice invitation, and with an imperceptible smirk on his face, he let you sit in the backseat. He then started driving to the address you gave him.

But as you were letting yourself relax, you saw a big hand appear from a hole in space and brush over your chest, in the tentative of unbuttoning your shirt. Gasping in surprise, you quickly tried to move away.

Panic started running through your body as he successfully opened your shirt and found its way under your bra. Ignoring your "No"s and pleas, he started toying with one of your nipples. The feeling of his fingers pinching your sensitive spot sent shivers all around your body, and the idea of how things could've continued further made your panties get wet. Why was your body reacting this way?!

"Can't you stay still back there? Driving is difficult with such chaos in the car, y'know." and as you looked at him, you could see his arm disappear under a black cloak on the passenger seat.

You didn't answer, too occupied in getting away from his hand when it disappeared to immediately materialized onto your thighs, gripping the soft flesh and smacking his palm here and there.

"Mh just stop, please" was all that could escape from your mouth before his hand lifted your skirt and pushed your damp panties aside.

"Ohh, and why would I listen to you begging when your wet cunt is telling me otherwise?" with that he pushed his finger further, with his thumb playing with your sensitive clit and the rest spreading your folds. You couldn't keep your mouth shut, at least not when his big hand was pleasuring you that much.

"I can't believe I brought in this car such filthy whore like you" he laughed at your moans, and, still panicking, you looked out the window only to see dark fields and not a soul within miles.

Looking down at your crotch, you felt two fingers enter your hole and get out full of slick, then he started pumping them in and out. The stretch felt so good and painful at the same time, and the biggest relief was the constant stimulation of your puffy bud.

"I see you can't wait any longer, can you?" he said smiling, turning the steering wheel around and stopping on the side of an empty road, where the only light source was a nearby street lamp.

Suddenly his hand between your thighs disappeared through his portal. Being your brain already dizzy, you couldn't follow his fast motions, and you soon found yourself out, bent with your stomach on the car hood with two big hands holding your waist.

He clicked his tongue, taking a view of your exposed ass and thighs touching against his bulge. You tried in vain to get up, to somehow escape his grip, scared of how things could've gone further, but his grip was too firm and you fell back down with your cheek on the cold metal.

"Don't try too hard pretty, I don't want you to tire yourself too much," he paused, removing some hair that covered your face. "Well, at least not this early."

"Now that we're here, do I have your consent to proceed, miss?"

The first thought you had was, why would he ask this now? How could he care now, when in that backseat it could still be seen the wet spot you left?

"I-, uh yes but m-" your words were immediately interrupted.

"Wonderful! I promise you'll enjoy my show as much as I will." One of his hands travelled down your back, sliding over your pulled-up skirt and teasing your entrance.

Then you heard him pull his trousers down to his knees and turned your head to take a look at him. Under his boxers there was a big bulge, which made you widen your eyes for a moment. "Like what you see?"

And getting rid of his underwear he revealed a 7 or so inches cock, already hard from your sounds and feeling only.

"What a whore, mouth watering over a stranger's dick, who's about to fuck you on a car hood." He leaned over you, getting closer to your ear to whisper "get as loud as you want darling, it's not like we're gonna getcaught."

That's what sent shivers through your body, more than the cold metal that pressed against your stomach. The thought of getting used, alone, lost in the dark by a stranger (a really attractive one), was a weird turn on surprisingly.

What brought you back from your thoughts was a deep thrust of his cock into your hole, pushing your body even harder on that coldness. His girth stretched you out so well that you could feel his tip slide against your warm walls.

"Mhpf" and other blabbering escaped your mouth when he started setting a merciless pace into your pussy, letting his balls hit your folds every time.

"God, how I love lost girls like you, ngh! Pretty girls so willing..." A sharp thrust made you whine loudly and your eyes closed shut. "...to get helped!"

His tip reached your sweet spot everytime, leaving you fucked out and pleasuring perfectly.

Big hands wrapped around your bust and neck, squeezing slightly on the side of it like you weren't already dizzy enough from his treatment. Soon the other hand slid down to your clit, brushing over it to feel your pussy clench and let out other slick, which was already mixing to the policeman's precum.

As you sightly opened your eyes, you saw two lights on the street get closer, and you realised in horrendous shock it was a car.

"Oh look! Ahh, we have a visitor!" Nikolai said, grabbing you by the hair and forcing your head up.

The car slowed down as it passed in front of you, a man with shoulder-length black hair and dark eyes gave a perverted smirk at the two of you, taking a mental image of your situation.

You made eye contact with him with half-lidded eyes and mouth hung open in pleasure, probably trying to whimper out something like 'get away' or 'please', but the way Nikolai was still pushing himself deep into you made it impossible.

The car eventually proceeded its way and you were left again with the policeman.

Hm, is my pretty slut on the pill?" and as you dizzily nodded, gripping your waist with both of his hands, he came in you, deep and filling you up to the brim with his cum.

You lied tired and dirty on the car hood, and after some minutes he grabbed you with his strong arms and let you rest inside the car.

You woke up in your apartment, lying on your bed with a clean pair of underwear, but still sticky inside, your brain still too foggy to understand how all of that could've happened.

#bsd smut #nikolai gogol #nikolai smut #nikolai gogol smut #bsd x reader #bsd #bungo stray dogs smut #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #nikolai bsd #bsd nikolai #decay of angels #smut #smut x reader

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xxchumanixx · 2 months

Text

Sing me a Lullaby

Tim Bradford x reader

Warnings/Tags: character death, angst, fluff, hurt

Word count: 482

Authors note: Hey guys, don't know how this happened, but I suddenly had this idea. If my goal is to make you cry? Maybe. I did (but only a little bit, I swear). The song mentioned is Lullabye from Billy Joel.

I would say enjoy, but...

There weren't a lot of things Tim Bradford was scared of.

Still he couldn't sleep, having a hard time to calm down.

With you it was different.

Whenever he couldn't sleep you would sing him a lullaby, calming down his racing heart and erasing the horrible things he saw, when he closed his eyes.

He had seen a lot of things no one should ever see in their lives.

No matter how often he told himself that he was strong, your presence and your sweet voice that filled his head, luring him to sleep, were the only things that helped him at night.

"Goodbye my angel, time to close your eyes." you would sing, your fingers brushing through his hair as you smelled his familiar scent.

"And save these questions for another day. I think I know what you've been asking me, I think you know what I've been trying to say."

It was a song as old as you were, your father singing it to you whenever you couldn't sleep as a baby. It continued even when you grew older, until he died of cancer when you were still very young.

You knew every word of it by heart, the song having a deep meaning for you. Tim knew that, feeling honored that you decided to share it with him.

You were his save haven, his light.

So when you were on patrol with your rookie, a call turning out to be a shooting like you'd rarely seen, his thoughts were trained on you, trying to get you all out of there alive as the supervising officer.

He silently gave administrations, telling you where to go and where to position yourselves, waiting for his signal.

It should have been easy, going in, arresting the drug dealer, going back out.

But it wasn't.

When you stormed the abandoned storage hall, they'd already been waiting for you.

Hiding behind boxes you waited for a clear shot, all the while looking out for the others. Firing whenever you were able to, you shot one down, Tim shooting another one.

There was backup right behind you, Harper, Nolan, Grey, Lucy and some other cops.

When you had shot all of them down, you released a sigh of relief. Even though they managed to surprise you, only one got shot in the leg.

Coming out from your hiding spot you followed Tim and Harper, as they slowly made their way forward.

There was no one in sight, causing you to frown. But you would have never complained about something easier than it looked.

But suddenly, your body jerked forward, straight towards Tim, who's face was sprinkled with blood.

Before you could have asked yourself where the blood came from, you fell into his arms, suddenly having trouble to breathe.

Tim's eyes widened in horror, as he slowly sank down onto his knees with you in his arms.

"No..." he breathed, as you started to feel the pain. A shot rang, as you heard someone call clear.

"No, no, no, no, no!" Tim panicked, frantically pressing his hands to the wound in your chest.

He couldn't lose you.

"Y/N, stay with me!" he shouted, though it seemed to blur, as your fingers slowly brushed over his cheek, adding more blood to it as your body convulsed.

You didn't get enough air into your lungs. It was like something blocked your airways, as you struggled.

Someone called for an ambulance, as Tim pressed harder on your wound. His fingers were full of your blood, as it seemed to just seep through, no matter his attempts of stopping it.

"Y/N!" you heard him shout your name again, as tears formed in his eyes, one after another freeing themselves. "I can't lose you, please, stay with me!"

A hot tear ran down your cheek, as you tried to understand what was happening through the fog in your brain. "I-I love you, T-Tim." you sputtered, blood seeping from your mouth.

"I love you too, so don't dare dying on me now!" he gave back, shaking as he sobbed.

You felt so cold, numb.

"Sing me a lullaby." you asked of him, as you noticed how black blotches started to cover your vision.

He stared at you for a moment, speechless. But he did as you asked him to, silently praying that the ambulance would make it in time.

"Goodbye my angel, time to close your eyes." His voice broke, as a sob racked through him, tears running into his open mouth. "And save these questions for another day."

His heart wrenched, as he fell silent, trying to find back his voice, hands still pressing on your wound.

"I think I know what you've been asking me." he continued, your body hanging limp in his arms. "I think you know what I've been trying to say. I promised I would never leave you, and you should always know, wherever you may go, no matter where you are, I never will be very far."

Anther sob racked through him, his body shaking as he sung the words he remembered by heart.

"Goodbye my angel, now it's time to sleep."

He didn't know that you never heard his last words, even if they meant the world to him.

But as you lay dying in his arms, you knew he was your home. And wherever you may go, you would be his.

Always and forever.

#tim bradford x you #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford #the rookie x u #the rookie imagine #the rookie x reader #the rookie #john nolan x u #john nolan x reader #john nolan imagine #john nolan

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fashion-runways · 2 years

Text

okay, i promised an explanation and i won’t go into too many details because honestly i’m still kind of a mess and there’s a lot we don’t know yet and everything but-- 2 weeks ago out of nowhere, in the middle of the night at 6am cops showed up at our home and raided our apartment and stuck around up until 2pm just making a mess of the whole place and taking photos and whatever, they broke the downstairs front door (which we now have to pay to replace off our own money), made an absolute mess of every room in the apartment, took every electronic device except our phones (and that’s only because i started crying about having all my healthcare info on an app and how i was going to lose all my appointments, and i think they felt bad for us?) and detained my father. they have barely given us information on what he’s accused of, they’re still nowhere near investigating those devices they took so they won’t give them back to us, and we have no freaking idea if or when my dad is coming back, because again, they’re not giving us a lot of information. on top of that my dad is pretty old, he's 65, he was supposed to have surgery this month because he can’t see very well from one eye (his workplace was paying for it) and he kinda can’t hear very well from one ear too, even though he refuses to accept it, and he’s been on anxiety medication for a while, so i’m kind of scared of what will happen to him without actual medical care or a nice place to sleep every night?? i don’t know. i truly don't.

now, this as you can imagine is traumatizing enough as it was, and it continues to be, but on top of that my dad was pretty much the only person with a stable job and a concistent income in this family, so now that he’s detained and we literally have no idea when he’ll come back, me and my mom got basically left in the dark. and even if he comes back, like, i don’t know, next week? i’m pretty sure he’ll get fired because he’s been missing work for 2 weeks now. i have some money that i saved from the stuff you guys send me, my mom has some money she makes, but it’s... obviously not enough, and this is a really stressful situation to be in, obviously, i wouldn't wish this on my worst enemies tbh.

so... i don’t know. i can’t promise i’ll post anything new because i’m limited to mobile for god knows how long, that’s why i’ve been reposting stuff. and if you want to help, if you enjoy the blog, if you have anything to spare, that would really be helpful. i know this sounds insane what happened, and trust me it still doesn’t feel real sometimes?? like i’m going to wake up and it'll be a bad dream? i don’t know. as always, since i’m from latin america, anything helps. literally even the smallest amount of money helps. sorry this post is so long and so trauma dump-y, but i said i’d explain and i need help more than ever, this blog is basically the only semi-stable thing i have income wise. if anyone wants me to tag this with any trigger warning specifically, let me know, i wouldn’t know what to tag this myself.

anyway, i have my kofi account that i link in every post i make here: https://ko-fi.com/fashionrunways and my redbubble account: https://www.redbubble.com/people/dinah-lance/shop if you’d want to buy something instead. and as always thanks for loving this blog and for always helping us, i know it doesn't seem like it matters sometimes, but it does to me 💖

#text posts

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fanofstuff02 · 19 days

Text

PRISON AU IT IS!

AU by @rius-cave , although I added my own thoughts into it (For example, her idea was that Lute helping Adam but I wanted it to go more like the actual show, where I think Lute wouldn’t help Adam if he was a sinner.).

Tagging you @fightinsoda and @foreverpeachy2010 , hope you don’t mind.

Everyone’s roles:

People who’s in prison:

Lucifer: You’ll see

Husk/Hunter (I’m basic): Tax evasion/illegal gambling

Angel Dust/Anthony: That guy has a mafia family

Alastor: Spilling government secrets on radio (Still a serial killer)

Sir Pentious: Illegal weapon posession

Vox: Fraud

Valentino: Do I need to say something

Adam: Framed with murder

This is an all male prison yk

People out of prison:

Charlie: Law student

Emily: Also a law student

Vaggie: Fired cop

Lute: Cop

St Peter: Cop

Sera: Judge

Nifty: Canteen lady

Rosie: Prison nurse

Velvette: Crime partner of Vox, but managed to dodge going to prison

Do police officers can both patrol and do wardening? I have no idea. But this goes like that.

Also, sorry if this doesn’t has that much details. I tried not to copy @things-arent-what-they-seem66 ‘s fic. The next chapters will be better I swear.

ENJOYY!!!!

Also, I’ll post the new chapter of my favorite au a few hours later.

“Dad..?” A little kid came out from behind the desk where she was hiding and looked to his father. Why was his dad covered in red? And why wasn’t the person she didn’t knew moving? “Is he okay?”

“Don’t worry sweetie. It’ll be fine. You’ll be fine He can’t-“

“Stay away from her.” A slightly scared, but determined voice came from behind. “Charlie, come here.”

“Lily, you have to listen! He was going t-“

“I don’t care. Charlie, don’t go near him.” Lilith pulled her daughter to herself harshly and took her arm into her hands.

“I want to stay with daddy!” She fighted against her mother’s grip but she was too strong. Lilith gave Lucifer one more disgusted look and rushed to outside.

“LILITH!” Lucifer yelled as he wanted to go after them, but he froze when he heard someone shout.

“Stay where you are and raise your hands up in the air!” A police officer walked inside and pointed his gun to him.

Lucifer, who was still in shock, did what he said. He handcuffed him and guided him to a police car. He saw multiple polices around. Lilith was talking to one.

“I heard the intruder coming in. It was at my daughter’s room but instead of calling you, my husband decided to play the hero and end him himself. I’m hoping you will put an end to this.” Lilith’s eyes met with Lucifer’s, but she cut the eye contract. She couldn’t look him in the eye. All she saw was a murderer.

“I understand you ma’am. I hope you can get divorced easily.”

Lucifer then looked at his daughter. Oh, he could do anything to go near her, wipe her tears away, hug her and calm her down. Instead, he could just look at her. She teared her gaze from the stone floor and looked at her father. And at that moment, Charlie understood that her father wasn’t a monster like mommy said.

Lucifer only thought about how he failed as a dad while he was taken to prison.

— Today —

“Rise and cry you freaks!” Lucifer woke up with someone running their baton on the bars. It was loud.

“Mmmhm, that’s right! Get the fuck up before I make you.” He said.

Ah, of course. Officer Kadmon. A.k.a. the world’s biggest piece of shit. On his daily wisit.

“That mother fucker.” His cellmate groaned.

“Indeed.” He got up and grabbed one of his rubber ducks. Those always calmed him down.

“Whats the matter Morningstar? *random surname*? Uncomfortable?” Kadmon laughed at them, stopping at their cell.

“Nah, it’s more like a hotel to be honest.” He said calmly.

“Mocking me?” He hit their bars with his baton. “Too bad you’re not on the right position to do that right?”

“Don’t you have a better job to do?” The other guy spoke, annoyed.

“Aww, you don’t want me to break your other fingers? You want me to go the fuck away?” He said in a childish voice “Guess what! This is my fucking job you horse shit!” He laughed loudly, causing even more curse words. Shove that fucking stick up to your ass. Lucifer thought and stood up. Luckily the shithead didn’t realize.

“Goodbye bitches!” He kept walking but was immediately startled when the short prisoner squeaked the rubber duck on his hands near his ears. Nah, startled would be unfair. He literally jumped.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Morningstar!?” He tried to hit him behind bars but Lucifer was fast.

“Oops.” He chuckled and went back to his bed. It was worth it.

“Oh, do you wanna lose the privilege of your sissy hobbies?! I can make that happen!” He growled.

“Sure, sure.” He played with his duck, not caring about the screaming man.

“You’ll see, bitch.” He walked away to the other prisoners. “Back in your place huh, *Alastor’s surname*? I told them specifically to keep your cell empty!” He scoffed at the prisoner at the next cell, who hadn’t been around for a while because he escaped. Hunter said that it was Kadmon who caught and brought him back. Lucifer didn’t like Alastor, heck that prick thought he was being ‘creepy’ with his boring attitude. But at least he knew where he stood. Officer piglet didn’t.

“How nice of you, kind officer.” He could literally hear the smile on his voice. “I hope you had a wonderful week.”

“I did. Unlike you, pussy!”

— Awhile later —

Adam was on night patrol with Holly. He wished it was Lute, but that gal was nice too he guessed. She might be a gay, but she was still cool. He waited outside of a coffee shop as she got them some.

He was mumbling a song to himself when he heard a human voice coming from the woods. He was saying “You don’t own me.. You don’t own me…” repeatedly. He took his gun out just to be safe, he knew what kind of creeps there were at night. He walked off slowly there. There was an old man looking at him, and he was walking near him.

“Sir? Are you-“

“YOU DON’T OWN ME!” He screamed and made a dash to Adam, causing the officer to back down and pointing the gun at him.

And thats when he heard that. Someone shooting behind. Shooting the old man in the head right where he pointed his gun. He fell down, face all bloody.

Oh no.

“Oh shit. Shit shit shit shit!” Panic rose in Adam as he understood the crazy guy was dead.

“WHO’S THERE!” He shoot his gun at the woods. He heard someone else though.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” A guy, much saner than the old man came from behind. “YOU FUCKING KILLED HIM YOU CUNT! WHAT DID HE EVEN DO TO YOU!?” He pushed him away from the old man and looked at him. Adam couldn’t do anything as he saw the cries of the man.

Oh shit.

“Look, it was-!“

“YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS!”

He got up angrily, ready to beat the shit out of the police but then stopped when he saw the person had a gun. Instead, he ran to their police car in order to find another officer.

“WAIT!” He tried to track him down as he ran there. But immediately stopped when-

He heard a high pitched scream coming near him. It came from a woman who was just out of the coffee shop. She looked scared. “Officer, help!”

“No, look, it wasn’t-“

“Sir..?” Holly came rushing, she must’ve heard the woman, and froze when she saw Adam.

“Holly, you don’t-“ He tried to came closer to them but the guy yelled again.

“HE KILLED HIM!”

“I DIDN’T! Holly you have to-“ He shutted his mouth in shock as she pointed her gun at him, hands shaking.

“Don’t come any closer!” She stated. “Place your weapons infront of you and raise your hands where I can see them or else!”

“Come on-“ What the fuck?!

“If you don’t, I’ll-“

“Fine.” He did what she told. “Hey, what are you-“ He panicked even more when she reached him with handcuffs.

(Is this how this works? I have no fucking idea)

— After —

Adam was thrown to a court the following days. He came up with a lawyer, but there were evidence. The guy who saw him -he learned that it was his son- testified that it was him, and the woman did the same. And before you know it, he was charged for murder and sent to prison in an orange jumpsuit. He didn’t understood what happened clearly until he was placed in the middle of the general population of prison.

“Wait! I didn’t do that shit! It was a fucking mistake!”

“It surely was, wasn’t it, officer?” He heard voices behind him and felt all the color on his face drain away. He was fucked. He turned around only to be met with a huge group of inmates. They were almost like predators, and in this case he was the prey.

“What are you dirtbags looking at?!” He yelled, trying to keep his threatening posture. Failing miserably.

“Ohoh, a punching bag I’m looking at.” One of them said, mimicking the ex officer’s ex attitude. The others took this as a starting point and threw him to the ground.

Lucifer watched the prisoners beating the shit out of former officer. His cries and pleas were harmonic. It’d be easy to let the prisoners end him to be honest, but he knew a better way to humiliate him. Physical beating was something, but psychological beating… Its harm could never be measured. He decided what to do and jumped up his seat.

“ENOUGH!” He shouted to his fellow inmates. Everyone backed away with disgusted looks on their faces, still not wanting to let go of that fucker.

Adam heard calm steps coming near him and holding his chin. He muttered something and looked up to the other man.

Morningstar. It was fucking over.

Lucifer eyed the pathetic guy. He was either gonna pass out or puke. His face was ruined. Aren’t mister handsome anymore, he thought, he still remembered how arrogant this prick was before. He chuckled, karma had a cruel but pretty good sense of humor.

“Do you hear me?” He asked.

“Y-yes.”

“Then listen carefully.” He whispered sharply. “Because I will only speak once.” He grinned to the scared man.

“I am offering you a deal. You will be protected from physical harm, no one here dares to cross me. In return you’d give me your full obedience. You’ll be mine. You will always do what I say. Deal?”

“I-“

“Okay, then I’m leaving y-“

“Deal.” He quickly said, hating the sound leaving his lips. He didn’t wanna do this, all of his cells hated this. But this was his only chance. He could still hear the wolves. Cops weren’t welcome inside bars.

“Excellent.” He cupped his cheek.“Now get up. You need treatment. Rosie will do.” He held his hand out. Adam barely stood up but that was it. He passed out to Lucifer’s arms. He groaned, this guy was fucking heavy. He just let him slip and left him on the floor. He could call the nurse later.

“This mean we could end him now?” One of the prisoners asked with hope.

“No. Everyone, listen!” He called out to the crowd at the last part. “You will not be hurting him from that moment. I agree,” He raised his hands as he heard objections. “He deserves it. But I am just saying you can’t physically hurt him.”

“And why would we feel the need to not do that?” One particular inmate spoke. One inmate with a personal hatred against the former guard.

“Think about it, Alastor.” He came closer to the smiling, taller man, still keeping an eye out for his newest toy. “Humiliating him like he did to most of us is much better than simply ending that bitch, right? You must know the damage the words can do much better than everyone.” He looked up.

“You might be right. But it is no guarantee that he won’t try to hurt us.”

“Oh if he does, you are more than free to fuck him up right there. But until that happens, nobody will lay a finger on him. Understood?”

The crowd muttered yeses and okays, although not all of them looked convinced. Alastor just walked away simply. Whatever, he made the announcement after all.

“Hunter, can you help me with getting the big baby to the nurse?”

End of the first chapter! This took a lot more time than I guessed, but it was worth it!

Have a good day/night!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin adam #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel alastor #Prison au #hazbin hotel au #adamsapple

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heartbreakgrill · 7 months

Text

stiles stilinski: breakable heaven; pt 10, "i scream, for whatever it's worth, 'i love you.' ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?"

a/n: pls ignore the fact that i’ve been writing miss morel instead of miss blake 😭 also enjoy my sappy writing. thank you all for every ounce of love and support on this series. i’ve had so much fun writing for you and interacting with everyone. i may have smth else in the works, but no promises. for now, enjoy x

tagging: @scarletrosesposts

stiles reluctantly shifted y/n's body into isaac's arms, took the opportunity to swipe the tears out from beneath his eyes. then, he focused back to y/n. he took the sleeve of his sweatshirt, cleaned the blood off of her face, as he came up with a plan, "okay. i-i can get past the cops. i'll distract them down front, while you guys slip out the back. my jeep is parked in the emergency lot. but, i don't know how you'll cross the entire parking lot with them all out there."

danny watched stiles’ gentle hands. he was terrified, but he tried not to show it. he spoke, strong and clear, "i can go out first, bring it around to the ambulance bay. isaac and allison can wait there.”

the aforementioned hunter before adding on her own idea, "that's good. then we can swing around and grab you, stiles."

"okay, okay," stiles ran his hands through his hair, anxiously. a million thoughts raced through his mind, "and what do we do if-if the alpha pack comes for us? they still think we're protecting jennifer. and we-we're useless again-"

"stiles," allison touched his wrist, gently, drawing his eyes back to her own. she’d never admit it, but she was worried, too. without scott, they were not only outnumbered, but weak. like danny, she put forth a strong front, "she's gonna be okay. we're gonna be okay. i doubt they stuck around here, considering the police. i think we’ll make it through.”

"okay," stiles breathed out, "let's go." his arms dropped to his sides. he watched y/n’s head wobble as isaac turned away.

he, allison, and danny were going to take the stairs, stiles the elevator. so, this is where they would split up. though, before isaac could turn all the way, to follow allison and danny towards the doorway, stiles called out, “wait, isaac-!”

he looked back towards stiles, brows raised, "yeah?" he held y/n so carefully, like she was a pillow. stiles felt useless, again. useless because he wasn’t that strong. useless because, without scott, like miss blake had said- he had nothing.

stiles pushed down the feeling and stepped forward, "i just want to say goodbye. to her. i know she can’t hear me, but-“

“it’s okay,” isaac nodded once, reassuring the boy.

stiles slowly drug his eyes down to y/n's sunken face. she was beginning to look more and more sick, more corpse-like, as every moment passed. every so often, since isaac took her from stiles’ arm, y/n’s entire body would wrack from the chills that were causing sweat to sit on her brow. then, she'd cough violently, chest constricting with the effort, and blood would gush out of her lips. each time, isaac would spindle the pain out of her legs, around her back, his own face grimacing in response. he didn’t even hesitate to help her. stiles was grateful for this.

when he drew her pain out from her blood, isaac could feel the life slowly dissipating from her body. he had told stiles, just before he came up with the plan, that she, in fact, dying. but, she had a while to go. it was happening, slowly but surely. inching through her body at a snail’s pace. cruelly.

none of that information reassured stiles. it only made it worse, knowing that she was in so much, drug-out pain.

he lay a shaking hand to her cheek, thumb brushing across her skin. it was moist with that feverish-sweat. her lips were pale white, the color only dulled more by the black line circling the center of them. finally, a redness was visible beneath her eyelids, in her veins. she really was dying. she looked it.

stiles dragged his lips between his teeth, stilling them because they were wobbling. then, his eyes fluttered shut as he leaned forth, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “i love you…”

–

“i love you, y/n…”

y/n woke with a jolting start, heart beat thumping in her neck like a choking reminder. her breath came out, raggedly. she managed to grab the fading words that echoed in her ears, whispered down her spine, like someone had just prickled their lips to her lobe, before they could leave her. y/n quickly looked to her left, then the right, before shifting onto her knees to examine the space behind her back.

there was nobody there.

in fact, there was nothing there.

the room- if you could call it a room- was bright white, lit by loud bulbs y/n could not find. the space stretched out before her, never-ending, miles and miles wide and long. she squinted her eyes, searching for its end. she expected the horizon to curve, eventually, for her view to diminish because of the curvature of the earth.

but it didn’t.

no, the room just kept on unfolding. the nothingness expanded.

there was a low buzzing sound, like flies, or florescent lighting, but the source of it was nowhere to be seen. she figured it must be from the bulbs, but the more she looked above her to try to find them, the more her head hurt. it was a blinding view.

she took a shuddering breath, head lolling forward. she was terrified of this subliminal space. terrified of what could be waiting on either end, what would find her. what she would find.

terrified of the fact that, as far as she knew, right now, she was utterly alone.

y/n went to stand, carefully bracing her shaking palms onto the matte white floor. she expected to groan in pain as she stood, but her legs lifted with ease. y/n ran her eyes over her body as she was shocked by the strengthened version of herself that she had recovered to. it was almost like she wasn’t really herself- like she was a dream-like avatar of her real self. maybe she’d blacked out so hard that, now, she was dreaming.

though, it did not feel like a dream.

she was in the same clothing as her real self- hospital gown, jeans, grippy socks, and stiles’ hoodie. though, her clothes were soaking wet, like she had dipped in the pool, again. there was no water on the floor, nor any source of it as far as she could see. then, y/n’s eyes reached her hands, and she noticed the black liquid coating her skin. it looked like she had been coughing into her hand. she gasped at the sight.

y/n brought a wobbling hand to her lips, feeling fresh blood evident in her mouth. she began coughing, erratically. she crouched over, hand braced on her knees, as the coughs wracked her chest. her hands became wet with the black blood, and some of it splattered across the white floor.

“wha-“ her coughing ceased, and a shocked look dilated y/n’s pupils. “what’s happening? what-“

she turned every which way, searching for an exit sign, searching for a doorway, a window, another person. she was becoming panicked. the pain was starting to soak back into her body.

“hello?” she called out, voice echoing off of walls that didn’t even exist. she spun in circles, calling out to the void, “hello? is anybody there? please-“ she coughed up more blood, “i need help! help me, please!”

she shuddered as a wind flew past her body. “hello?! please, help me! stiles! stiles?! please!”

just then, as she spoke his name, that voice came again, whipping as the wind carried it down her spine. “i love you, baby. i’ll see you soon, okay? i love you.”

y/n continued spinning in circles as she tried to find that voice. it went away, again, and the low buzzing of the back room was all she had left. it was worse, the loneliness, because she was able to recognize that voice now- it was him. she was sure of it. y/n cried out, “stiles!”

he was gone. there, at her fingertips, at the precipice of her consciousness, but gone, again. taken. swept away with the ever-fading wind.

“stiles, where are you?” she sobbed, “please!”

the energy was sinking from her body, and she struggled to keep herself on her feet. y/n slowly crumpled to her knees, more blood continuing to spew from her lips, and tears spilling from her eyes.

everything was fading.

“please, stiles!”

–

“what’s wrong with her?” stiles demanded, cracking his knuckles against either palm as he paced the floor of the animal clinic.

his eyes shot back and forth from y/n to deaton. his chest felt so tight, and he thought, at any moment, he might start having a panic attack. things were seemingly becoming worse, by the minute. deaton had been examining the girl for nearly half an hour. he kept pulling herbs out of cabinets, shutting them away, listening to her heartbeat.

like he was now- deaton pulled his stethoscope from his ears and hung it around his neck. he glanced to isaac, allison, danny, warily, before looking to stiles. he let out a hopeless, so stiles snapped his head in deaton’s direction.

“what? what’s wrong wi-with her? is- is she gonna be okay?” stiles voice cracked. deaton’s frown seemed to deepen. stiles shook his head, quickly, “no, cmon- no. please- wha…please tell me what’s wrong with her. please tell me you can fix it. please.”

stiles was barely able to speak through that pleading word, his chin falling to his chest as a sob wracked his body. allison clenched her jaw and had to look away. she took a shuddering breath, pressed a hand to her cheek. it was so hard to watch.

deaton braced his palms on the steel table, hands on either side of y/n’s head as he looked down at her. “she’s…jennifer placed some sort of poisonous spell on her. that’s the best way i can understand it. it’s like her body is rejecting itself. and, so, she’s…she’s dying, stiles-“

“i know that!” stiles yelled, “we all fucking know that! so, just do something to save her!”

he swept a hand across the counter adjacent to his left hip, knocking all of the tools to the ground. a yell, deep and vicious, erupted from stiles’ throat, as the supplies clattered to the floor. the scream resounded throughout the room. allison and danny flinched. she kept her gaze pointed from the boy, too pained to look his way. danny shut his eyes, pressed his lips together. he was still trying to be strong, though hearing this news was starting to affect his demeanor. he wanted to scream, just like stiles. but, he held it all in.

meanwhile, isaac was watching stiles carefully in case he needed to step in. he crossed his arms over his chest. he, too, felt terrible for the boy, but he wore his heart in his ribcage, tucked away, private.

stiles put his back to them, head in his hands, shoulders heaving up and down while he sobbed. allison wanted to step forward, to comfort the boy. but, then, deaton was speaking again.

deaton, also a stoic mourner, cleared his throat, then said, “stiles.”

“what?” he whispered, tone laced with venom. he slowly turned around to face the vet. his eyes were now rimmed with a red, bloodshot look. stiles no longer tried to hide the tears racing down his face. it only made danny feel worse.

deaton spoke slowly, gently, a hand set out towards stiles as a treaty-like offer, “i-i don’t want to give you any false hope. but, i think there may be something we can try to do.”

“what is it?” stiles stepped forward, hands falling onto the table. he kept in mind deaton’s words and tried not to let the faith bubble in his chest. but he couldn’t really control his emotions right now. he was all over the place. one of his fists lifted, moving through the air as if he were rushing deaton’s idea. “what is it? what can we do?”

deaton tilted his head in slight disappointment because he knew stiles was clinging onto an idea that could end in flames, “you must understand, stiles…i don’t have the anecdote for this poison. everything i have will only hasten her death, which is why jennifer did this. she knew we wouldn’t be able to stop it. she knew y/n’s state would only slow us down, weaken our numbers.”

“i know,” stiles’ shoulders barely lifted in acknowledgement. this is exactly what he wanted to avoid, exactly why he had never told her about all of this. “i…figured. y/n was clear bait. an easy target. it’s- what can we do?”

“scott can give her the bite,” deaton hurried the words out within a breath. he was scared of their impact. “i’m not sure if she’s strong enough to turn, but…but it might just counteract her death. the bite and the poison could cancel each other out. but…there are chances it won’t work, stiles. if i’m wrong, she may still die. or…she may actually turn.”

“or she could turn into something worse,” allison whispered. stiles found her eyes, much to allison’s dismay, and she nearly shuddered from the look in his. his pupils were dark, threatening. allison looked away quickly.

danny had been caught up on everything by allison and isaac on their way down to the ambulance bay. he was able to finish a lot of their sentences because he had been suspecting something like what they were telling him. after all, jackson was his best friend. he knew something was off. and he’d done his own research.

the validation that he had been right about monsters hiding in the dark didn’t feel good, though.

danny wondered what she could turn in to. contrary to jackson, she was a good person. were there any monsters that were good in their disposition? any without claws and fangs and a deadly bite? he didn’t really want to find out.

stiles punched the table, ever so lightly, drawing danny from his own thoughts. “i want it done,” stiles demanded.

deaton braced a hand between them again, “stiles-“

“why is this even a question? i mean- we always go out of our way to save people we don’t even know!” he shouted as he took a step towards deaton. “and, now, suddenly it’s an issue. please, just…we have to save her!” his voice cracked again.

the doctor, though threatened by stiles angry demeanor, still didn’t falter. he simply lifted his chin in response, “okay. then, it’s really just up to scott, now. if he is willing to do it, then it can be done. i must ask, though, would she be okay with this?” he gestured to y/n.

danny took the moment to interject, for the first time in a long time, “sorry to interrupt, but, i-uh, she’d probably say yes. if the chances are she could die either way, she’d want us to at least try.”

stiles nodded to danny, gratefully. the latter boy pushed himself back into the wall, sinking into himself.

“okay. then, we must wait for scott.”

everyone tucked in, preparing to wait as deaton said. isaac slid up onto the counter, legs dangling over the side. allison sat criss-cross on the floor as she worked on ensuring her bow was in one piece. stiles was stoic at y/n’s side, head tilted down to gaze at her. danny watched him for a moment, watched how he entwined his fingers with hers, pushed the hair back from her forehead, and cleaned some of the blood off of her chin.

danny pushed off of the wall and came to stand across from stiles. he followed the boy’s eyes down at y/n, a deep frown creasing his cheeks. he set a hand on her wrist and put the other against her palm. danny took a shuddering breath, pushing aside the anxiety and mourning crawling up his chest. he wanted to comfort stiles. so he tried to.

“i don’t know how she manages to look so pretty, even when dying,” danny shortly chuckled, hoping the joke wouldn’t be too harsh for stiles.

stiles jumped, just slightly, at the sound of danny’s voice. it took a second, but the joke finally clicked in his head. stiles appreciated the humor. “hm? oh, yeah…i- she’s so fucking beautiful. i don’t get it. and then she’ll say that she’s not, and i’m just, like…i wanna hit her, ya know?”

stiles looked up to danny. the older boy searched stiles’ eyes for a moment, and he didn’t have to force the smile that came onto his face.

“you love her so much,” danny simply said, a breathy laugh shortly off his tongue.

stiles didn’t know what to say. his head nodded in a hesitated manner, and he peeled his eyes off of danny.

y/n let out a heavy breath, her chest deflating from the effort. stiles brushed more hair behind her ear.

“i do…i…” his tongue darted out as he licked his lips, “i love her.”

danny reached out and wrapped a hand around stiles’ shoulder. he squeezed. stiles shot him a half-hearted smile.

they didn’t need to say anything else. after all, that was everything.

twenty more minutes passed. stiles tried not to stare at the clock, but he found his eyes flirting towards the teasing hands, moving ever so slowly.

isaac talked quietly to allison, who cleaned her bow about three times. her hands were shaking. danny stepped out, at one point, to call y/n’s parents, who were still struggling to find a flight home to see her.

he lied and told them she would be just fine.

finally, scott arrived, relieving some of the tension in the room. he came rushing in, breathless, rambling on about what he had learned. there was drying blood on his hands, on his shirt, but no one even questioned it. at this point, it was normal.

everyone listened intently,silently hoping that whatever information he had received would help them save y/n.

but, instead, it was about the other issue stiles was trying not to remember, “we have to find the nemeton! if we find that, we’ll find out parents! she has them trapped in the cellar beneath it. here-“

scott didn’t notice y/n, still sprawled out, lifeless, on the table in the center of the room. he smelled something weird, but his mind was racing with the excitement that they’d be able to save their guardians.

stiles glanced back down at y/n, hoping scott would cut himself off. he couldn’t find the strength to do so. allison and isaac even exchanged a wary glance as scott produced a map out of his jacket pocket. from what everyone else could see, it pictured highlighted telluric currents. as it flattened between his hands, scott stepped forward in orderto set it on the table. that’s when he noticed y/n.

scott slowly lowered the map and flicked his eyes to stiles. “wha- what’s happening?” scott asked. he glanced around to everyone else, “what’s wrong with her?”

“she’s dying,” stiles murmured.

“i know, but, i thou-“ scott hurriedly shifted his words to deaton, who shook his head, sadly. “i thought you’d bring her here, and she’d be okay. deaton- i thought you would be able to save her.”

“scott,” deaton gently interrupted, “there’s nothing i can do. whatever jennifer did to her, it’s unbreakable. none of my herbs would work. they’d just- speed it up. the only thing we can try is-“

“i’ll give her the bite,” scott glanced between stiles and deaton, a determined look in his eye.

stiles blinked rapidly as relief flooded him, “scott, you don’t have to do-“

“i have to,” scott raised a hand, “i want to. besides, this isn’t about me. it’s never been about me. it’s always been about protecting and saving innocent people, like y/n. if the bite would save her, then i have to do it. i can’t let her die.”

deaton leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms. he was proud of scott for adopting such a morally right approach to the thing that could have changed him for the worse. but, deaton still had worries, concerns, “you know what this will entail, don’t you? you know the consequences of giving the bite?”

scott didn’t hesitate to nod, “i’ll do it.”

stiles’ spine straightened with an eager energy that pulsed through his blood. he nervously watched as scott turned his gaze down to y/n. scott’s brows furrowed slightly as he took in her deadly appearance. he set his hands, gently, on her arm. immediately, her pain shot up and through his veins. scott winced, and flinched his hands away. stiles squeezed her hand in response. that was never a good sign.

“she’s in a lot of pain,” scott breathed out.

stiles really wanted to say something rude, something sarcastic, something to press scott to go a little faster. but, he bit his tongue. it wasn’t the time, even if the humor would lighten his anxiety.

but, scott’s movements were painstakingly slow. he set his hands back on her wrist, paused as he took some more of her pain. it didn’t seem to want to let up. then, he lifted her arm in the air, inner wrist tilted towards his mouth. scott dipped his head back, a small groan coming from the back of his throat as his fangs protruded from his mouth. his eyes flashed yellow.

just as scott leveled his chin, opened his mouth to sink his fangs into y/n’s arm, lydia burst into the room. she always had impeccable timing with these things. “stop! wait, stop!”

everyone flinched, heads twisting around to look at the girl. she was breathing heavily, hair and dress soaked from the rain. she looked like she had been crying, voice hoarse from a scream that had been out of earshot. she’d had a premonition. lydia walked further into the light, “i know how to get her back.”

–

y/n lay there for what felt like forever. she stared up at the sky, the ceiling, whatever it was. it loomed overtop of her, a menacingly blank space. it seemed brighter up there, like there were lights somewhere above. if there were lights, that meant that had to be some sort of something in there with her. she wanted to get up and start running, try to find that something in this vast, dismal space, but she didn’t have the energy. she was dying- she knew it.

so she just lay there.

she could feel the life being drug out of her as each and every moment passed. yet, the only thing she could think of was him- stiles.

as her mind wandered, bringing comfort through the daydreams that played in her head, she thought about only him. she missed stiles so much. she knew it couldn’t have been that long, but she still missed him. she missed him before all of this- before she knew about the supernatural.

besides, no dying person wanted to go out alone. he was the one she’d pick to be next to as her final breaths were drawn out of her chest.

she wanted to go back to a week ago, in his bed. before she looked at his phone and everything was ruined. she yearned to feel his fingers ghosting her forearm, tracing the veins there like a pattern, slow and loving. the more she thought about his touch, about his chest beneath her cheek, his arms around her shoulders, she almost swore she could feel his calloused palm wrap around her wrist. it tickled, almost.

y/n shot open her eyes, brought her hand to her eyes, but realized there was no one there. she dropped her hand back down to her stomach. she tilted her chin to take a deep breath of his hoodie, which was acting as a makeshift pillow beneath her head. it didn’t help much. her neck ached slightly. but the smell- the smell of his room, his hair, his deodorant. it helped just a bit.

it brought out more vivid memories behind her eyelids. laying in his jeep, her music low on the radio, fog on the windows, rain beating down like a protective coating around the vehicle. just the two of them, always just the two of them, and an undeniable, desirable secret dangling between their chests.

y/n turned onto her side, curled her legs up to her stomach. she wanted to go back to sleep, so that time would maybe pass- if there even was time in this place. she noticed that she hadn’t coughed in a while. but whenever it would happen, the fit was disastrous. the perfectly white floor surrounding her was stained with clumpy, black splatters. her entire neck was coated in the liquid. and the skin of her fingers was unrecognizable. she squeezed her eyes shut in the hopes that she could go to sleep, avoid another coughing fit, dream about him…

dream about his lips pressed against her forehead. she would pretend like it hadn’t happened, again, if that was the cost. she would take that over this- yearning for him quietly, secretly. the feeling that she would die if he never looked at her, the feeling that she would die because she couldn’t have him the way she wanted. she would take unrequited nothingness of the reality of actual death.

y/n felt the tears welling up in her eyes again. she tilted her chin towards her chest, withering in on her curled up self. whatever this place was- the after life, a punishment, limbo- she just wanted it to end already. at this point, if she was dying, then she wanted to just die already!

y/n’s shoulder wracked with another sob. the wind whipped past her curled body, carrying on it a voice. she ignored it, knowing it wasn’t really there.

but, then, it rang out, again, this time, independent of the wind.

and, this time, it wasn’t so distance.

“y/n?!”

she slowly lifted her head, eyes scarcely searching the white space for where the voice might be coming from. then, as it continued yelling for her, she lifted her upper body from the ground, and twisted her spine to look behind her.

yet, there was no one there.

a moment passed and the yelling stopped. because of that seconds pause, y/n went to lay back down.

but, then, she heard her name again. this time, it was just an inch closer. this time, it sounded clearer, like somebody she knew, “y/n, y/n!”

she listened for a moment, and heard footsteps echoing off the ground, padding quickly across the space.

then, two other sets of footsteps, two other voices. calling her name. they weren’t just voices in her head, distant memories in her mind- they were here. in this place. with her. at her fingertips.

y/n stood, carefully, body aching and yelling at her to stay down. gravity pushed against her. but, she got up. she turned in a short circle, searching for those voices.

and, finally, she found them. she found him.

hundreds of feet away from her, seemingly stuck behind some invisible wall separating the space, they stood, calling out her name. he pounded a fist against the invisible barrier, veins in his neck protruding as he screamed her name again. scott and allison were at his shoulders, her name falling from their lips, too.

“stiles?” y/n cried out, voice cracking, weak, quiet. she took a deep breath, willed herself not to cough, “stiles!”

he finally could tell that she had seen them, and he started yelling louder. somehow, someway, he took a step forward, the wall no longer there. stiles seemed to lose his footing as it glitched in and out of existence, and he looked to his feet in confusion. then, when he realized she was just an inch closer, he took another step, then another, and, then, he was running.

y/n realized that she had to run, too. because, even though he was running as fast as possible, he still seemed worlds away. she had to get to them. she had to close the distance. she had to go. she grabbed stiles’ hoodie, braced her lungs with a deep breath, and took off. he was moving closer, inch by painful inch, until-

y/n ran into his chest, ricocheting off and nearly falling back onto her ass. stiles quickly reacted and grabbed his shoulders, steadying her. he crouched to meet her eye, searching her face as if he couldn’t believe it really was her.

as their eyes met, the world shifted, just one last time, finally clicking back onto it’s axis.

y/n’s shaking hands came slowly up to his cheeks as a sob escaped her. “stiles?” she whispered.

he nodded, just once, before squeezing her into his chest. “it’s me- i’m here. i’m here, baby.”

she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding tightly, so he could never leave her again.

he would never leave her again.

–

like a line of dominos, everything began falling into place, quickly, righteously.

y/n clung to stiles’ side as they found the nemeton, tucked away in some corner of the woods, which appeared out of nowhere. it took them through his memory, but part of her own recollections, too. some distant evocation of a day spent with danny, practicing his time for cross country. she could hear his voice, but she couldn’t see him. eventually, she and stiles stumbled onto the large tree root, evident as the fall air whipping past them.

everything felt distant, still, unreal. though she could feel stiles there, beside her, she knew that this wasn’t reality. she couldn’t wait until this was all over, when they’d wake up in the animal clinic. when she could really touch him, his actual skin, there, right there for her to take and never let go.

after they found the nemeton, everything surrounding them glitched out to a pitch black dream. they fell into something similar to sleeping. y/n heard her name, whispered through the dark, like a question. she slowly came to, fingers twitching upon her stomach, eyelids fluttering open. the bright lights of the animal clinic shone down on her, and it took more than a moment for her eyes to adjust.

when they did, she saw dr. deaton, standing over her, holding a gentle hand to her cheek. he helped her sit up, slowly but surely, with his touch on her upper back. she swung her legs over the side of the table, groaning at the residing pain still lingering. it was fading, fast, but it still clung to her. as the feeling was coming back into her body, so was her memory, her awareness. she darted her eyes around the animal clinic, searching for stiles, when deaton said:

“here,” the vet held out a purple-ish liquid, contained in a shot glass. “drink this.”

y/n took it, hesitantly, from him, and drank it in small, awful sips. “what was that?” she made a crude face at the foul taste.

“herbs. to help you regain your remaining strength back,” he encouraged the idea with a small nod.

y/n thanked him, before accepting another glass. this time, luckily, it was just water. she glanced around the empty room, again, “where is everyone? where- where’s stiles?” she yearned for him.

“stopping jennifer. stiles and lydia went out to find the nemeton. to find his dad. everything will be over shortly,” deaton patted her shoulder.

“what am i supposed to do, in the meantime? i mean…i don’t know where i fit?” she was new to this dynamic. she felt she should be out there helping. she was, after all, considered a part of the pack now. didn’t that come with responsibilities? though, she had just almost died. surely there was time allocated to humans for rest and relaxation in this type of world?

“well,” deaton he crossed his arms over his chest, “what do you want to do?”

“go home,” y/n admitted with a short laugh.

“i’ll drive you.”

y/n twisted around at the sound of that familiar voice. danny stepped out of the shadowed corner of the room. he had been giving her and deaton space as she was brought back to life. but, he couldn’t wait any longer. his best friend almost died. and now, he could finally take her home, to safety, to quiet, to peace.

deaton nodded, once, before stepping out of the room. his role in this chapter was completed.

meanwhile, y/n jumped off of the table, hurriedly tossing her arms around danny. he squeezed her in the tightest hug they had ever exchanged. their reunion was sweet, sentimental, full of tears from either friend.

and, then, danny drove her home, as promised.

he helped her out of her blood-stained clothing, and into the hot shower. he waited, less than patiently, on her bed while she washed away all of the black staining her skin. when she was finally changed into pajamas, tucked up underneath her bed covers, her eyes were heavy again.

she was exhausted.

danny was going to stay the night, until her parents got home, the next day. so, he hugged her one last, lingering time before retreating to the guest room, hesitantly.

y/n wanted to fall asleep, and wake up in tomorrow, when, hopefully, things will have washed away, sorted themselves out. but, she also knew that, eventually, this would happen again. based on the stories she’d heard, they always did. so, as her mind raced with the worries of that version of tomorrow, she felt her body wake up a bit more.

she just wanted stiles.

this day could not end any better than if stiles would just come back to her.

she climbed out of bed, paced down to the kitchen, and nursed a glass of water as her phone rang. y/n waited, impatiently, as the line beeped.

“hey,” stiles’ voice finally shone through.

y/n wanted to scream with joy, but she simply said, “hi.”

stiles breathed out a heavy sigh, “are you okay?”

“in one piece, somehow,” she managed a small chuckle. “what about you? is your dad alright?”

“he’s sleeping now.”

she was grateful to hear that. “and you, stiles?” he had just been through the hardest few days of his life.

stiles, elbow against the windowsill of his jeep, hand lazily rested on the steering wheel, blinked away exhausted tears. “fine…i guess. as fine as i can be.”

“stiles,” y/n nearly interrupted with a grin on her lips, “please, come over.”

he peered out his window, where her house sat, peacefully, on it’s precipice. the moon hung low behind it, enticing him to step inside. but, after all this, he knew what he must do. for her, her safety, her livelihood.

“i can’t,” his voice almost cracked.

y/n’s face fell, heart sinking into her stomach, “what? why? why not? is there- i thought everything was worked out. i thought that you guys solved everything?”

“we did,” he tapped his fingers against the wheel anxiously, “we did…this time. but- there’ll be other problems. there’ll be other druids trying to take your head off and alpha packs trying to kill all of us. it’ll never stop, y/n. i can’t, with sound mind and heart, drag you into this, knowing what i know. seeing what i’ve seen. i can’t- i have to just…end this.”

in the silence that followed stiles’ confession, y/n picked at the kitchen countertop. she didn’t cry- she didn’t even feel the need to. because she knew this wasn’t the end. she knew it would never end. it was- whatever they had- unbreakable. it was heaven. it was everything.

and she loved him. she’d never stop loving him.

“are you here?” she finally spoke.

the painful silence had only spurred more tears on stiles’. he pressed a hand to his lips, as if rubbing them would force the cries away. but, when she asked him that, his body took a pause. “wh-what?”

“you’re outside, aren’t you?” y/n pushed up off of her seat. she began marching to the front door, stopping only to put on shoes, unwilling to hear his answer. she knew he was.

sure enough, his jeep sat on her road, idling. she shook her head, that grin still sat upon her face. as she began the long walk down her driveway, she spoke, “i realize now how often you’d sit out here, watching my house, making sure i was safe. my brain always said it wasn’t you, but that freshman down the street, who drives that black jeep. it’s too dark out to see that robin egg blue on roscoe. but, no, it’s been you along. you’ve always been here, protecting me.”

“y/n, please, i-“

she hung on him. she was at the jeep door, now. stiles met her eyes, glanced away as he tried to stay strong. he was ending this. he had to. he didn’t want her pretty eyes and soft face to break him down and give in.

but, she knocked on his window.

stiles huffed, turning off the jeep, and stepping out. “y/n, please, you need to-“

“i have spent the last three months pushing you away. i have spent three months convincing myself that you weren’t everything to me. convincing myself that we were only friends, that even though you make me laugh like nobody has ever made me laugh, you didn’t mean the world to me. i have spent so, so long ignoring all the signs, ignoring all of these feelings that i have for you- and yesterday? i almost died. i realized just how precious what we have is. and, if there’s going to be other alpha packs, other crazy english teachers with some weird grudge against all my creative writing assignments, then i’m not going to waste the time that we have letting you go, again. not again, stiles. i have you- i’ve had you, i’ve had you right between my fingers this entire time. and i’ve just been letting you run like water. but, i’m not doing that again. i’m not letting that happen.”

stiles shook his head, removed her gaze from his. he couldn’t bear it. he couldn’t bear this. he just wanted to kiss her, but he couldn’t. get back in your jeep and drive away, stiles.

“okay- i just-you know that being with me means having a target on your back. and, you may be okay with that, but i am not. y/n, we can move on from this, okay? i can- i can let you go if it means you will be safe. and you’ll easily get over me. i know you think- i know you have these feelings, but, i also know you never wanted to get attached in the first place. i know you probably really even aren’t. i promise-“ he bullshitted himself.

“i love you, stiles. and i know that’s the worst thing you wanted to hear right now because it changes everything,” she stepped closer, demanding his eye contact. stiles pressed his back into the jeep, trying to shrink away. “and, i know that you love me. you didn’t have to tell me. i’ve felt it- i’ve felt it from you on more than one occasion. and it’s, it’s not the kind of love that you just let go, or get over. it’s- yeah, it’s dangerous and it’s terrifying to hear and it has the worst timing and it changes everything in the world. but, i love you, stiles.”

he lifted his chin, slammed his fist into his palm, weighing over everything in his mind. he didn’t need to- he knew what he felt, but then he knew what was right. and, not even deep down, he knew what to do. what he wanted to do. but, it was the choosing to do so that terrified him. that made him anxious, that made him feel like that pathetic, weak human everyone thought he was. he wouldn’t be able to protect her like he wanted. he wouldn’t be able to stop an attack on her, like yesterday had proven. he wouldn’t be able to ensure she’d get to go to college, that she’d even make it to graduation. if they did this, if he let her do this with him, she’d be in immense danger every second of the day.

but, he knew if he didn’t do this- he wouldn’t be able to breathe. he’d suffocate without her. she made him feel stronger, she made him feel better. she made him feel human in the best way, in the way that was never weak, nor pathetic- in the way that only humans can feel and love.

so, he made that hard choice, and he chose that hard thing.

and he kissed her.

#derek x stiles #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski #stiles x lydia #stiles x reader #teen wolf #teen wolf stiles #teen wolf x reader

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bookshelf-dust · 1 year

Text

really know him

part i part ii part iii part iv

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 3,190

warnings: swearing, smoking, mentions of eddie's childhood/parents, cops, feelings and fluff

a/n: okay, hi. look who remembered how to write for eddie!! i know, right? it's totally wild. so this is gonna be another multi-part series. i think this first one is pretty sweet. it's been nice to write some eddie for a while. i hope you guys enjoy this!! the title is a play on something dustin says to wayne in season four. also tagging @rogueharrington and @zaypay because the former is a little goon and way too good to me and the latter i know wanted some eddie and is also much to sweet to me. happy reading!! <3333

————

The screen door slams so hard that the frame rattles and the metal screeches, and you’re not even sure it shut properly. But you don’t really care.

You don’t care at all.

You practically run to the picnic table closest to your trailer, stepping onto the bench to raise yourself up and sit on the tabletop.

It rained today. It’s ended just recently enough that the trees are still dripping with it, the leaves shaking water off with each breeze that comes by, the wood table damp under where you sit.

You’re sure it’s wetting the denim of your jeans, turning the light wash of them a darker shade. But you don’t care. You don’t care about any of this. It feels so minor when you ache like this.

The feeling stretches and splays throughout your chest, crawling up your throat and producing a sob that you release into the night air.

You lean your head back and let the tears come. They spill into your hair, across the tops of your ears; they trickle down the side of your neck. They don’t seem to want to stop. They’re the kind of tears that just keep going and going. You just have to let it out. You can’t possibly hold them in because they won’t allow it.

You feel your eyes get puffy, feel your lashes sticking to your skin. You feel like a wreck.

It’s then that he sees you.

Eddie lights a cigarette, pulling his wrist the rest of the way through the jacket he’d grabbed on the way out. It’s the time of day where he walks around outside the trailer, smoking, breathing, looking for bugs or half listening to whatever show neighbors are watching with the volume loud enough that the whole trailer park can hear it.

He sees your silhouette across the sandy road, your figure cast in the orange light from the old street lamp that’s just come on, the shady area tricking it into thinking it’s fully night already.

Eddie sits down on the couch. He can’t help but look you over. No one else is usually out around now, except for that couple that sits on the old playground. They’ve lived here longer than Eddie has been alive, Wayne once told him. Everyone else is too busy having dinner or vacuuming or doing whatever the fuck it is that people do.

You drop your face into your hands, fingers becoming wet with tears.

Eddie catches the motion, the tremble in your shoulders and the way you’re folding in on yourself. It’s like you’re trying to make yourself as small as possible. Like maybe you’re trying to disappear.

Eddie thinks you obviously want to be alone. It’s probably why you’re out here in the first place. He knows that when he’s upset and he wanders off somewhere that that’s what he wants too.

But he also knows how much he’s wished to be seen or comforted before. And the idea of leaving you there, shuddering and lost, is killing him.

So he stands.

The combination of dirt and gravel crunches under Eddie’s boots, making his approach a lot less quiet than he’d originally been shooting for. But it's not like subtlety has ever been his strong suit anyways.

You hear it, the sound. You try and wipe your face dry, though it’s to no avail. It’s as if a buildup of every suppressed emotion is releasing itself all at once, and there’s nothing you can do about it until it’s over. Until you allow yourself to let it go.

Still, you try and fix yourself because you can see someone walking up out of the corner of your eye. No one ever sees you cry. There’s no reason for them to.

Eddie steps up onto the bench just as you had, settling close enough to you on the tabletop that the chain on his jeans touches your thigh. It’s cold, especially with the way your jeans are wet now, but his body is warm next to yours. There’s a part of you that wants to lean into that warmth, to lean into him.

Eddie takes the cigarette from his mouth and holds it out to you. When you turn to face him he raises his eyebrows, a sweet look on his face. Want a hit? He’s asking.

You shake your head. No thank you.

Eddie takes one more long drag and then he’s snuffing the cigarette out. If you don’t want any, he doesn’t want to bother you with it either.

“You okay?” he asks you.

You shrug.

Eddie looks at you, curls slipping from over his shoulder to dangle on one side of his face, a stark difference in color between that of his hair and cheek. At first you don’t look back, but then you do. You have to, knowing he’s got his eyes on you. You turn your head, your bottom lip caught between your teeth, eyes swollen and tears shiny against your cheeks and down your neck, making your skin look tacky. You’re fussing with the edge of your sleeve.

Eddie thinks you look young.

“How come you came over here?” you ask, looking at his boots, which remain unlaced, like he hadn’t even thought to tie them at all. “It’s not like we’re friends or something.”

The boy snorts. “We worked together on that one project in Ms. O’Donnell’s,” he points out. “Before you up and left.”

That gets the grin out of you he was hoping it would. “You mean when I graduated?”

“Yeah.” He knocks his knee against yours, fiddling with the chain clasped around his wrist. “And,” Eddie continues, “we live across from each other.” He gestures to either of your trailers and you follow the movement of his finger. The nail is painted black, though thoroughly chipped. The kind of chipping you get when it’s been so long since you’ve done your nails that you can’t even remember painting them at all. “Doesn’t that make us like, at least, acquaintances?”

You bring your hands up to your face, wiping at the tears there before getting at the ones spread throughout your hairline. “I suppose so,” you say.

You wipe your hands across the denim covering your legs and then shake them out. You look up. Eddie notices you doing this and looks up with you.

The moon is round and bright. “Is it full tonight?” he asks.

“Tomorrow,” you say. Your calendar had told you so, a little circle under the date. “Though you never answered my question.”

Eddie’s head lowers towards yours, and he’s thinking. What question? Oh. That one, yeah.

“You looked upset. I thought maybe it would be nice for you to not be alone.”

You look at him again, and his big brown eyes stare back at you. They’re shiny under the light from the street lamp, his eyelashes unfairly long and kissing at the corners. There are shadows under his eyes, but they only make him look prettier.

You think about the fact that he didn’t have to do that. Come and sit with you. It’s just the fact that he did. That he’s not prying. That he simply did not want you to be alone.

“Thank you, Eddie.”

His face splits into a sweet grin. He raises his hands, gesturing with them in a sweeping motion.

“Anytime,” he says. “I’m right there, you know. If you ever need to yell or something. As long as you’re not too busy with college for an old high school acquaintance.”

You roll your eyes at him but it’s completely void of malice. You glance back up again, and when you do, you gasp a little.

“What?” Eddie’s voice sounds slightly panicked.

You lift your hand, pointing. “Look,” you tell him. “The bats are out.”

Eddie’s shoulders slump in relief that there isn’t something wrong. But you’re right. There are at least three bats circling around the entrance to the trailer park.

One of them squeaks and you do too, though yours is out of excitement rather than whatever the reason is that bats chirp–he doesn’t know. It makes Eddie laugh.

“You like bats?”

"I do," you say, your eyes never leaving the sky. It's been a long time since you saw them, never really being out at the right time. You hope they find something good to eat.

"Me too," Eddie says.

You look away, just for a moment, remembering. "Haven't you got some on your arm?"

The boy laughs, slow and warm. "Yeah, I drew one up for my back, but I haven't saved up enough to get it done yet."

Your eyes light up, a flicker of curiosity, and Eddie thinks his heart skips a beat. "What part of your back?" you ask him.

"Lower," he says, pointing to where the bats are swooping down into the trees. You both watch them together.

"You want a tramp stamp?"

Eddie tosses his head back and cackles. It’s a beautiful, joyous sound. "I suppose I do."

“Nothing wrong with a tramp stamp, Eddie,” you say through a laugh.

He smiles at you then, and it’s boyish. He looks young. Happy. And you can’t believe he’s looking at you that way.

You turn your face back to the sky and close your eyes. Your nose stings and the tears start spilling out again.

Eddie looks at you and realizes you’re crying. He puts his hand on your knee on instinct. “Hey, what’s the matter?”

You shake your head, using one hand to wipe at your face, the other settling atop his hand. His eyes dart briefly to observe your touching hands but his focus is back on you just as quickly.

“It’s nothing,” you say. “Just having a rough night and you’re being really kind to me and I guess I’m just overwhelmed.”

You move your hand, but Eddie grabs hold of it gently.

“Look at me.”

You shake your head again.

“It’s okay. I’m not going to make fun of you,” he says, and you believe him, though really looking at him and his big brown eyes is enough to wash a surge of sadness over you.

Eddie uses his thumb to wipe the fresh tears from under your lashes, grazing the tip of your now stuffy nose with his knuckle. You wrinkle it and he grins.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

“Not really, no.”

Eddie nods. “That’s cool.” He smiles again, and pushes a chunk of hair behind his ear, which only makes you curious about something else.

You sniffle. “Why don’t you have your ears pierced?”

“You’re looking at me and that’s what you’re worried about?”

You rub your nose rather aggressively. “Yeah, actually. It seems very off-brand of you to not have at least one of them pierced. And I know you’re not afraid of needles.”

You don’t have to gesture to his tattoos. And that is true about the needles, but don’t be fooled. Eddie does not like getting shots. He loathes it, matter of fact.

“Nope. Definitely not. I guess I just never got around to it. But it’s not like I have something against piercings.”

You rub your denim clad knees. “I’m glad to hear it.”

The both of you are quiet for a little while. It’s a comfortable silence, one that you feel safe in with him there. Because of him. You let your eyes wander around the trailer park as if you’ve never been here before. As if you hadn’t skinned your palms and banged up your knees or gotten a sunburn here as a child. As if you hadn’t grown and watched the trailers deteriorate as time went on.

You look across the street at Eddie’s trailer, and suddenly you remember.

You must’ve been, what, twelve? When the cops showed up, escorting a little boy the same age as you, informing a man who never really wanted children that the boy belonged to him now. There were a lot of people there that day. A social worker, maybe? A whole lot of people all trying to figure out what to do with another kid whose parents had bailed.

Eddie’s father was arrested under charges of so many things you weren't really sure what they all were. He’d been running from the law for a very long time. And then one day he wasn’t running anymore.

Eddie’s mother was still there after his dad wasn’t. She tried to raise Eddie, but she couldn’t do it on her own. She’d had him young, and never really gotten the hang of it, even if she tried. How hard she tried though, that can be debated on.

After a while she turned to drugs to cope, and then when the money ran out, when the lights were off and the house cold, she ran off.

Eddie was alone, with nothing but a note and his uncle’s phone number. His mother had told herself that Eddie was a smart boy, that he’d figure it out. She got by on telling herself that her brother would take good care of her son.

And he had. He still does. Wayne was and is a better father than Eddie’s biological dad had ever been. And even if it wasn’t what he’d planned, what he’d wanted, Eddie was Wayne’s boy. He always would be.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Eddie’s voice breaks you out of your stupor.

You shake your head.

“Thank you for sitting out here with me tonight, Eddie.”

He does his best to hide the pout he feels emerging. He doesn’t want you to go back inside, and that’s the sort of sentence that usually precedes a goodbye. He wants to talk to you. He wants to figure out who you are.

“You don’t have to thank me. I’ll sit with you any time you want. And you can always sit with me too, if you feel like it.”

You grin. Eddie thinks it’s so pretty, your smile. Shy, sure, but so, so pretty.

“You’re positive?”

“Absolutely.”

You go to stand, but Eddie beats you to it, his boots hitting the ground with a thud. He offers you his hand. “M’lady.”

His hand is surprisingly warm, and you’re quite sure the callouses you can feel will be imprinted in your brain for the rest of your life.

“Can I walk you home?” Eddie asks.

You laugh, kicking at a particularly large tree root that the rain has exposed, washing away the thin layer of dirt covering it.

“Well I don’t know, Eddie, the twenty feet to my trailer is an awful long trek. Wouldn’t want you to have to go through all of that.”

He shakes his head at you, bangs moving over his eyebrows. “You’re right. Could be dangerous. Which is why I need to go with you to ensure you get inside safely. Maybe you should even hold my hand.”

“Smooth.”

He holds out his hand. “Right?”

You take it, and he squeezes once, hard enough to make you giggle.

Eddie walks you to your trailer, and rests his chin against the worn out porch railing while you walk up the stairs.

“Goodnight, Eddie.”

“Night, M’lady.”

————

It’s been a few days. Everything the rain touched dried out again.

Eddie’s outside. He won’t mind if you go and see him, right?

You can always sit with me too, if you feel like it.

You do feel like it.

Your front steps creak as you bound down them, looking both ways before you cross the road—if it can even be called that—as if the trailer park has ever been traffic heavy. Habit or whatever.

Eddie watches you make your way towards him, tugging on the flannel you’re wearing to try and keep it close to your sides, away from the wind.

“Hey,” Eddie says. He’s got that stupid ass grin on his face.

“Hi.” You stop before even stepping up onto the concrete slab that is his porch. “Thought I’d come and visit you. Hope that’s okay.”

“Told you it was.” He chuckles. It makes your face warm.

Eddie is slumped on the old couch they have set out there. His legs are spread wide, one splayed out and the other pulled closer to the cushion. He reaches his arms up over his head, stretching and yawning. His shirt rides up with the movement, exposing a sliver of the bottom of his stomach, the soft doughy skin there, the trail of dark hair leading both upwards and downwards.

“Wanna come sit?” He asks, lowering his arms. He pretends like he didn’t see you looking at him in that way, even though he most definitely did. If he thinks about it too hard he’ll blush.

Rather than answer, you step up and settle on the other end of the couch, your back to the arm. You pull your legs up and sit with them criss-crossed.

“What are you up to?” you ask.

He snorts. “Procrastinating. I’m supposed to be doing homework. You know, so I can do that graduating thing you did. I also have a campaign to finish, but here we are.”

You grin at him, and he reaches over, thumb tapping your knee before he rests his hand on the couch next to you. “If it helps,” you start, “I also have homework I’m supposed to be doing.”

“We’re so good at this.”

“Aren’t we?”

Eddie is quiet for a minute. He looks around outside, noting that the sun is slipping away. “You come to look for bats again?”

“No. I just wanted to see you. But I’ll gladly look for them.”

“To see me? How kind. You know just how to flatter a man.” He presses a hand to his chest dramatically and you roll your eyes.

The door that they use as their front one opens, and Wayne walks out. He looks over at you both.

“I’m headin’ out, Ed.” He smiles at you. “What’re you both up to? No good from the looks of it.”

“Lookin’ for bats,” Eddie tells him. Wayne gives the boy a knowing look, but he won’t mention it. If something’s going on, Eddie will spill eventually. That’s how it’s always worked. Eddie the motormouth and whatnot.

Wayne turns his face to the sky, hand raising to shield his eyes from that last little chunk of sun still hanging around, even though the moon has already started to climb up. “Watch that back tree line,” he instructs. “It’s where I always seem ‘em.”

“Will do,” you say, grinning.

Wayne opens his car door, throwing himself inside. “Behave!” he calls.

Eddie gives him a two finger salute and watches as his uncle drives off, turning and then Eddie can’t see him anymore.

“Us?” Eddie starts. “Behave? Why on earth would we do a thing like that?”

You toss your head back and laugh. Eddie thinks you look so pretty tonight. The sun is almost gone for the evening, the clouds turning this pretty pink, this deep orange. The clouds are a thick gray.

He wants to scoot closer to you on the couch. Maybe one day soon he will.

————

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